The End of 2007

I'll talk about the holidays some other time, but now I'm in the empty student center at Vassar, checking up on things. The guy a few kiosks behind me has been playing Morphine out loud for the past 15 minutes, and I'm really tempted to turn around and request "Whisper".


Happy New Year.

Jesus H. Christ, Hollywood...

They know what causes babies now, y'know. And it's not something in the water.

Why we have more fun when we're young:

LOVE (imagine that it's flashing; hell, throw in some jazz hands, too) is much more entertaining than actual settled-down-wouldn't-trade-grow-old-together love.

Think about it.

Hypocrisy and Comfort Levels

At work:

So, I walk around the corner, headed to the bathroom, and over in the corner is a girl laying stretched on the floor next to her laptop, which is playing (out loud, no headphones) what sounds like Carrie Underwood. I keep walking, mentally shaking my head and thinking "Geez, what does she think this is, her living room?" and am forced to remind myself that I'm on the way to the bathroom in order to brush my teeth.

Always the best

I stay in reasonably close contact with a friend that I worked with at Buffalo's Cafe, during my (original) college days. Today, we're chatting online when he receives a phone call from another former Buffalo's employee. She called to tell him that another co-worker of ours had died two months ago in a housefire.

Man. I don't even know what to say about that. I remember her so well. She was, first of all, a gorgeous girl. She was also sweet, sassy, and smart, and one of the hardest workers I've ever known. We called her "The Machine".

She was one of the good ones, y'know? It's so weird how things like this happen, not only to good people, but seemingly to a small group of individuals; for example, college students who worked at Buffalo's during the late 90s. We lost another coworker several years ago to a drunk driver, and just this past year another individual who was a regular musician at Buffalo's died suddenly from cancer.

I guess sometimes we need a reminder that life and death are inescapable and without judgement.

Bibliomania

"I have been asked to write a foreword to this bibliography, a work whose good fortune I truly desire, but the nature of whose value or interest to anybody I do not understand. As for myself, I am a collector of sea-shells. I live in the strong though ebbing hope of finding someday on a briefly uncovered sand-bar a right-handed Left-Handed Whelk; or even, someday, after propitious foul weather, of digging out of the beach under the jealous eyes of hundreds who dare not quite attack me and wrest it from me, a perfect Junonia. The very thought of the words "Conus gloria-maris, Hwass" fills me with an ecstasy of longing and despair. But the sight of the words "matchless copy of Hookes' Amanda, with both blank leaves G5 and H" leaves me unaffected. However, as I said, to this bibliography, and to its compiler and to its readers, I wish good fortune. As a maniac in one department, I salute the maniacs in another: may sweet Insanity forever charm our days."

-Edna St.Vincent Millay, foreword to A Bibliography of the Works of ESVM by Karl Yost

The Little Engine that Couldn't

If you know me at all, you're probably aware that I am fiercely competitive, and that I hate to be seen as weak. As much as I might try to believe that women can do anything men can, sometimes, it must be admitted that it's simply not true. Particularly if one is a moderately short woman.

This move has been an interesting experiment in being honest with myself and saying "Face it, Sam. You can't pick up that box and carry it to the car." I'll probably find some other physical activity with which to destroy my body, but I'm proud of myself for acknowledging my limitations. It still sucks that I can't just move everything myself, but what are you going to do? Sometimes it has to be all about the little victories, no?

Hobbies?

This weekend we went to a birthday tea party for a very cool friend of mine. We passed an enjoyable afternoon nibbling on pastries and drinking copious amounts of tea whilst chatting away with said friend and her (equally cool) friends. Now, when I call my friend "cool", I mean it. She's a special collections cataloger, she used to fence, she dabbles heavily in costumery, sewing, cooking, belly dancing...she does a lot. She always has some kind of project going. Her friends would seem to be equally inclined, and at some point in the conversation, we're asked "So, what do you do when you're not being librarians?" And suddenly, I feel intimidated. What are my hobbies??

Fencing, admittedly, can be a pretty all-encompassing hobby. But what do I do if I'm not fencing? Singing, too, can take up a lot of one's time, but I'm not doing that these days. What else? I like doing the crossword in the morning. I spend way too much time on the Internet. I like the usual reading, listening to music, and watching movies, but would I call any of those a hobby? Not particularly. I used to do cross-stitch when I was younger. I can sometimes be counted on to go to the gym regularly. I really like hanging out with my husband. Occasionally we go roller-blading.

So, let's say that, beyond fencing, I don't really have any hobbies. Seeing as I really only fence maybe once or twice a week, what on earth is it that I spend the rest of my time doing? I have no idea. I don't even watch that much television. Must be the Internet.

The natural progression here is to say "Well then, get yourself a hobby!" quickly followed by "What are you interested in? What would you like to do?"

...
...
...

No effing clue. If I look at myself hard in the mirror, I realize that I am not a particularly creative person. Sure, I've tried art and writing and dance, and I'm so-so at all of them, but if I try to think of something I'd actually like to do with my time, none of those jump out at me. Sewing, etc. seems cool sometimes, mostly because in the library world it seems a lot of people go in for that kind of thing. I've been there, done that on the music front, although I'd like to make an honest try of learning to play those tin whistles I've got lying around.

I find myself leaning toward the physical. I'd like to roller-blade more. I could always fence more. One of my best friends (another highly multi-faceted and hobby-laden individual) is now firmly ensconced in the world of roller derby, and man! that looks fun. Ballroom dancing looks interesting, although I think I require some form of outside motivation, and I'm not really sure competitive ballroom fits the bill for me. I'd like to take yoga or Pilates classes, too.

So, there's a few things I could come up with. The problem then becomes being disciplined enough to do them. Plus, with a lot of the physical pastimes, there's an issue of money. In order to do things right, you need teachers and coaches, and in the case of fencing equipment and tournaments (or at least I do - again, the competitive thing).

The ultimate question, then, is "Am I just being lazy?" Lots of hobbies cost money. Sewing costs money to buy materials, etc. My friends with lots of hobbies are no less busy and no more monied than I, yet they find the time and the means to do all the things they do. So what's my problem? Is there some fabulous hobby somewhere that I've not thought of that I should be tapping into? Or should I just become one of the television-happy masses?

Seriously, if anyone's paying attention, I'd love to hear suggestions. Seeing as I'm about to move across the country and spend the next 6 months without my husband or a computer at home, I might as well try some new stuff, no?

PS - In reading back over this post, I think that the issue of "motivation" is a big factor for me. I'd want to do something with my hobby, if you get my meaning. With fencing, I've traveled a fair bit and won a few medals here and there, and that seems to be enough, so it's not major motivation, but there does have to be some. Guess that's something to think about.

American Gangster

The dilemma: I love Russell Crowe. I hate gangster movies. What do I do?

Positive reviews all over the place, even in the LA Times! Russell gets bad press from E!Online gossip columnists who want to maintain his poopy-pants image! Oscar buzz is rampant! He does the press dance, adorably imitating his son Charlie on Leno! And the crowning insult: American Gangster is up against Bee Movie for the weekend box office crown. As much as I love Russell Crowe, I loathe Jerry Seinfeld.

...But I really don't like gangster movies. I actually kind of actively dislike gangster movies. It's not like "Eh, I'm not feelin' it", it's more "Ugh, power-lusting men with guns. Pass."

Stay tuned for the resolution. We really might have to go see it, if only to do my part to keep Seinfeld from taking the box office.

Sigh.

Out of the Deep End

I'm sure it's occurred to me before now, but I really thought about it last night: I haven't lived in that many different parts of the US, but I've traveled a fair bit, and this place easily has the most advertisements for cosmetic surgery ... and by "easily the most" I mean there are tons. Ugh.

Entertainment

This weekend we (along with my brother and a good friend) had the distinct pleasure of seeing the Royal Shakespeare Company's staging of King Lear, starring Ian McKellen.
While there are always things to be nit-picky about, staging or someone's delivery for example, overall I found the play absolutely riveting. We of course wanted to see Sir Ian onstage. The appearance of Sylvester McCoy, a former Dr. Who, as the Fool was also exciting. But really, it made me realize that it's been quite some time (indeed, I can't remember the last) since I've seen real, honest-to-god theatre. McKellen and the actor playing Edgar, in particular, were really quite phenomenal and disappeared into their characters. I felt so sorry for Lear.

It being Los Angeles, we had a pretty exciting celeb encounter: Tom Hanks, his wife Rita Wilson, and two of their sons (I think they have more) were in the audience for the Saturday matinee. As a testament to McKellen's acting, at some point my brother said "You know, it's pretty impressive, really. 'Cause, you know, (pointing) that's Tom Hanks over there, but (pointing to the stage) that is not really Ian McKellen, is it?"

Indeed.

ABC, are you watching?

That's Jonathan Papelbon, the Red Sox's scary-ass closer, celebrating their Division win. Supposedly he's quoted as saying "Next stop, Dancing with the Stars". Dude. DWTS needs a baseball player; they haven't had one yet. Plus, once you stop laughing, recognize that the boy can actually dance. And finally, look at him in his skivvies. Boy is ripped. He would look good in a tux, is all I'm sayin'.

Fascination

I really want to know about John Linnell's college career, but no-one seems to know anything. Alas.

Apocalypse?

Thought #1: I absolutely refuse to believe that Britney Spears might actually have semi-decent taste in literature.
Thought #2: Wait a minute. She can read?

Take that, LA Times!

This morning I finished my second Friday crossword ever. That sucker's hard. Soon I'll be graduating to the NY Times. Go me.

Double Standards

I've only been meaning to post about this for a couple of months now. Somehow, the time was never right, so I've just decided to go for it.

I would not describe myself as a feminist. For the most part, I think feminism, by the usual definition, goes overboard. I like to think of all people as equal, and I'd like to be treated as such. I think that, too often, special interest groups move past equality and get a little too wrapped up in the "special". So, whereas I am a reasonably liberated female member of the species, I try to treat everyone in the same manner, and I try to maintain a sense of humor about expressions in our society that others tend to see as sexist, racist, or whatever.

However. I do have a problem when it comes to the double standards that are rampant in our society with regards to things like gender/race relations. To wit, the treatment and expression of men in ways that, if applied to women, would most likely bring outcry and potential bodily harm to the expressor. For example: I have seen, in the past few months, the following two t-shirts on young ladies. One was on her way to class, the other was grocery shopping, with a male companion.

Exhibit A: He's Just an Accessory
Exhibit B: Boyfriends Make Good Pets

Whoa, dude. Seriously, if a man had on a shirt that said "Girlfriends Make Good Pets", he would be lynched. Let's not even consider the ramifications of what would happen if the subject of that fashion statement was somehow racially charged. And how is that fair? Maybe the normal male would not be offended by such a statement, but seriously, I'm kind of offended for him. I think it's vile to say anything about "making a good pet" about another human being. If you know me at all, you know how much I love my cats, but they still do not take the place of my husband or my family members. And the "accessory" statement goes even further, relegating a human being to the same importance as an inanimate object!

I guess the bottom line for me is that I'd be willing to bet that either of those young ladies would consider themselves reasonably liberated, at least in terms of having their own life, not being dependent on a male, planning or having a career of their own, etc. Maybe they even think that their choice of fashion statement is in some way liberated. But really, those statements are still a part of the problem. Yes, men and women are different. But we're all here on this earth and in this society together, and we do deserve to be treated equally, at least in terms of showing respect for a fellow human being. You know, as opposed to pets and accessories.

We can't be silent

They Might Be Giants played "She's an Angel" for me (just for me, unless you can prove otherwise) Friday night during their show at the House of Blues in Anaheim. A zillion thanks to Mr. Kasper for getting us off our butts and out to the show. It was totally awesome. Plus, I have an adorable new t-shirt! We like Hammurabi best, with his emo haircut...

Edit: Check the video!! The Mesopotamians

Shattered Youth

The book I'm reading right now is entitled The Story of Britain: from the Romans to the Present: A Narrative History. So far it's really cool. It's history, but it reads fairly well. Not too sleep-inducing. Anyway, last night I just got through King John, and I'll be moving on to the Plantagenet kings next. Of the chapters I read last night, it's the last two I want to talk about: Richard the Lionheart and John. I also want to talk about Disney.

Now then. I'm not going to pretend to be astonished to learn that the bulk of Disney movies/stories, particularly if based on actual historical events, are very much historically inaccurate. This does not come as a shock. Still. I have to admit to being a little bummed out last night, in reading about the sons of Henry II, to learn that my absolute favorite Disney classic, Robin Hood, is really quite a historical mess. There's very little mention of Robin Hood himself in The Story of Britain, which is fine. He is mentioned, however, in conjunction with Prince John, as a means of demonstrating the historical characterization of John as the snivelling, money-hungry, bad-guy younger brother of the fabulous Coeur de Lion. This is not to say that he was a saint. He wasn't that great a king, really. But here's the shocking part: neither was Richard. Let's look at this through the lens of Robin Hood, shall we?

First of all, I was interested to learn that the concept of an English sheriff originated from the Anglo-Saxon times, died out for a bit after the Norman invasion, and was re-instated (I think) by Henry II. Moving on, though. Robin Hood tells us that the noble and glorious King Richard is on Crusade and that evil Prince John has taken over the throne, where he delights in taxing the heart and soul out of the good people of Nottingham, correct? Peripherally, the implication is that the Queen Mother, Eleanor of Acquitaine, is not in the picture, and that John was a mama's boy. I always got the impression that Eleanor was already dead during the action of the cartoon. Ready for the "historically inaccurate" part? Here goes.

Richard was indeed on Crusade, but John did not "take over the throne". He was given jurisdiction (by Richard) over some parts of England and France. He did become King after Richard's death, but that's neither here nor there. Richard was on Crusade for a while, and then on the way home he was captured and held for ransom by European enemies. All that taxation? It was actually Richard who introduced exorbitant taxes during the period in order to pay for his Crusade. The taxation continued, egged on by Eleanor in order to pay Richard's ransom. Eleanor was not only still around, she actually outlived her son Richard. And while the book doesn't make any mention of John's relationship with his mother, there's quite a bit of history to tell us that John was his father's favorite to the point where Henry II actually tried to take lands and money away from his other sons to give to John. Being the youngest, John had no inheritance for himself.

The truth is that neither Richard nor John was the King their father was; they were just different. Richard was hardly ever IN England, being off on Crusade or worrying about his French lands and scrapping with the French king. John was actually very present and involved in his kingdom even at a local level, but he was greedy and a bit tyrannical a la the Disney version.

Again, it's not a revelation that a Disney cartoon, intended for kids, is not the way to learn one's history. I guess what struck me was just that this was my favorite Disney movie. I still watch it every couple of months. Prior to last night, it was pretty much everything I knew about that particular bit of British history. And as a kid, certainly, it never occurs to you that it's not accurate; I guess some things hold over into adulthood. Prince John was evil, King Richard was good, Robin Hood was a hero, and so on. Sure, it's just a movie, and a kid's one at that. As an adult, I do know that things are rarely so black-and-white, and that movies of a certain type are made to entertain rather than teach. I guess I'm just a little sad that one of my favorite parts of childhood has been clouded a bit by shades of grey, and that I will probably never look at it in quite the same way again.

Note to self:

The reason that college girl looks so effing tiny to you is that she is probably 18, which makes her 14 years younger than you, and not necessarily that she has a better body/is anorexic/eats healthfully/works out all day.

Revelation.

Rage

I just saw the following t-shirt on an obese individual at the grocery store:

This working out thing isn't working out.

Ha ha fucking ha.