Two for the Price of One

Okay, so I’m thinking I might eventually move back here to this blog, perhaps even sooner rather than later, but for now, I’m having fun blogging at my new location (I’m past the initial pangs of withdrawal and abandonment that I felt when I left here), so I think I might stick it out there, too.

Meanwhile, the coolest thing happened to me this morning, and I couldn’t blog about it on my new blog, and I couldn’t tell anyone because they’d all think I was nuts, so I am going to post it here, since this is where it all began anyway.

Are you ready for it?

I actually saw both of the Priuses today. 

Yes, I know, I have no life.  Tell me something I don’t know.

And I guess I might as well just turn this into my Prius-sighting blog, since that’s all I ever talk about anymore. 

So onto the story.

I had to make a stop on the way to work, so I took a slightly different route.  And when I made a left turn onto the road that was going to take me to my destination, I saw one of the Priuses (the one I don’t normally see, since it was coming from the opposite direction) sitting there at the light as I turned.  I totally stared at the guy, and he saw me, and must have thought I was a complete loon.  I’d made eye-contact with the other, more familiar, Prius driver on Friday when I was on my way home.  I passed him and we both had our windows down and I looked across at him and he looked back at me.  So I like to think that, at some point today, they’ll manage to be having a conversation and the crazy girl driving a blue car who always stares at them whenever she sees them will just magically come up.  And then they’d search the net and find out I’d been blogging about them.  And then they’d call the police to come and arrest me for stalking or something.

A girl can dream, can’t she?  Well, all except that last part.  That would kind of suck.

Anyway, after I made my stop, I continued on my way, and figured I wouldn’t see the other one because I had altered my normal route.  But then I saw him, happening to catch him in an later part of my drive than I normally do (since I was actually on time for work instead of running a little late, like I usually am), and thus the two-for-two company Prius sighting was attained. 

Speaking of Priuses (or is it Prii?), this is kind of an interesting read.

An Update on the Prius

Okay, so I swear I’m not going to update this thing every day, so that it’s like I never left.  Even if I were so inclined, I don’t think I could handle two blogs at the moment…and nothing’s changed on the reasons I don’t want to blog here anymore. 

But still, driving to work today, I saw the Prius, and the side of it is no longer dented and injured.  I wanted to blog about it, but realized that no one on my new blog would know what I was talking about, and I couldn’t well link to this blog because that would defeat the whole purpose, now wouldn’t it.

So, here I am.

I hadn’t seen the Prius in a while.  I was running a little late this morning, and there it was.  I suppose it could have been the other one (that business has two that I’ve seen), but since it was on the same route as usual, and I didn’t see it for a while, I’m guessing it was in the shop and now it is fixed. 

Just thought you’d like to know…

It also struck me as kind of funny.  Over at Charming, but single, she gives all the men she talks about names, usually starting with “the” but sometimes not.  She does it with men; I do it with cars. 

What exactly that says about me, I’m not sure. 

Wait Just a Minute There

So here’s the thing.  I’m starting to feel the pain a little bit.  The pain of abandoning this blog and leaving to start another one.  I know it must sound silly, but this blog has sort of been my home.  And now I’ve had to let it go for strange and stupid reasons of my own.

This is not a post saying that I’m returning.  I’m not.  And maybe I never will.  But I think, eventually, I’d like to, if I can.  So that  is the plan, for now.  To continue to blog in my new location until such time as I feel as if I’m able to return to blogging here.

I only post this here to keep anyone who might still be checking in apprised of the situation.  It may or may not mean anything to you.  That is fine; I do not expect it to matter all that much.  It matters to me, though.  If you wish to continue to follow my neurotic self, then drop me a line and I will be happy to provide you with my new address.  If you wish to continue checking in here to see when I return, then by all means do that as well.  I may even update from time to time.  Or I may return to full time blogging here in a flash, so that I barely even need have announced that I was leaving (except I wanted it to be clear that I made a decision to stop blogging rather than just stopping without any conscious intent to do so, which I’ve done many times before - this is different, and it was important to me to convey it as such). 

I must go now, but I am nearly done with the retrospective reading through old posts.  I need only go through the ones I’ve done since joining WordPress and then my journey will be complete.  Look for the last page to be up in the next couple of days.  And then, silence, until such time as I feel fit to return. 

Until then…

Just Joshin’

Okay, so the title of this post is a lie.  I wasn’t just joshin’ (which always makes me think of when I went to see Tuck Everlasting with my friend and her cousin, and one of the characters says that and my friend’s cousin, who was quite a bit younger than us, thought it was the funniest thing ever and kept quoting it the rest of the night) when I said I wasn’t going to be blogging here anymore.  I really did mean it.  Honest, I did. 

No, this post is merely because I can never just let things lie and let the last word be the actual last word.  Rest assured, I will soon be out of your hair though…unless you wish to follow me to my new domain, in which case drop me a line or a comment or send up smoke signals or whatever. 

I just wanted to alert those of you who care that I am indeed setting up pages that link to some of my favorite posts from the time I blogged as Yankee from Mississippi.  The first of these, my posts from the Blogger years, is already available for your consumption.  I will do another for my Typepad posts, and a third for those since joining WordPress.  I broke them down that way not for any thematic reason, but just because I thought it might be too much for one page.  I may or may not update this particular post with links to those new pages as they are completed, but if I don’t, well, just look at the top where the page links are and you should see it.  I also never finished my 100 Things.  Guess that just makes me an incomplete person. 

I can hardly say “the rest is silence” again (though, I am pretty proud of myself for managing to quote the Doors and the Bard in the same post), so I think I’ll “borrow” from favorite poet, T.S. Eliot (with my sincerest apologies to Tom for the hackery - it’s really a very good poem):

This is the way the blog ends
This is the way the blog ends
This is the way the blog ends
Not with a bang but a wimper.

This Is the End, Beautiful Friend

I don’t quite know how to say what I’m going to say, so I think I’m just going to say it, right here at the outset, and then attempt some sort of explanation.

After today, I will cease blogging here. This will, in all likelihood, be my very last post on this blog.

You should all know that I really love blogging. And I’ve really appreciated those of you who have become daily readers and commenters (as well as those of you who read often and have never revealed yourselves to me). I feel almost as if I know some of you, like you are friends of mine. You have offered words of comfort and encouragement and support for this entire endeavor, and I really appreciate that. Much more than I could ever say.

So it is with a heavy heart that I say goodbye to this blog. Unfortunately, for reasons I’m not going to entirely go into here because they are immensely private and not entirely personal, it has become entirely necessary for me to do so. Know that I would not be doing this unless I were completely convinced of that. Part of the reason I haven’t blogged much since last week is that I’ve been kicking back and forth on this, mulling it in my mind, trying to see if there was another option, something I could do instead that would permit me to remain blogging. It’s had my stomach in knots, and kind of put a damper on my creativity.

In truth, I owe every single person reading this an apology. Lately, this blog has become something it was never intended to be, and it is for this reason that I must stop. I owe one person in particular an apology. If you are reading this, and you think I might be talking about you, then you are probably right. So just know that I am sorry, very truly sorry for absolutely everything.

I am going to resume blogging elsewhere, more anonymously. Maybe it is the wrong thing to do. Maybe it is just me running away from my problems rather than standing and fighting bravely on. You have no way of knowing, because I’m not going to elaborate on my reasons for leaving. Just know that I truly feel I have no other option.

Maybe I am making too big a deal out of it. It’s just a blog, after all. And not a very good one at that.

For reasons which are my own, I am not going to post the location of my new blog here on this site. It would sort of put a damper on the whole anonymity thing, for starters. Some of you have been following my blog here, and anyone who wishes to have the new address need only email me at the address to the left and I will send you the new address. I would ask that you respect my wishes to remain anonymous, and to sever all connection between this blog and the new one. You may link to the new blog, of course, if you have one of your own, but just refrain from making any connection between the new and the old or mentioning me by name if ever referencing the new blog.

Of course, this blog will remain here. I’m proud of some of what I’ve written here, as well as on my first blog site. I am going to set up a separate page here linking to some of my favorite posts of mine. I may not get this done by the close of business today (though I very much hope to), so if there are to be changes to this blog after today, that will be it. Maybe it’s unnecessary, but it’s something I want to do, for my own benefit, if for no one else’s. I am selfish to the bitter end.

I guess that just about covers it. The new blog is set up, and the first post is already there. I feel like there’s more I want to say, but there are just no more words.

The rest is silence…

Penultimate Postings

I’m going to get to my big announcement/update post later, but before I do that, I did want to post some links to things I’ve found worthwhile out there in the land of internet reading.

• I’ve been especially enjoying Slate’s conversation about the end of term cases from the Supreme Court between Dahlia Lithwick and Walter Dellinger.  I’m a little behind on reading all the posts, not because it’s incredibly dense, because it isn’t, but because I’ve been a little busy and preoccupied.  It’s definitely worth a look, though.
• Charming, but single has a post I really relate to about writing.  It’s a great little significant story, and she tells it so well. 
• Gail writes beautifully and passionately about knowing she’s right and yet enduring the ridicule and scorn of those who can’t see it and think she’s wrong.  My response to such open criticism is usually to run and hide or find something else to talk about, but Gail bravely fights on. 
• Jeff Ellis has so many interesting and informative posts that it’s hard to keep track or pick just one, but I particularly enjoyed his observations about being out of touch with the latest youthful slang.  I was never all that much in touch with the slang to begin with, and I’m not quite as old as Jeff, but I still relate.  I’ve had other moments like that, when it finally hits you that you’re getting older, or that you’re older than you think of yourself as being.  Especially here lately. 
• Litwit has written a tongue-in-cheek singles ad that I really got a kick out of. 
• The Times has a review of the iPhone.  The hype was big, but the phone (they say) mostly meets it, though of course, there are flaws and quirks.  I must admit that I really didn’t get all the fuss at first, but now that I keep seeing ads for it on T.V., I’ve started to want one.  Only no way I’m shelling out all that money to buy one, and I really don’t need it or wouldn’t really get all that much use out of it anyway.  It’s just cool and so that part of me that loves new gadgets and fun technology wants it. 

Oh, and last but not least, it’s Wednesday One-Liners at Overheard in New York, so click on over and keep on scrolling down.  Some of it is not for the faint of heart the weak of stomach or the easily offended, so be warned…This one had me in stitches, though.  Poor New Jersey:

Pilot: For those of you on the right side of the aircraft, there will be a great view of Manhattan. We’ll be coming up the Hudson and making a turn over Central Park heading into the Southwest. For those of you on the left side of the aircraft, well… you get Newark, sorry.

–Flight 3188 into LaGuardia

Overheard by: Wendy to the right

From Deep Within

As most of you reading this already know, from this post and the dearth of blogging following it, last week was not a particularly good week for me. This week is not shaping up to be too much better. It seems that no matter how much I try to get away from certain things, they continue to pop up, usually just when I start to feel to fog lift and see the sunlight beyond the dreariness of my current situation and mood.

The thing that happened last week was particularly upsetting, and just sort of kept piling on as well, so it brought all of the old stuff back up again, the stuff I thought I’d gotten past already. So that’s what made it especially bad. I think perhaps I as just in denial about being over some of it, in an out-of-sight, out-of-mind kind of way, or possibly in a self-delusional way as well. I mean, if I were over things the way I thought I was and the way I should you, the happenings of last week wouldn’t have hit me nearly as hard as they did.

I’ve never been one to get over things easily or quickly. So these feelings have lingered a bit longer than they should have. I’m still in something of a funk over it. But that’s the way it goes.

My mother was talking to me the other day, and she said that she’s heard that it’s harder to get over being left by someone you love rather than the death of someone you love. I’m not sure I believe that’s true. She was saying it to try and comfort me over my lingering sadness and issues surrounding the end of my relationship. I appreciated it, but I didn’t honestly believe it was true. She said that people say it’s harder because with death, at least there is finality. It may be harder or more difficult initially, but it’s over and done with all at once, whereas with a break-up there are lingering concerns that flare up from time to time that mean it is never really over.

I’ve thought about it a little bit since then, and then I was reading something the other day that made me think of something else that might make it easier, though even now I’m still skeptical. When someone you love dies, you can sometimes be comforted by the fact that, if they were alive, they would still love you and still be proud of you and still want to be with you and know you and share with you and all the rest. When someone leaves you though, the exact opposite is true. That person obviously doesn’t love you anymore, and doesn’t want to be around you anymore, and that makes it harder to move on because it makes it harder to feel good about yourself. When someone you love dies, you can imagine them looking in on you from beyond, or imagine how happy or proud or whatever they would be of you if they were only there. It might be sad that they aren’t, and bring about a little pang of sorrow or whatever. But it doesn’t actually make you feel worse about yourself. It doesn’t make you feel rejected.

It’s hard to deal with rejection, especially if, like me, you are already prone to being down on yourself.

I still don’t think I buy that it’s harder, though. It shouldn’t be at any rate. Though it did make me think for a brief moment if I’d prefer it if my ex had died rather than dumped me and started seeing someone else. It didn’t take me too long to conclude that I wouldn’t prefer that at all. Not only would I be in as much, if not more, pain, but it would hurt too many other people that I care about and would cut his life short, which I wouldn’t wish at all, even if it meant I would experience significantly less pain than I have over the past few months.

I have, more than once, and not without sadness, wished that I could go back to the moment I first met him and that I could hold onto that initial impression I had of him, rather than getting to know him and growing to like him and then to love him. I would lose a lot of pleasant memories, ones that still make me smile despite myself, but I would also lose a whole lot of pain, and when I thought of him, if I did at all, it would be as someone inconsequential and insignificant to me. Still, even this is unsatisfactory.

Don’t know what made me go off on that tangent. It’s not that it’s not relevant, but it’s not what I wanted to say. The past week has taught me some things. I need to make some changes, some of which you’ll be hearing about, because they will involve this blog.

But I’ll save that for another post. Look for it tomorrow.

Yes, It Does

A Secret.

They’ve also added comments over there at PostSecret. I’ve never noticed it before, so I assume it’s new. Not sure how I feel about that. Sometimes, I’ve read one that I might want to respond to, but opening it up for comment seems to go against the whole spirit of the endeavor, which is to offer a place for people to disclose secrets, not a place for people to discuss or debate those secrets.

Then again, you can just skip the comments if you don’t want to read them…which is what I think I’ll do, even if curiousity over what’s being said might take over at some point.

The Jazz Chronicles

I’m really worried about my cat.

She’s always been a little off, I guess. She was a stray, as almost all of the cats adopted by my family have been. She was just a little kitten when my mom and I found her in the parking lot of my mom’s dance studio. At the time, that area of town wasn’t really well developed, and there were a lot of empty lots. My mom’s studio was one of the few businesses open there, then. It seems that empty or abandoned lots are great places to dump unwanted pets. I remember when my sister and I were young, we were playing in the wooded lot across the street from our house and we found these two incredibly young kittens. Their eyes weren’t even open yet, and they weren’t weaned from their mother yet. Still, someone had dumped them off in the woods and my sister and I happened upon them. We went and got our mom and she brought them home. We took them to the vet to try and figure out how the help them survive. He gave us bottles to feed them with and formula to mix up for them, but a week later both of them were dead. It was absolutely horrible.

But I was talking about my cat. My current cat. When my mom and I found her outside the studio that night, we took her home. She was so small and cute. When we’d decided to keep her, Mom said that she could be mine. My sister already had a couple of the cats that belonged to her (one had been a Christmas present, and another a present from a boyfriend), so this one got to be mine. I named her Jazz, because I was totally obsessed with John Stockton and the Utah Jazz at the time.

I don’t remember her being skittish at first. There are even pictures (well, one picture - our family isn’t too big on them, I guess) of me holding her, which would never happen now that she’s so easily frightened. I’m not sure when she developed such nervousness. I think it might have been around the time we had her spayed. She didn’t like that at all. It traumatized her so much, she hid under the bed for a couple of days and wouldn’t come out.

Then, the rest of her fearful behavior followed. She would run and hide from people she didn’t know, and even sometimes from those she did. She seemed to prefer women to men, I suspect because the men she’d mostly come in contact with, living in our house, had been a little on the loud side and she didn’t seem to like loud too much.

She also got extremely fat. Probably even unhealthily so. Only she never seemed to eat very much, because she was such a scaredy cat that she wouldn’t come when the food got put out, and would hang back and let all the other cats eat first, so she wouldn’t get very much food. But seriously, she was fat. Picking her up was like lifting a small child, which didn’t matter much because she was very hard to catch, and also very strong, so that if you did manage to catch her and pick her up, she would push very hard to get away, making it almost impossible to actually hold her for any length of time.

All of these things are still true, by the way. It’s not like she’s dead or anything. Well, except the part about her being fat. She’s not fat anymore, but I’m getting to that.

When the storm hit, the cats stayed in the house alone. The flood water came in, and luckily, none of the cats died. They all managed to get away from it safely, though a couple of them must have been in it at some point because when we got back to the house, they were wet.

That day was so scary and sad. To walk into your home and realize that it had been filled with nearly five feet of water was really something. All the furniture had floated around, making it very hard to navigate once we actually got inside. We checked to make sure we could find all of the cats. Jazz, poor thing, she got frightened by my grandfather coming in and she ran into the basement, which had been one of her favorite hiding places before. Only this was just after the storm, so the basement was still full of water. Not completely full, but definitely had a couple of feet of water still sitting in it.

So we could hear her splashing and thrashing around in it, and then we could hear her scuffle up onto some piece of furniture and then she started moaning, a horrible sound, like she was dying or something. But we couldn’t do anything about it. The basement still had all that water in it, and it was getting dark outside so we needed to get back to my grandfather’s where we were staying (because all the power was out and the roads impassible), and there was so much funiture turned over and floating around down there and the water was icky bayou water and thus not at all clear, so there was no way to even see where she was, let only not get hurt going in after her. It was too dangerous.

I was so upset, though. We had to leave the house, and I was bawling all the way back up the street to the car. We’d had to park so far away because of all the trees in the road. We made it back the next day when it was light once again, and after doing a thorough search of the house, we found her. Under the bed in my room. She wouldn’t come out for days. Just like the time we’d had her spayed. She had been traumatized once again.

Really, it’s been since then. She hasn’t been the same. She’s lost so much weight, she’s really thin now. And she’s stopped taking care of herself. She also developed this really bad allergic reaction to something and lost a whole bunch of her hair. She’s been back to the doctor several times, yet it doesn’t seem to be getting better. She just lays around now. She doesn’t even run like she’s scared anymore.

It’s almost like she’s depressed.

I remember reading somewhere once that pets will often take on the traits of their owners. Or maybe I never actually read it anywhere, and it just seems like one of those things that should be true. I’ve been a little depressed of late, it’s true. Not cripplingly so, mind you, for the most part. I’ve just been under a cloud or in a funk. The past couple of days have been pretty bad, though, and just now, when I was walking by Jazz, the thought occurred to me that it might be my fault. I might be making her sick by being so down myself.

I dismissed the thought, though. After all, she’s been like this pretty much since the storm, and my mood hasn’t been that way for nearly that long. So maybe it really is that pets can get depressed and traumatized, and she was by the storm, and it’s just taking her a while to get over it. Probably, she never will, unless something else big happens. But that’ll just end up sending her to an early grave or something.

Still, I can’t get the thought out of my head that the two of us, pet and owner, seem to be in something of the same boat at the moment. I found myself looking at her and thinking, I know how she feels. Silly, yes, but true.

I am still worried about her, though. And I just wanted to tell someone, so here it is. Perhaps one more trip to the vet, just to see if there’s anything else he can do for her, wouldn’t be a complete waste of time.

I Know I Said I’d Be Back Today

Well, folks, today isn’t much better than yesterday. I’m still not feeling particularly chatty, or really very well at all. I am no longer angry, but I am feeling hurt and upset and confused and bewildered and a whole other host of things all that the same time, which isn’t particularly pleasant. It makes it very difficult to cut through of all that to try and find something interesting to say. (I would blog about what I’m upset about, but I assure you you’d all find it dreadfully boring, and you’d all wonder just why I found it so upsetting in the first place.)

However, I shall endeavor to find something that I might be interested in blogging about, because, right now, the topics really aren’t coming. Last night was pretty rough, again, as far as sleep and emotional wear and tear goes, so my brain is far from its full functioning capacity.

In the meantime, check out some of the fabulous blogs and links to the right.

To My Daily Readers

This is just to let you know that tomorrow there will likely be no blogging tomorrow. As of right this moment, I am extremely pissed off, and I’m afraid if I start to post anything, I’ll just end up going off on that which I am pissed about, and this would not be good for you or for me.

I did want to post something by way of explanation, though, since I’ve been really good about updating most days, in case anyone stopped by for their daily dose of Shannon only to discover absolutely nothing. I wouldn’t want you all to worry. So here we are.

Seriously, the humor is a mask for darker forces. If by some miracle, I happen to be over the thing I’m upset about now (which, if you know me at all, you know is highly unlikely), then blogging as normal will resume tomorrow. Otherwise, I should be relatively back to normal by Thursday.

Just another warning: it’s also highly unlikely that I will get any sleep tonight, so if by some chance I do blog tomorrow, it’s likely to be incoherent anyway, so perhaps it’s just better if you all stay away. For your own protection. My incoherent ramblings are particularly dangerous when brought on by exhaustion.

A happy Wednesday to you all!

More on Knocked Up and Abortion

I thoroughly enjoyed this post by Alex Massie which discusses the “controversy” regarding the politics of abortion and the film Knocked Up.  I’ve blogged about this before, and find it to be a fascinating topic, and this post covers it all.  Really, it’s so well-written and thought out that I wish I’d written it myself. 

He discusses some of the reactions from various bloggers and pundits, manages to work in an interesting discussion of The 40 Year Old Virgin (which is one of the more thought-provoking responses to that film I’ve ever read), and even extrapolates it out to some larger point about politics in film generally. 

Link via Ross Douthat. 

It’s quite long, but well worth the read, so check it out. 

The Obligatory Update Post

So here are some updates on my life and the crazy things I like to blog about from time to time.

I did indeed take dance class again last night. I didn’t take the whole class. Think it’s best to ease my way in.  For those familiar with ballet, I just took the barre portion of the class.  I’m not nearly as sore this morning as I was the last time, so either it did get a little easier, or else not staying for the whole class helped.  Either way, it’ll make me better able to make it to the rest of the classes this week and hopefully get some momentum going.  Now all I need to do is lose some weight (especially considering one of my fellow bloggers, both much taller and male, reports weighing less than I do), but as that involves the dreaded “D” word, I think I’ll just switch to another topic now. 

I completely forgot to mention before, but I saw the Prius again on Friday. It was strange, too, because I’d been taking my regular route all week and hadn’t seen it. But then on Friday, I took a completely different route, because I was going out that night rather than home, and there it was. The banged up, white Prius with the familiar company info on the side. The saga continues, curiouser and curiouser.

The Macbook continues to work for me.  He and I (I haven’t named him yet…I’m open to suggestions) had a little stress the other day because I let his battery run low and it wouldn’t recharge at first.  But all is well once again, and we’ll be very happy together, I’m sure. 

I’m also currently mulling a decision that could greatly impact the course of my life.  Even more so than buying a Mac.  So stay tuned.  You’ll be the first to know.  Okay, so maybe not the first, but still.  I promise to keep you apprised of anything really important. 

Really Old Films

I wish I had more time to look at this right now, but I don’t.  Still, thought someone happening here might find it of interest.  Plus linking it here will make it easier for me to find it later. 

I will say that, in reading through the first couple of slides, I find it very interesting that the exhibit in question juxtaposed early cinema with paintings.  I am unconvinced, like the author of the slides, that 19th century art played much of a role in the development of cinema.  Especially right at the start.  It cannot be doubted that film is an art form today, nor can it really be denied that many early filmmakers were artists in their own right, but I don’t think that, at the time, they were considered such, nor do I think that they drew much inspiration from the more highbrow art world of the time. 

I could be wrong, I suppose.  But I just don’t seem much of a relationship there. 

Trying Again

Despite the fact that it kicked my ass two weeks ago today, I’m going to attempt another ballet class this evening.

The summer is a bad time to choose to get back into any semblance of ballet shape. In a way, it’s better, because the class combines several different levels, which means it’s easier than a normal class would be. However, the schedule is sporadic in the summer months. There are three classes a week, but not ever two weeks in a row. Since it knocks me out so much and makes it nearly impossible for me to get to another class in the same week, I end up having to wait a couple of weeks for another opportunity, at which point my body has delved back into stubborn laziness.

A part of me really doesn’t want to go. I don’t like pain. I don’t like it when it’s hard. I don’t like how fat I am, in a room surrounded by amazingly skinny little girls.

However, I was mulling over whether or not I should go this evening on my drive home from work, when a thought popped into my head that almost made me cry. Despite everything, the difficulty, the pain, the fact that I don’t look anywhere near my best, I still feel beautiful when I dance. I even felt it two weeks ago when I took that class, as painfully out of shape as I am in my current state. When I got in that room and started to move, I felt beautiful. In fact, it’s probably the first time in a long time that I’ve felt that way.

So, yeah, I’m going to go. I’ll let you know later whether an hour and a half of beauty is worth three days of pain. I’m thinking that, even for an old pessimist like me, the answer will be yes.

Question of the Day - 6.18.07

Is it wrong that I think I’m funny?

This Might Just Be My Favorite

Okay, this is the funniest one I’ve read in a while.  No story to go along with it.  Just some good laughs:

Well, Screw Him and His Oscillating Misnomers

Eye candy: Why would he say that I was not educated?
Friend: Well, that’s not exactly what he said, now was it?
Eye candy: No, he said I was tapid and voided of thought.
Friend: Vapid and devoid of thought.
Eye candy: Same thing.

–Manhattan-bound F train

Overheard by: SandmanEsq
via Overheard in New York, Jun 15, 2007

Reading stuff like this really makes me wish I’d spent less time listening to my iPod on the train when I lived in NYC. 

In Case You Want to Know What They’re Thinking

The local paper of record here in South Mississippi, The Sun Herald, has finally joined the land of the living and started an editors blog.  It should provide some mild form of entertainment, so I will be sure to check it from time to time.

Of the early posts, I found this one to be particularly amusing.  Colbert may be an ass (and he is, which is probably why he’s so popular), but I’m equally sure that no one who dares to call herself a serious journalist should really be taking him too seriously. 

I know, I know, scores of young people get their news from Stewart and Colbert.  Or so we’re led to believe.  I, for one, am dubious of that, because most of the people I know who love to watch that crap those shows are pretty well informed in the first place.  I can’t imagine it would be nearly as funny to watch if that was the only news you were ever exposed to.  But even if it is true, the fault for that doesn’t lie with the guy who delivers the fake news in the first place. 

And, please, Colbert defenders:  no nasty emails or comments, please.  It’s just not my cup of tea.  I will say this for him, though:  I don’t dislike him nearly as much as I dislike Bill Maher. 

There are also two whole posts on that now infamous Sopranos series finale.  One before it aired and another after.  Reading and hearing people talk about this finale (almost) makes me wish I’d made more of an effort to get into that show.  Perhaps I can pick it up on DVD, though I’m sure it won’t be the same. 

Ad Reviews

I absolutely love reading Seth Stevenson’s Ad Report Card features in Slate.  The latest is no exception.  It’s fun because if you’ve seen the ads, and you have a strong opinion about them, then you don’t feel so stupid reading someone else talk about it.  And if you haven’t, then you get exposed to new things that you can keep an eye out for. 

I meant to blog last week about his article on the vitaminwater spots.  In fact, I thought I had.  But I see now that I neglected to do so, which is a grave oversight on my part, if for no other reason than this spot which features David Ortiz and Brian Urlacher playing badmitton.  Absolutely freakin’ hilarious. 

I used to drink vitaminwater when I still lived in New York, especially that summer I took the bar exam.  Every day after my lecture at Town Hall, I’d head home and go to the deli around the corner and get some to drink, mostly as a way to get vitamins to stave off sickness.  Of course, I’d also go into Dunkin Donuts and get iced coffee loaded down with cream and sugar and (usually) a donut or a bagel. 

I liked the vitaminwater well enough (and it made me feel like I was doing something semi-healthy by drinking it, even if that wasn’t exactly the case), but I never particularly thought about it in the same was as other “sports” beverages like Gatorade.  Part of his point in the article is that the new marketing campaign for the drink is all over the place, trying to appeal to a very broad audience. 

I don’t drink it really anymore.  They sell it around here.  I’ve seen it.  But I’ve sworn off all things healthy (remotely or otherwise), so there you have it. 

These articles are educational, too.  For example, I did not know that the proper spelling was “vitaminwater.”  I would have gone with Vitamin Water myself.  I’m so square.  Square enough to call myself square, even. 

Why I’m Standing Still

Note:  The somber reflection that follows in this post is brought to you by my Monday morning funk.  You have been warned.

Upon further reflection, I don’t think I’ll be able to blog much about my very strange weekend.  One of the things that happened is absolutely none of my business.  Another of the things is none of your business.  And the third…well, it’s hard to say exactly.  Perhaps I will share more of it at some point.  It’s just not exactly a highlight of my existence (though hardly the lowest of the lowlights either), and while I’m not normally averse to making myself look bad on this blog, something gives me pause this time.  And I could expound on the rest of my weekend, but that’s just more of the same crap as always, and even I’m starting to get bored with that. 

I feel in some ways that I’m standing at a corner.  I’ve been standing at this corner for a while now, and I need to choose which direction I’m going to go:  right or left.  Straight ahead is no longer an option.  I’ve been doing that for a while now, and it’s really not getting me much of anywhere.  Left is probably the easier option, and it’s also probably more attractive, but it’s also not, if I’m honest with myself, what I need to be doing.  I’ve probably already made a slight turn in that direction anyway of late. 

I also don’t want to lose everything I’ve built up to this point, however disappointing it has turned out to be for me.  This would mean turning right.  Only this is extremely difficult, and I worry about my sanity and my survival if I so choose.  I only slightly exaggerate. 

Of course, the one thing I want to do is turn back, to have things the way they were when they made sense to me, to have another chance to do it right.  Unfortunately, I have no way to time travel, so this is simply not possible.  But my strong desire to do that is what keeps me standing still, what keeps me from choosing a direction for my life, because while I know I need to choose, I don’t really desire either choice.  

When I’ve come out of my funk, I’ll try to post something…different.  Of course, at this rate, it’ll be 2010 before that happens.  Or, you know, around 2:00 p.m.  Whichever comes first.

Not Just Another Sunday

It’s been a strange, not entirely bad but not altogether good, weekend. Perhaps I’ll have more to say about it later.

I will say this though: every time I hear something bad or upsetting, or something good and wonderful, I hate that the one person I want to call and tell and share it with and talk to about it, I can’t. It’s like a part of me is missing.

But that’s the way it goes, I suppose. Life goes on, and love goes free.

In the meantime, if you’ve never checked it out, go see PostSecret. I’ve often felt like sending one in, but I always have trouble finding postcards, and then the moment passes.

I’ll leave you with the following from E.E. Cummings:

my father moved through dooms of love
through sames of am through haves of give,
singing each morning out of each night
my father moved through depths of height

this motionless forgetful where
turned at his glance to shining here;
that if(so timid air is firm)
under his eyes would stir and squirm

newly as from unburied which
floats the first who,his april touch
drove sleeping selves to swarm their fates
woke dreamers to their ghostly roots

and should some why completely weep
my father’s fingers brought her sleep:
vainly no smallest voice might cry
for he could feel the mountains grow.

Friday Funnies from the City

So after a dearth of really humorous stuff, Overheard in New York has a plethora of amusement.  Seriously, almost all of the recent posts are very funny. 

I like to quote one, as usual, and I had a hard time picking. I almost went with this one, because it was really funny and reminds me of this guy, but I ended up settling with the following because it resonated with me on a personal level:

Just Get Her a “Be Like Me” T-shirt with Your Picture

NYU student: So, I think I’m just going to tell my girlfriend, ‘You know, I’ve been going to the gym a lot, working out, watching what I eat, and I think you should, too.’
Friend, as all receptionists stare: Yeah, no — you really can’t say that.

–Palladium Gym, NYU
via Overheard in New York, Jun 15, 2007

Friday Disappointments

I came somewhat close to almost getting to possibly meet Barack Obama. But it wasn’t to be.

Netflix sent me a disc from way down on my list, even though everything above it said available. Since I’m on my T.V. series kick, I can’t just watch some disc 1 from another show before I’ve finished the one I’m working on now. So I sent it back and now I have to wait that extra time for the next disc. Aggravation, thy name is Netflix (but you’re still better than Blockbuster, so I’m not going anywhere).

I was thinking of going to New Orleans to see a movie this weekend (since my trip last time was such a success), but gas prices are so high. Pretty soon, I’m not going to be able to afford to drive to and from work anymore.

I almost did something really horrible and stupid this week.  I ended up not, which is good, but I’m still disappointed in myself that the possibility of doing something so monstrous could have even crossed my mind. 

I got an email yesterday from someone else at work about organizing my high school reunion, which will be next year.  Yikes.  I feel so old.  I shouldn’t be this old. 

My list of 100 Things seems to be destined to hover at just over 50 (sorry, but I haven’t checked it in a while and even I’m not interested in it enough to look and see exactly how many additions I’ve made) and not grow any more at all.  Who knew I was so boring?

Oh, yeah, and I just read that Company is closing.  Since I’m not going to make it to NYC by the end of the month, I’m going to have to miss it.  Originally, I was supposed to have made a trip back to New York by now, in which case I would have gotten to see it.  Oh, well. 

There’s more, but I can’t really say.  I’ll just leave you with lyrics from Aimee Mann:

Something isn’t right
I don’t know how I know
But baby, it’s despite
Your dog-and-pony show

I can hear it coming
You’re only going through the motions, baby
With your engines humming
You’re just going through the motions, baby

The State of Things This Thursday

I started a new screenplay last night.  No, not the one I was writing for Script Frenzy.  I definitely lost my passion for that one.  This was a new idea that came to me.  I wish I could say more, but I can’t.  Or I could, but I won’t.  I don’t normally like to talk about what I’m writing anyway, but this is unique, even in that regard.  It’s deeply personal, and since I don’t mind getting pretty personal here most of the time, you can imagine what it must entail. 

Or maybe you can’t.  I really have no idea. 

Of course, this means it will probably never go anywhere except on the hard drive of my computer.  But I still felt it had to be written in that form, and no other.  I see the pictures in my mind.  I think it’ll make an awesome screenplay and would make a great movie.  Pity no one will ever see it because it’ll never get made.  No one will ever even read it but me.  There are some secrets, some thoughts, some feelings, some emotions that are too deep, too dark, too painful, and too real to be shared with others.  Right now, I just have to get them out in the only way I know how.

I really know how to lighten the mood around here, don’t I?

I think I’ve settled on the color scheme I’ve got now.  I might tweak a little with variations on the theme, but other than that, I think I like it.  Thoughts?  I really like the text and sidebar and link colors a lot, so I probably won’t change those at all.  I’m not sure about the header, though.  Suggestions? 

I haven’t seen my favorite little beat up car this week.  I wanted you guys to have good information, though, so I did a little recon work.  I did determine that it is, in fact, a Prius.  There are at least two of them that the company employs in their fleet.  One is the beat up one that I see that guy driving to and from work everyday.  The other one seems to stay in the parking lot, so is probably just driven during the work day for business purposes.  Or else the person who drives it works on a different, and longer, schedule than the other drivers. 

I can’t get over the fact that the Prius seems an odd choice for a company car, especially considering these guys also have a fleet of SUVs.  Guess they’re trying to balance the environmental impact out a bit.

I’ve been enamored of late by Aimee Mann’s The Forgotten Arm.  It’s such a beautifully sad and melancholy album.  It’s really suited my mood recently.  It’s wonderfully lyrical, and as a bonus, it actually tells a story of love and addiction, not to mention boxing.  It’s sort of like Rocky meets Days of Wine and Roses - but, you know, in song instead of on film.  So, more profound and lyrical rather than linear and narrative driven.  One of the tracks skips, but what can you do?

Faith & Reason

I thought a lot about whether I wanted to post this before starting to type this.  This is unusual for me.  Normally, I read something and if I think it’s interesting, I post it, and I’m willing to share my thoughts without thinking much about it at all.  This probably explains why a lot of the time my posts make absolutely no sense whatsoever.

I’m not sure why I gave this one so much thought.  Maybe because I wasn’t sure what to say about it at all.  But when I saw this post still on WordPress’ Blog of the Minute this morning, I decided to go ahead and bite the bullet. 

Before I go any further, I should probably just link to the post itself. 

Here it is.

Still, I’ll offer a summary.  The author makes a point that has been made many times before, or so it would appear, by those who wish to refute the claim that the Bible is the infallible word of God.  The author cites I Kings 7:23-26, which includes some measurements which, the long and short of it is, seem to suggest that Pi = 3, not 3.14 etc. on and on into infinity like we all know it does.  (No, I am not a mathematician.  Why do you ask?)  The author then calls upon all Bible literalists to stand beside this statement of God, and reject the mathematically proven concept of Pi, the same way they stand behind creationism and reject evolution. 

The post is well worth a read, as are a lot of the comments that follow it.  Some of the commenters make various points refuting the author’s argument, not by quoting more of the Bible, but by using math and logic themselves.  Several point out that the measurement in question, a cubit, is itself an approximation, and therefore it isn’t surprising that the equation specified would show Pi=3, since the measurements aren’t exact. 

I don’t really have anything constructive to add to the discussion on the merits.  For one thing, math is pretty much a foreign language to me.  I know enough to get the basics, and if you sit me down and talk real slow and maybe explain it two or three times in a couple of different ways, I usually catch on.  But I don’t really care to devote myself to this all that much, especially when there are much more knowledeable people out there on both sides already doing it. 

I am a person of faith.  I was raised to believe, and the particular faith I at least nominally adhere to still, that the Bible is the literal word of God and that it is infallible.  Still, as a human myself, I cannot help but be attracted to the position that, assuming the Bible is the word of God, it was still spoken to men and transcribed by men, and that it is more than possible (if not probable) that something gets lost in the transcription.  Not to mention the translation.

This is part of what I meant the other day when I was talking about not being sure the whole faith thing was for me.  Faith does not come easy to me.  Sometimes, I wish it did.  I see other people who have great relationships with God, and it helps them deal with the struggles of their lives.  I look and them and I know them, so I know they are sincere.  I feel like I tried it, too, but instead of florishing, like they did, I failed. 

I think I’m just too logical for it all.  I believe there is a God.  I believe he speaks.  I believe he wants a relationship with every single person on the earth.  I just can’t seem to do it myself.  It isn’t God.  It’s me.  I’m too bound to reason.  I like things to make sense.  I like to understand why things happen.  I believe it because I’ve seen it in other people.  I’ve thought, once or twice, that I saw it in myself as well. 

Then again, maybe faith doesn’t come easily to anyone.  I think most of us are, by nature, the same way as I describe myself.  Some people are just better at transcending the human nature to get at something else.  Other people don’t really want to transcend human nature at all.  Still others try, but are just left feeling like their struggle is in vain.

I don’t think anyone reading this would have a hard time guessing where I’d place myself in those three possibilities. 

Determining Your Accent

I haven’t done a quiz in a while, so away we go:

What American accent do you have? (Best version so far) Southern People used to hate Southern accents but now everyone wants one.

Click Here to Take This Quiz Brought to you by YouThink.com quizzes and personality tests.

I’m a little disappointed in my results. But that’s the way it goes. I am from the South after all. And I wouldn’t say everyone wants one. I can think of a few people I know who wouldn’t want a Southern accent at all.

Quiz via Gail.

More Fun with Color Schemes

Yes, I’m still playing around with the colors. So they might change a bit (or perhaps drastically) here and there over the next few days. Or weeks. Or months. Or years even.

I might even go back to pink.

I know. I’m schizophrenic. Such is life.

Question for the Day - 6.13.07

Where did all the anvils go?

Discuss.

Yes, The Colors Are Changing

So, last night, I was playing around on Blogger and found a template I really liked.  It is totally pink and totally fun.  So I set it for that blog, and was thinking about this one and wishing it could be pink, too.

It wasn’t until this morning that I remembered that this template here on WordPress lets you change the colors around in a flash.  So I did a little playing around, and for a few short hours, this blog was, in fact, pink. 

Only then I realized, maybe I wasn’t so crazy about pink as my blog colors after all.  I mean, I like pink, but I worried it might alienate others who happen upon these distant shores into thinking I’m some sort of frou-frou girly-girl whose blog isn’t worth the space. 

So, I thought about it, and opted to go green instead.  But not before returning to the default blue. 

Hopefull, this color scheme will stick.  But we all know that, with me, anything’s possible.  I’m crazy and indecisive.  A bad combination.

Wednesday Morning Dashes

The weather here is so ridiculously hot, even for South Mississippi in June. It’s not normally cool and refreshing at this time of year by any means, but it’s also usually not in the mid-90s for days on end. It’s disgusting. If it keeps this up, I just might have to move. It’s an idle threat, but still…

In other news, I finally changed that personal gmail address that I was complaining about not to long ago. No, I’m not going to tell you what it is. If you need to contact me, just look to the left for the answer to all your prayers. But I’m hoping it’ll be better than the last one was as far as getting the unwanted email of others (and in case you didn’t read the last post about this, no, I’m not just talking about spam). I sent out an email to all my contacts, which was properly witty and informative (in the way only I can be), and several of them really appreciated it, so that was nice.

Also, I was looking and fiddling around some more on the new Blogger last night, and I seriously may (don’t groan) move back over to my original blog home. Maybe I’m just feeling nostalgic. I still don’t really want to, per se, since I’ve moved this blog around so much since starting it, but it also wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience, just a simple matter of changing the word “wordpress” to the word “blogspot” (neither of which are actual words) in any links you might have. And the wordpress page will still be around, linking back to the blogger page in case any strays come late to the game. It’ll be better than last time, at least, where the whole blog just disappeared and no one knew what had become of me.

I’m not going to do it today, I don’t think (unless I become suddenly inspired, which, let’s face it, is not very likely), but there are some things that I think I prefer about the blogger platform. Perhaps I can blog from there for a little while, see if I really do like it better, before making the switch permanent. We shall see.

I could go on (and on and on and on), but I don’t want to be late for work. More about all of this, and much, much more, later.

Changes Yet Again

Okay, so I know I only changed the theme a couple of days ago, but I decided to add some stuff to the sidebar and I didn’t like how long it was. So I switched (again) to the current one, which has two sidebars.

I think I like it. Hopefully, this one will stick for a while.

Also, not to freak anyone out, but I was thinking earlier today about moving back to Blogger. I know, I know. I drive everyone crazy. It’s hard not to, being certifiable myself and all. I think, though, since I just made all these changes here and I’m pretty happy with them that I will not switch back to Blogger just yet. One day, I may though. They’ve made a lot of changes over there since I left, and there are other things I prefer about it to WordPress.

But never fear. For now, I’m staying put.

I subscribed over at Feedburner today, so I’ve added a link on the left to subscribe to my feedburner feed as well as a link to subscribe via email. So if you’re interested, avail yourself of them.

Monday’s Thoughts on the Weekend’s Woes

This morning was bad.  Worse even than the typical Monday morning.  I absolutely did not want to get up.  I tossed and turned, having woken well before I actually needed to get out of bed, fretting over the fact that eventually, I would have to get up and face the day.  I’ve been better about this lately, so it was very discouraging to wake up this morning feeling that way. 

I didn’t have that great a weekend, which probably didn’t help matters much.  Friday evening, I got together with a friend of mine that I hadn’t really gotten to hang out with in a while.  It should have been fun, and it did end up being fun, but there was some unpleasantness, too.  To start, I was in a mood, as I have been for a couple of days (and still am, more or less…a little less at the moment, but I trend moody, so it fluctuates), but I wasn’t too keen on talking about it with her.  Then, she told me some things that should have been somewhat encouraging (not exactly the right word, but I cannot think of any better), but they only succeeded in upsetting me more.  Still, it was somewhat burden-releasing overall, after we talked about it some more, and my mood improved greatly and we were able to enjoy the rest of the evening.

Still, I left her feeling unsettled.  Even though it was very late, and I was very tired, I didn’t want to go home, so I ended up taking a very ill-advised drive around town.  Then, when I got home, I still couldn’t sleep, so I stayed up very late watching old episodes of Gilmore Girls on DVD.

Saturday was okay.  It would have been an anniversary of sorts, if the ex-boyfriend and I were still together, so that had the potential to put me in a major funk, which it kind of did, but I managed to keep busy enough so that I didn’t have too much time to focus on it.  Still, it was a kind of mundane busy:  running errands, spending money I don’t really have (especially now that I’ve bought a new computer - but it had to be done), driving to and fro. 

Then, yesterday, I went to church.  I haven’t been to church since Easter.  It’s a long and complicated story, but I had been going regularly before that.  That particular date doesn’t have any real significance as far as the story goes, I guess that was just what you could call the breaking point. 

My ceasing to go to church didn’t have anything to do with a change in my belief about God.  At least not at first.  It was more about the associations I had with the church and with the people at the church and my lack of willingness (due to fear) to step out and find someplace to go on my own.  Like I said, it’s complicated.

Anyway, I took a big step out of the box in going on Sunday.  And it wasn’t the instant therapy I’d hoped it would be.  I guess it’s going to be a long row to hoe, and only time will tell whether I’m up for it or not.

Part of my dissatisfaction came from parts of the pastor’s message.  Overall, it was a good message and I didn’t object to it’s main content.  He did, however, diverge onto a couple of tangents that gave me pause.  But that’s going to happen anywhere.  Besides, overall I really like him, so I can look past an occassional odd thought or statement.  Another part of my dissatisfaction had to do with being extremely distracted at the outset, by something which turned out to be nothing.  So I’m hoping I’ll be strong enough to give it another chance.  I have to tell you, though, I’m starting to wonder if all this church stuff is really for me after all. 

In a way, it’s sad that I’ve come to this point.  Just last year at this time, I was pretty on fire for God stuff.  Not so much the particular church I was attending, but the whole notion of praying and discerning God’s will for my life and growing in my relationship with God.  I’m not talking about religion.  I’m talking about faith, fleeting and indiscernible though it may be. 

And it really did help me.  I started to come out of my shell and develop friendships and relationships with others.  And the relationships I already had in my life improved.  I was even able to enter into a romantic relationship.  Prior to this, I believed myself completely incapable of opening up to and relating to another person in this way.  And my previous self would have been completely incapable of such a thing.  It was all thanks to growing in God and trusting in God that I was able to take that particular leap.

Then, another wonderful thing happened.  I was banded together with some really awesome people, in addition to my boyfriend, and I felt like, for possibly the first time in my life, I had a place and a purpose.  I felt as if I fit in this place, with these people, so perfectly.  Even though there was a lot of hurt and pain involved in our union as a group, there was also love and support and friendship and fellowship like I’d never known. 

But that’s all gone now.  Completely and hopelessly shattered, and my heart for God was shattered right along with it.  It’s amazing how one little thing can come along and cripple you seemingly beyond repair, and the one place you’d think you should be able to turn - God - just seems to make it worse every time you try.  It’s not that I don’t believe all of those things that I used to.  I think somewhere, deep down inside, I still do.  It’s just that seeking after those things has, thus far, brought me nothing but pain, so that it makes it hard to continue down that path, even if I know I should.  It was in trying to follow God that I ended up in this place, so that makes it hard to get back up and try to carry on with the following. 

Of course, it’s not supposed to be easy.  So I’m probably just being selfish and immature. 

I also had a fun weekend with my new computer.  It’s amazing how simple things are on a Mac.  Almost too simple.  Like if you’re used to thinking Windows, then you’re going to be very confused as to why something won’t work, only to start hitting yourself in the head when you finally figure it out and realize how easy it really was.  Once I’m fully acclimated to this new, simple life, I’m sure I’ll be even more full of love for my Macbook than I already am. 

Other than that, the weekend was nice.  I read a little more in my quest to re-read all the Harry Potters before the final book comes out.  And I watched those aforementioned episodes of Gilmore Girls.  And I got some bonding time with the fam.  I also got to see the new school my dad will be working at since his promotion.  I’m very proud of him.  He’s a great dad, and he’s going to be a great school principal, too.  I also did some errand running, which always makes me feel productive.  Though not efficient, as I went to the same two stores twice in one day because I forgot things at both places the first time around.

It is ridiculously hot here for June.  I’m hoping it doesn’t stay like this all summer.  I don’t think I could take that. 

Abortion and the Silver Screen

I haven’t seen Knocked Up, but apparently quite a discussion has developed in the blogosphere (is this term still in use?) about the politics of the film. 

Dana Stevens, who in her initial review of the film posited that abortion was not even presented as an option in the film and that this was likely a decision based on marketing, has written a follow up in which she discusses some of the abortion-related hubbub surrounding the film now. 

Again, I would like to point out that I haven’t seen the film, so it would be hard for me to comment on who is right or who is wrong when it comes to the politics of the film.  I don’t mean to say who is right or who is wrong on the issue of abortion, which I also wouldn’t dare to say.  What I’m talking about here is the rightness or wrongness of various commentators who are espousing their believe that the film itself is pro-life or pro-choice. 

I have no opinion on this, obviously, as I haven’t seen the movie.  I would point out, though, that it is at least possible (call me crazy) that the film takes no stance on the politics of abortion at all, and instead is just a story about individuals in a particular situation rather than symbols of a larger movement and issue.

It’s interesting that Stevens brings up Citizen Ruth in her discussion.  I don’t know how many of you have seen that movie, but it’s a send-up of this very thing:  the politics of abortion and how this woman gets caught up in the middle of the debate with everyone treating her not as an individual in a difficult situation but a pawn in the game of abortion, to be moved and used to either side’s advantage.  She brings it up, and acknowledges it for what it is, but doesn’t connect it to Knocked Up and the fact that this film doesn’t seem to do that with the issue at all.  It seems like the film isn’t trying to be political about the issue at all, and there’s absolutely no reason why it should be, in my opinion. 

Of course, she also criticizes Citizen Ruth itself for skirting the issue of abortion by having the main character miscarry before going through with the abortion.  Only, I don’t think this is exactly fair.  First of all, it would seem the only way to end it, since you have these two sides warring and both sides are painted fairly unflatteringly, so to end it with her making the one choice or the other would only give creedence to one of the sides which I don’t think a film in that particular situation could properly afford to do.  Also, the truth is, the character does decide to have the abortion.  She’s pretty clearly made up her mind, as I recall, and it’s only at that point that the decision is taken out of her hands.  It doesn’t matter, to me, that she doesn’t have the chance to go through with the abortion itself.  In this respect, the film does plant itself squarely in the pro-choice column, even if it is disdainful of some of the tactics of that movement’s more vocal members. 

In some ways, I agree with Stevens.  It strikes me as highly unlikely that a woman in this particular situation would not give more consideration to having an abortion than she seems to in the film.  Only, it would, I think, change the whole tone of the movie.  Again, I haven’t seen it, so maybe there is a way it could have been done, having a more thoughtful and serious discussion and consideration of the abortion option while at the same time ultimately having the character choose not to have an abortion.  (She has to have the baby, or there’d be no movie at all.)  But I would think any kind of prolonged consideration of this issue, viable option or not, would put something of a damper on all the fun.  Even if abortion should be a legitimate option for a woman in this situation, there’s just nothing funny about abortion.  And since we’re talking about having to have this consideration toward the beginning of the film, when the woman first finds out she’s pregnant, I really think the entire tone of the film could easily be ruined.

Perhaps, after I see the movie, I will revise my opinion.

Overheard Allergies

Or Does That Mean Rain’s Coming? I Can Never Remember

French hipster girl: I got allergies in New York.
Hipster boy: How can you tell they’re allergies and not a cold? I mean, it’s winter.
French hipster girl: Well, I know because the back of my thong is itchy.

–JFK
via Overheard in New York, Jun 7, 2007

Okay, so this one’s not that funny.  But it did call to mind the fact that I never had allergies before I moved to New York.  After I’d been there a couple of years, I developed them and now I still have them, even though I’m not there anymore.

What’s that all about?

It also reminds me of this guy from college.  He and I went on a date once.  It wasn’t a very good date, in retrospect, but at the time I kind of enjoyed it.  He asked if he could call me again and then never did, so that was that. 

Anyway, he was a nice enough guy.  He had really bad allergies.  I ran into him in the dining hall one day, in the post-date era, and he was all stuffed up and sneezy and watery.  It was actually really disgusting.  But he was nice, and the only person in the room I knew, and also I’d already sat down, so I couldn’t run away.  He ended up getting up and leaving shortly after that.  He seemed pretty miserable, actually.  Because of the allergies, that is.  I didn’t see him much after that.

Until I’d left college and was in law school, that is.  My friend had gotten me tickets to see Assassins on Broadway for my birthday, and I got there early, so I stood outside waiting for her and…there he was.  Standing outside with some girl.  Right by the theater next door, which had a performance of a pornographic version of Alice in Wonderland.  They started letting people into the theater (for Assassins, which was at Studio 54), and he and his companion went in. 

My friend was running late, so when she finally got there we did our usual pleasantries and then I told her that I had seen him.  And she remarked at what a coincidence it was that I’d seen him, right when we walked right by him.  I was so nervous that we were going to end up sitting right next to him or something.  But the rest of the evening was fine.

To tell the truth, I’m not even 100% sure it was him.  But I’m almost virtually certain.  Like 99.7% sure.   

Interesting the direction this post took from the jumping off point of allergies.  My mind is both a strange and wonderful place.  Mostly the former. 

Not Really about Paris

So…Jeff Ellis defends Paris Hilton on using her fame to get out of jail early, and the next day she gets sent back to jail.

Coincidence?  Perhaps.  But I think not. 

Speaking of Jeff Ellis, he’s back to blogging again.  He used to be over at Blogger, but now he’s at Typepad now, so go check out his new blog.  I was going to try to slink by with just adding him discreetly to my blogroll and never saying another thing about it, but he caught me and posted some really nice things about me over at his blog, so I felt shamed into doing the same here. 

In all seriousness, Jeff’s a brilliant writer and he’s always got something interesting to say about lots of different things, as opposed to me, who has almost nothing interesting to say about only one thing:  myself.  So you should definitely check his blog out.  And his books, too, while you’re at it. 

He is right about one thing:  the name of my blog is pretty good.  Even I can be clever on occasion.  Of course, it’s less relevant now that I no longer live in Yankeeville.  Perhaps one day I will return and make my blog whole again.

He’s also right about Paris, I think.  Why shouldn’t she use her status to try and garner special treatment?  No one wants to spend 45 days in jail, and most people, given the ability to get out of it, would do the same…short of breaking the law or something like that.  Randy Cohen might disagree, and maybe it is “wrong” on some ethical level, but it’s hardly surprising or really all that outrage-inducing, at least on her part.  The real fault, as Jeff rightly points out (and as the judge acknowledged today in sending her back to jail) is with the system for giving into her. 

For Theatre Lovers and the Theater Ignorant Alike

Peter Filichia in Slate writes passionately in defense of theater and what it has taught him.  It’s a must read. 

And yes, the switch from “-re” to “-er” in the title was intentional.  I’m prone to the “-re” but it also seems a bit affected, so I try not to use it. 

Delicate

Today’s song lyrics come to us from Damien Rice, the first song on his album O, called “Delicate.”  Here goes:

We might kiss when we are alone
When nobody’s watching
We might take it home
We might make out when nobody’s there
It’s not that we’re scared
It’s just that it’s delicate

So why’d you fill my sorrows
With the words you’ve borrowed
From the only place you’ve known
And why’d ya sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why’d you sing with me at all?

We might live like never before
When there’s nothing to give
Well how can we ask for more
We might make love in some sacred place
The look on your face is delicate

So why’d you fill my sorrow
With the words you’ve borrowed
From the only place that you’ve known
And why’d you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why’d you sing with me at all?

And why’d you fill my sorrows
With the words you’ve borrowed
From the only place that you’ve known
Why’d you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why’d you sing with me at all?

Hodgepodge

Well, the soreness has mostly become bearable.  I’m still really sore, don’t get me wrong.  But it’s a little easier to walk.  I’m thinking I will attempt the dance class tonight after all, though I may not make it through the whole thing in my condition. 

I’ve also been writing a lot.  I sort of forgot about Script Frenzy, so I’m not sure if I’ll be picking up my script again or not.  It’s really not that late in the month and I could probably swing it, but I’m not nearly as excited about my script as I was a couple of weeks ago.  Oh well.  I did write one scene though.  The last one.  Maybe it’s something I’ll come back to on my own later. 

But I’ve been writing other things.  Just jotting down odd sentences here and there, mostly.  But I’ve even started a couple of poems.  Yeah, I know, I never thought of myself as much of a poet, but lately I’ve found myself drawn to writing poems.  I sometimes feel like I have all these feelings bottled up inside and I want some way to express them, but none of the other forms of writing I’ve tried seem to do the trick.  I could just keep a journal as a way to get them out, but that’s pretty much what this blog is, and still the thoughts come.  I’ve been thinking for a while that poetry might be my best bet as far as a mode of expression goes.  Trouble is, I’m something of a woeful poet.  Or at least I think I am. 

I must say, I’ve been enjoying the exercise thus far.  I’ve even got a couple of full-fledged poems started.  One came to me this morning as I was driving to work, and I rushed to get here, hoping all of it wouldn’t seep out of my brain before I could get it jotted down.  I haven’t felt like that in a while when it comes to writing.  So that’s pretty cool, even if nothing ever comes of it.

Though lately, I’ve been thinking it would be really cool to be a poet.  In more than just the way that jotting down poetry makes you a poet.  I mean a poet in the sense that when someone asks you what you do, you can say that you are a poet. 

I don’t think that’ll ever happen.  And next week, I’m sure I’ll be into something else anyway.   So stay tuned.

In other news…

I changed the template for the blog (in case you didn’t notice).  Thoughts?

And I’m still loving the new MacBook.  I managed to get most of my music files transferred over.  Not all of them are there, but I’m thinking they might have been stored in a different folder on my hard drive.  So I’m going to have to investigate that this evening.  But so far, the great transition is going…well, great. 

Fun Little Test

A friend of mine emailed this to me and I enjoyed it, so I thought I’d post it here for you guys to enjoy as well. 

It’s just a fun little quiz.  I got 18 right. 

First Post from the New Computer

It was a very nerve-wracking day for me in Computerland.

First of all, I checked in the morning morning and saw that it was on the truck for delivery. I was so excited that it was coming, but also very nervous that something was going to go wrong with the delivery. I knew someone had to be home to sign for it, and I was going to be at work all day. The delivery guy usually comes around 2:00 or so, in the afternoon (duh!), so I made sure to print and sign those delivery slips, just in case, so that the delivery guy could leave it if no one was home to sign in person.

Anyway, I kept checking the tracking updates online like a crazy person all day at work. I even signed up for the updates by email. But there were no updates. There was no word. Every time I checked, it merely said what it had before, that the package was on the truck for delivery.

By the time I left work, I was pretty paranoid about it. When I got home, the sheets with my signatures on them were still taped to the door. I couldn’t figure out what was going on. Usually the driver isn’t that late. I began to feel heartbroken at the prospect that my computer wouldn’t arrive after all. That I’d have to wait until tomorrow…or, looking at the clock, today.

Anyway, I was still too sore to make it to my dance class like I’d planned, so I figured I’d go ahead and hang around in the hopes that the truck was still out there making the rounds and my computer would arrive and be in my arms soon enough.

For once in my life, hoping against hope proved not to be false or unwise. The computer did, indeed, arrive.

This brought on a whole new set of anxiety. I brought it in and opened it up and just stared at it and wondered: what exactly have I gotten myself into. I don’t know anything about operating a Mac.

I bucked yet another trend by remaining calm. Calm is not a normal color for me.

I pulled out the nifty little instruction booklet and started to read, following the instructions to the letter. And you know what? It was the easiest thing in the world. It basically set itself up. I just had to do some clicking. It even took my picture, which was a hoot.

And now I’m blowing and going…as my dad would say. My dad would not, however, buy a Mac, so perhaps I shouldn’t quote him just now. I even managed to set up file sharing on my old PC so that I could start transferring my files and stuff over. I know, it’s pretty impressive, isn’t it? Well, I impressed myself, at any rate. I’d never done that before, so the fact that I managed to with relative ease makes me more than a little proud of myself.

I know it’s only been a couple of hours, but I think I’m in love. I would marry this thing if that were, you know, possible. And seeing as how I’m not likely to get any better offers on that front, I’m starting to wish it were, even if it meant we would have to adopt.

So, obviously I’m starting to get a little punchy, and I really should get to bed. But I wanted to share my joy with the world…or at least with my blog and the two people who still read it. So, mostly with myself.

Okay, okay, I’m going now, I promise.

Thoughts of Absolutely No Consequence

There’s this engineering firm on my daily drive to and from work.

As an aside, I wonder where it got started that only businesses consisting of groups of licensed professionals would be called firms. Accounting firms. Law firms. Engineering firms. Not that I begrudge them their own designation. It’s hard work to become licensed. I’m mainly (and merely) curious. I guess those aren’t the only contexts in which you hear it. It seems like it might extend to advertising, which, as far as I’m aware, doesn’t require licensing by the state in order to practice it. But I think the larger point holds: you don’t often hear of a firm dance teachers or seamstresses or dry cleaners. Then again, you don’t hear about firms of doctors either, so really, I guess I have no point at all.

As another aside, my ex is an engineer and he used to lament the fact that there was no television show based around engineers. I told him he should come up with a concept and write a pilot for it. While I was thinking about this post on the way home, I came up with a title. The (Engineering) Firm. Catchy, no? Are you with me? You know, it’s clever, a way to play up on The Firm but also to show it’s not going to take itself seriously. Because, really, how could it? The design for it could say “The Firm” in some serious looking font and then written over it, like an edit, could be an insert mark (what are those called?) with the word “engineering” written out in a geeky scrawl.

Okay, so it’s terrible. So sue me. Titles never have been my strong suit. Just look at virtually every title to ever blog post I’ve ever written. Besides, we’re not together anymore, so title rights are no longer in my purview anyway. It only popped into my head because I was thinking about engineering.

But I (majorly) digress. I wonder if it can even be considered a digression if the digression is longer than the original thought. Does the original thought then become a digression?

So…anyway…there’s this engineering firm on my daily drive to and from work. And they have these company (firm?) cars and trucks and SUVs that are white with the name of the firm on the side.

Another quick aside: why do businesses almost universally have company cars and trucks that are white? No meandering thoughts here, just something to ponder on the drive home.

So, one of these company cars for this firm is a Toyota. I’m not sure of the model. It looks almost like an updated station wagon. You know, kind of boxy toward the back, but more rounded. If I see it again, I’ll have to pay more attention. I’m sure I will, too, since that was the entire point of this post. I’ve seen this car every day this week. The past three mornings I’ve seen it on my drive to work, and today I even saw it on my way home.

I know next to nothing about cars, mind you, so the only way I can be sure it’s the same car is that it must have been in some kind of accident because it’s all dented up on the side.

You may be wondering, now that you’ve read this far, just what exactly the point is. Well, I’m not going to tell you. I’ll only say this: you really should know better by now.

Science Tries To Side-Step Controversy