Hayley sent me the second season of Lost on DVD, and it has, as she suggested, kept me out of trouble so far. I love the commentaries.
Caroline gifted me with a giant wrist brace. It's kind of perfect for my purposes. It immobilises my thumb, but the rest of my fingers are free and clear. Writing with a pen or pencil is still mostly impossible, but typing is significantly easier.
Page-turning is still a pain.
28 February 2008
presents
26 February 2008
this is how I convalesce
I probably should've stayed home again, but one never likes to use sick days when one is actually sick. Where's the fun in that?
Typing is still an issue, but at the moment I'm managing to stabilise my thumb while maintaining the use of most of my four fingers. And of course it's my right hand, because I have to inconvenience myself as much as possible.
How did I do this?
Snowboarding. Naturally.
I was doing so well for the first three hours that I was emboldened to press my luck on a green trail (which isn't a black diamond, but I still wasn't really ready for it--clearly). I had a few initial falls--and in one of them sprained my thumb, which I didn't notice until something worse happened.
Then, continuing down the hill, a woman and her son began to veer in front of me. I tried to avoid them, and I did it so well that I fucked myself up instead. The front edge caught on the snow and down I went, face-plant against the hill.
Immediate headache. I could taste blood before I saw it, and then I thought it was coming from my nose. But the woman had turned around and was saying, "No, no, it's your head!" Great. She handed me lots of tissues and asked me a few pointed questions to make sure that I still had all my wits, then flagged down one of the ski patrol--who asked me all the same questions all over again. The woman had me describe my friends, since Lindsay and her friend Matt weren't far off, and she went to find them while her large Irish friend and the ski patrol man stayed with me to wait for more ski patrol people to arrive.
Lindsay and Matt trudged back up the hill to find out what had happened, and more patrol people came around.
And then one of the patrol-- "Do you think you can go down on your own?" I don't think anyone thought that was a good idea except for him. (Lindsay, later: "Was he on crack?") Instead, they packed me into a sled, wrapped up in yellow canvas like a mummy and shuttled me down the hill to the infirmary.
Those things look fun until you actually need them, by the way. Then, they're deeply embarrassing.
The EMS workers re-bandaged me (they'd done a make-shift job of it on the hill), and advised that I go to the ER. So Lindsay and Matt went to get stuff from the lockers while I sat around with a plastic bag of snow pressed to my head. Then we walked to Lindsay's car, but somewhere between the EMT station and the parking space, Lindsay's car key went missing. Awesome, right?
Lindsay was carrying all my stuff and didn't look very keen to go back looking, so I volunteered and went off. I retraced our steps back to the infirmary, but didn't find them, so I walked into the Lost & Found. L&F woman: "What happened to you?!" Me: "I fell, and I'm supposed to go to the ER, but my friend can't find her keys." But no keys had been turned in yet for the day, so I wandered back outside ... with the L&F woman following me, though I didn't know it yet. And Lindsay had come back from the parking lot and was standing in the path between the EMT station building and the Lost & Found looking for me and the keys.
I was dazed and upset and embarrassed, so pulled down my sunglasses and dragged my hood over my head. And Lindsay was turning to go back into the infirmary when the L&F woman appeared behind us and was asking if she should take me to the ER instead. And we must have been making a scene, because one of the Cliff Bar employees (who were skiing all over the hill offering free samples to whoever would take one) came over and asked what we were looking for--if it was a black key on a short leather strap, because he had found one and only just turned it in at Lost & Found.
Awesome. Hysteria averted.
North Conway's Memorial Hospital is five minutes down the road from Cranmore, so it didn't take long to get there--good, considering how long the line in the waiting room was. We got there at 1300 and we wouldn't leave until around 1830.
The wait was long, but the staff was nice. A nurse gave me a fresh pack of ice for my head, and Lindsay and I sat in the waiting room playing the name game (pick a letter of the alphabet and either gender and recite as many names as you can think of that begin with that letter)--dull but distracting. And I needed distracting since the headache wouldn't let up for a minute.
When they finally let me through it was about 1645, and it was to a reclining chair next to the utility closet in a room already occupied by two other patients. We didn't know how long I'd be sitting there, so Lindsay went to Walmart to pick up Scategories, but not before I sent her to the car to retrieve Dragonfly In Amber for me.
I was reading and one of the nurses came to check on me. I told her about my headache and she asked if I would take anything for it. I was afraid of the blood-thinning aspect, but she assured me that what they had would be all right. Then, she went off.
My back was to the door, when, out of the corner of my left eye I saw crutches edge up beside me. This was my doctor. She introduced herself and had me peel back the edge of the bandage on my head to see what she was dealing with. Yes to stitches and yes to a CAT scan. She asked if anything else was bothering me, and I told her about my hand, which hadn't been bothering me until I attempted to sign my signature on the admittance papers in the waiting room. Another yes to an x-ray for my hand.
Then she hobbled off and the nurse returned--with a Vicodin and some water. Vicodin? Seriously? Who watches too much House? Oh, right, I do.
I picked up my book again, but I didn't get to read much before another woman came around to take me to do the x-ray and the head scan. The x-ray was honestly the most grueling part. I hadn't eaten since breakfast, and I was shivering, so it was hard to keep my hand perfectly still when it wasn't firmly braced against the table.
The head scan ... getting all the jewelry off and out of my head took a few minutes, a sprained hand not making it much easier. And when it was over, the woman escorted me back to my room--where one of the beds had been vacated, and Lindsay had returned--as promised, with Scategories. The timer didn't come with batteries, so we played on the room clock and waited for the scans to come back from Radiology.
And on that note, can anyone think of an article of clothing that begins with the letter I? All I could come up with is "instep"--the inner part of a shoe, but I don't even think it counts.
After twenty or thirty minutes the doctor came hobbling back into the room with a clean bill of health. Stitches time. A male orderly wheeled in the cart with all the stitching supplies, and Lindsay and I were still musing over an article of clothing that might begin with an I. Neither the doctor nor the orderly could think of anything either.
It was about this time when I started feeling particularly embarrassed about the whole situation all over again--and said as much to the doctor. She told me her story was more idiotic than mine. So I finally asked her about her crutches as she was prepping me for stitches. She had been trying to reach something on a high shelf while standing on a swivel stool. The stool went one way and she the other, and her ankle folded under her.
The doctor was rubbing a local anesthetic in the laceration when Lindsay asked if she could call Nancy on my phone. I couldn't remember where I'd put the phone, only that it was on the bed somewhere and waved in that vague direction. Lindsay found it and began to mess with it as the doctor began to stitch me. Except that Lindsay couldn't find Nancy's number, nor the call history. She has the same phone I do, only hers is a first generation, and mine is relatively new.
So I took the phone back and, in the glare of the surgical lights, and with the doctor stitching my forehead, I looked through the old incoming calls, found, and dialed Nancy's number and handed the phone back off... I'm a good multi-tasker.
There were only five stitches, so it didn't take too long, and the local anesthetic was quite effective. By the time Lindsay was through talking to Nancy, the doctor had finished and was putting a bandage over the stitches. After a while the male orderly came back in and wrapped up my hand in gauze and an ace bandage. He also came with my release papers and a prescription for pain-killers--more Vicodin, yay! And then I was good to go.
15 February 2008
12 February 2008
V for ...
Stephen is my hero.
Now I just want a .gif Stephen icon that says, "I teach Sunday School, motherfucker."
Lem leads me to the fun news.
Anonymous vs. Scientology
07 February 2008
"We can't stop here--"
I was considering the tagline for the 1971 version of Willard, and I'm thinking it's good that Romney goes by Mitt instead.
"Where your nightmares end... WILLARD begins. [P.S. Vote Romney 2008!]"
Yeah.
...
No.
Does Mitt have a crazy friend named Ben, because that would also be awesome. Ooh! Wait! What was the name of his campaign helper who posed as a policeman?
Darn. His name is Jay.
Oh, well. We'll work with it.
11 January 2008
books and movies -- lists
Begun: 11. January 2008
Last update: 30. May 2008
Listing new books read:
Books
01. Inkheart by Cornelia Funke
02. Fables: Wolves by Bill Willingham
03. The Magic Toyshop by Angela Carter
04. The Ape Who Guards the Balance by Elizabeth Peters
05. Lady of the Forest by Jennifer Roberson
06. Watership Down by Richard Adams
07. The Hound of the Baskervilles by Arthur Conan Doyle
08. Morality Play by Barry Unsworth
09. Finder by Emma Bull
10. Long Hot Summoning by Tanya Huff
11. Dragonfly In Amber by Diana Gabaldon
12. The Colour of Magic by Terry Pratchett
13. The Light Fantastic by Terry Pratchett
14. Equal Rites by Terry Pratchett
15. Mort by Terry Pratchett
16. Darkly Dreaming Dexter by Jeff Lindsay
17. Dearly Devoted Dexter by Jeff Lindsay
18. Dead Sexy (Garnet Lacey, Book 2) by Tate Hallaway
19. From Dead to Worse by Charlaine Harris
20. Twilight (The Twilight Saga, Book 1) by Stephenie Meyer
21. The Good Fairies of New York by Martin Millar
currently reading: Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
09 January 2008
cold pool
Of intimacy ...
Intimacy is a cold swimming pool. I dread it, and there's no comfortable way to ease into it. Either you dive in and get it over with, or you stand there and dread the cold. And getting out of it is just as bad. And sometimes you get swimmer's ear.
Intimacy and swimming pools.
I am more me
Type summary here.
Everyone's doing this: Belief-o-Matic
1. Unitarian Universalism (100%)
2. Neo-Paganism (99%)
3. Secular Humanism (80%)
4. New Age-ism (79%)
5. Liberal Quakerism (75%)
6. Mahayana Buddhism (74%)
7. Theravada Buddhism (70%)
8. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestantism (62%)
9. Reform Judaism (60%)
10. New Thought (55%)
11. Scientology (53%)
12. Hinduism (52%)
13. Nontheism (49%)
14. Taoism (46%)
15. Sikhism (45%)
16. Jainism (44%)
17. Orthodox Quakerism (41%)
18. Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (40%)
19. Bahá'í Faith (38%)
20. Orthodox Judaism (23%)
21. Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormonism) (21%)
22. Islam (20%)
23. Mainline to Conservative Christianity/Protestantism (14%)
24. Seventh Day Adventism (14%)
25. Jehovah's Witness (12%)
26. Eastern Orthodox (11%)
27. Roman Catholicism (11%)
I thought Secular Humanism would be at the top of the list, but my ambivalence involving the notion of deity is probably revealed by my answers to a lot of the multi-check questions.
Unitarian Universalism -- The United Church of *Shrug*
As for the Quakers bit ... Yeah, I'm not sure. It was probably the fact that on the "good deeds and compassion" question, I rated my answer as "high." But, on a second round there are other answers I would've listed as "high" that I didn't. Oh, well. I can always re-take the silly thing.
[edit: Re-taken, with no great changes, really. Secular Humanism, New Age, and Liberal Quakers have played musical chairs a bit. Roman Catholicism is still last, in spite of--or maybe because of--its being my introduction to world religion. I also altered the titles, because they were bothering me; some of them are still bothering me. Faiths deserve nouns--not adjectives being treated as nouns.]
02 January 2008
right of way?
30. December 2007
Dead of night, empty road, Raleigh, NC. Company: Me, H, B, and J. I start crossing the street.
J: "Push the button, Ri!"
No, I'm pretty sick of you already, and I'm not going to listen to you now.
Me: "Why should I? No one is coming."
J: "Because you're jay-walking..."
Hi, I'm from a real city. We jay-walk all the time. It's not a felony. It's not even a misdemeanor. It might the most minor traffic violation anyone can commit. And it's a moot point when there's no on-coming traffic.
Me: "No one is coming, and I do this all the time."
J: "You can get a ticket for that here."
H: "She's from Boston."
J: "Well, here you wait for traffic."
Of which there is none. There aren't any cops either to hand out this hypothetical ticket. Where are they? Oh, right. Looking for drunk drivers.
Me: "You do know that pedestrians have the right of way, right?"
J: "No they don't. Not here."
Me: "Umm, I'm pretty sure they do..."
In point of fact, the NC Driver's Handbook is a piece of shit when it comes to discussing what pedestrians can or can't do. It's a 150-word section in a book that spends 50% of its pages discussing the point system for revoking one's license. There's nothing about jay-walking or anything else. Basically the message one gets as a pedestrian is: Good luck! Don't get hit!
People in NC aren't encouraged to walk, apparently (as well as obviously, judging the obesity level within the state).
To read this woefully vague scrap of tripe: Driver's Handbook.
Enjoy!
22 December 2007
if at first you don't succeed
I'll be trying again tomorrow morning.
My flight's scheduled take-off is for 1130 or 1145 with an ETA of 1330 or 1400. Hopefully, it actually happens this time.
I went to see Sweeney Todd yesterday at around mid-day.
I had my doubts about the singing, but I was most pleasantly surprised. The acting talent involved were more than equal to their singing parts. Also, as
The colour scheme is typical Burton--varying gray tones with brilliant splashes of colour where they will make the most impact. What sticks out in my mind most is Sacha Baron Cohen's jewel-tone blue ensemble. As per the usual, Cohen makes a hilarious spectacle of himself.
I do have a complaint or two with where they left certain of the story arcs. Benjamin Barker and his wife Lucy have a daughter, and a ship boy falls in love with her, but we don't really see how that turns out. Without giving away more than necessary, Sweeney mistakes her for a boy and nearly kills her, and that's the last we see of her before the credits roll. I just would have been happier to see some kind of resolution there. Granted, I didn't expect any kind of happy Father-Daughter reunion between Sweeney and Johanna--Sweeney is way too far gone for him to resume any normal sort of lifestyle--but I would have like to see how the young romance between the girl and the ship boy turned out.
It's one of Tim Burton's gorier achievements, I must say. To give you an idea, it's rated R, but there's no excessive cursing or sexuality. The rating is specifically due to the violence.
After the movie, I walked down to my office to pick up my pay checks, and talked with the skeleton crew. I had to clear up my time-sheet with Zina, and we got to talking about movies. I told her that I intended to go see The Golden Compass ... Zina's response: "Oh, you don't want to see that! It's all about atheism!"
Yeah, I don't care. That really doesn't bother me.
I went to see it today. And, apart from the mouth-breathing cud-chewers sitting behind me, it was a fun time.
Also, I wouldn't really classify the movie as being "all about atheism." It really isn't. It's more anti-establishment--of all kinds, which I suppose could include religion, government, and society--than atheistic. The movie is really about the individual's capacity for free choice versus outside control over the individual's thoughts and actions; and the message of Christianity places a decent emphasis on making choices, choosing right from wrong, etc. So, I don't know, maybe I'm being naive, but I don't know what the fuss is all about.
It's an exciting, fun movie--and it uses CGI in a way that actually doesn't make me want to kill the producers (please see Zemeckis).
21 December 2007
no luck
At the suggestion of the woman who re-ticketed me yesterday evening, I called Delta this morning to see if anything sooner than Sunday had opened up.
No.
Well, they thought there was something for tomorrow at 0700, but then they realised that it was already overbooked.
So still no.
I really won't be getting out of here until Sunday. ... OK, time to go shower, dress, and T myself to the movies for the day.
Johnny Depp, Alan Rickman, and Daniel Craig will make life less crappy.
20 December 2007
angry, stuck, alone
Maybe I'll feel more like talking about it tomorrow, but I doubt it.
Suffice to say, my flight was cancelled. So I'm in Boston until Sunday at least. Frankly, I'm debating cancelling the ticket entirely and staying here for the holidays. I'm really angry right now, and I doubt I'd make good company.
So I'm not going to work tomorrow.
I'm going to the movies.
And I'm going to see The Golden Compass and Sweeney Todd, and that's how it's going to be.
a Christmas meme
Everyone else is doing it.
1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? I will say wrapping paper, though I've been known to use gift bags in a pinch. Really, if I have the time and opportunity, I will wrap every present. College and life in an apartment turned me lazy for several reasons--one, "I can't find the paper;" two, "I'm all out of scotch tape;" three, "hey, look, here's this bag I've been keeping around for no particular reason." And so it goes.
2. Real tree or artificial? Real. I understand the aggravation of prickly trees, having had a few in the past, but that's why you don't choose the prickly kind and go for a Blue Douglas or something with the short and blunt needles.
3. When do you put up the tree? It was very touch and go with my parents. Sometimes it's right after Thanksgiving. Sometimes it's the weekend before Christmas.
4. When do you take the tree down? Whenever it starts to look peaky. Mid- to late-January?
5. Do you like eggnog? Yes, and all the available flavours, too.
6. Favourite gift received as a child? My parents like to tell me that I was most excited about the 3-foot high Big Bird when I was three years old. In recent years, my Mac and my first iPod.
7. Do you have a nativity scene? My parents have a wee one that my father picked up in Germany during Weihnachten. It was made by wood craftsmen there, features dowel-people and trees with leaves made from wood shavings. It's actually very interesting. Maybe I'll take a picture when I visit.
8. Hardest person to buy for? My mom. Because the things she wants are very general, but she's very fussy about the specifics of these general items.
9. Easiest person to buy for? My friends, generally. They appreciate the notion of "wish lists."
10. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? I don't know. There have been things I wasn't wild about, but nothing noteworthy. It's corny, but it's the thought that counts.
11. Mail or email Christmas cards? I'm not one to judge. I'm HORRIBLE about casual correspondence, period.
12. Favourite Christmas Movie? Like my friend Nicole, I love Home Alone. I also love the second Home Alone, Lost in New York (mostly due to Tim Curry -- "We love you!"). Lately, I've had the urge to watch The Santa Clause, and today we were talking about it at our staff meeting (because I work with a bunch of parents, holy crap). OOH! Other favourite Christmas movie? The Ref:Mary Chasseur: Maybe they'll catch him, and then let him go in the spirit of Christmas ...
Connie Chasseur: That is not the spirit of Christmas --The spirit of Christmas is either you're good -- or you're punished and you burn in hell.
Who would catch a criminal, and then let him go free?
Mary Chasseur: Republicans?
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? December, usually. This year, I will be shopping this weekend.
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? I don't think so, and that sounds pretty gauche to me.
15. Favourite thing to eat at Christmas? Of the non-baked-good variety? Lasagna. And clam dip. Mmmmmm. Clam dip. And mashed 'taters, if they're around. I heart mashed 'taters (as the inches on my waist can attest).
16. Clear lights or coloured on the tree? Coloured. Blinking or not, it's all good. If they're blinking, though, I might stare at the tree for a long long time. Because I am easily-distracted by shinies.
17. Favourite Christmas song? "Greensleeves," which, honestly, if you read the lyrics, hasn't got much to do with Christmas. I also have a slew of records that I like to keep in rotation at my parents' house. Elvis, The Nutcracker, Rainbow Brite Christmas, Cabbage Patch Christmas, Sinatra, and the list goes on. Mostly, I become addicted to The Nutcracker, though. ... And not just any rendition of The Nutcracker, either. It has to be this version:
18. Stay home or travel for Christmas? Traveling to my parents' home.
19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer? You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen; Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen, but do you recall the most famous reindeer of all? Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer ... etc. So, yes.
20. Angel on the tree top or a star? We have both. It looks dumb.
21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? One the night before. The rest in the morning.
22. Most annoying thing about this time of year? People. Everywhere.
Yay for wasting time.
19 December 2007
saved by the UK
I love Hot Chip. Or maybe I just love Hot Chip's "Over & Over" ... YES.
I've loved this song since, oh, last Fall. And I still love it. I can hear it every day and it makes me happy. Kind of like The Automatic's "Monster."
Both songs make me think of Torchwood, which is maybe a good portion of the happiness--and, right now especially, the antici- ... -pation (who loves Rocky Horror? oh, right--I do). The new Torchwood season begins next month, and the Doctor Who Christmas special is right around the corner.
Hey, we all need things to look forward to. Me, I look forward to new David Tennant and John Barrowman fixes from the BBC during Hollywood's woeful dry spell. (PAY THE WRITERS NOW, PLEASE. KTHXBYE.)
What else is on my mind this morning? Politics.
Television and politics--well, it works for Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert.
Mostly, I'm just a little irritated by a web site that I was invited to look at. They're polling the public for the 2008 Presidential race, but they've excluded Ron Paul from the polls, and make a big [highly animated] point of letting everyone know this up front. It's not that I even like Ron Paul. I'm not going to be voting for him, because I think he's an idiot. At this point, I'm so disgusted with all of them, I might do a write-in (that won't be counted, because individual votes don't really count for beans in the US Presidential race, if we're really being honest about it).
But I think the owner of the site is a bigger idiot for excluding Paul. If you're really interested in clean poll results, you won't exclude any candidate, no matter how much you dislike him or his followers. If you're not interested in clean poll results, why take the time to create a web site devoted just to the poll? Isn't it a waste of time and energy for something that doesn't really matter to you?
OK. End irritable ramble.
18 December 2007
more feelings of life reflecting literature
FORD: You’re a load of useless, bloody loonies!!
CAPTAIN: Ah, yes, that was it, that was the reason it was. Ha. Pass me the loofah, will you?
This is the kind of clarity that feels like clarity now (when I've had a few), and tomorrow will read like nonsense.
Most people who live in the United States of America don't know how very hard it is to leave. And I think this is because they don't even consider the possibility of life beyond the ocean. The world is flat. It starts in Los Angeles and ends in New York (or what have you). You might go to Hawaii or [gasp] Europe for vacation, but the concept of moving there permanently is far beyond the realm of imagination for 99% of the people who "make it" here.
I think Douglas Adams was referring to the States when he writes of the spaceship heading for a new planet because the old one is "doomed." All the "important" people need to go ahead to set up life for the ones "left behind," but the reality of the matter is that the "important" people are the most useless and idiotic of the originals. They're not being sent to colonize the new planet for future travelers. They're shot there with no hope of return or rescue.
That's the United States. Your ancestors felt like bloody geniuses for "making it" here, so important and free, and so you might vicariously feel that pride because you don't know any better. But you're trapped in the most back-ass-ward nation in the "free" world (where we preach separation of church and state but politicians still feel the need to mention G-d every chance they get), and nobody wants you back either. So you're stuck here, and it's fine if you don't realise it. But it's really depressing for those of us who wish for nothing more for Christmas than to be welcomed into the European Union. To escape ...
Dear Santa, ...
would-be presents
I kind of wish that I'd thought of doing nuigurumi gifts for Christmas.
Before last night. Because that's when I finally thought of it. You know, eight days before Christmas.
I fail.
I should have thought of it when Andrea mentioned drawing pictures for people for Christmas. But I'm a feather-brain, apparently.
And then I was looking at chibi-Strife last night, and thought, Ooh, I could make ... But it's more than a little late for that idea.
So far, I fail in general at Christmas shopping this year. I keep hearing about money influencing shoppers this season; but, for me, it has more to do with being a fuss-pot and hating everything I see. Or loving something for myself, but not being able to imagine the same level of elation in my would-be recipients.
John and Rodney already received their Lush presents. I gave Michelle her Tealuxe set at the same time I gave the boys their bath stuff.
As for the parents, so far, Dad has a Red Sox ornament, and they're both getting a couple boxes of jewel-toned ornaments (not particularly for either of them, so I'll probably just label it, "Parents" or some more inventive title that strikes me later). I visited three department stores in search of decent pajamas for Mum, but no luck. Is there any wonder that people have forsaken foot-shopping for Amazon?
Oh, and on the subject of wrapping ... I'm not wrapping anything until I get to Durham, just on the off-chance that airport security decides to tear open my suitcase. Because the last thing I need is to have them freak out, rip open carefully-wrapped presents, and then discover that mess upon reaching Durham. Honestly, I'm already worried enough about transporting glass ornaments without the added stress of: "Will they or won't they feel the need to unwrap?"
Flying out of here in little more than two days, and I still haven't packed. Excellent.
17 December 2007
in response to: another American psycho
Names changed to protect the innocent decent (because nobody's really innocent, if we're being honest, but I consider my readership to be a decent sort).
The last entry was cross-posted to Book of the Black Rabbit.
This comment from a reader followed:
If done at all it should be done well.
Get in; save lots; get out.
Write the book afterwards (unless you get published first).
To which I replied:
Which makes me think of a few choice lines of Metric's "Handshakes":
Buy this car to drive to work,
Drive to work to pay for this car ...
Say you wanna get in,
And you're gonna get out;
But you won't,
'Cause it's a trap.
I think I might fear all manner of [traditionally reasonable] commitment.
another American psycho
There are certain aspects of job hunting that make me [better] appreciate Bret Easton Ellis's vision of the American business world.
Let's take business cards for example, because I've been receiving a lot of them lately (and [VERY] briefly have considered investing in my own). If people allow themselves, they will go insane over the layout and presentation of business cards; but, when it comes down to it, most business cards are basically the same.
I think the best representation of this was seen the film version of American Psycho. You can't truly appreciate the insanity of the description of business cards in the novel (well, you can, if you're thinking the way Ellis is thinking), but when you hear the painstaking detail in the film, and then see the after-product--two or three business cards that basically look the same--and the overwhelming surge of furious envy that Bateman exudes upon being [somehow, and frankly, invisibly] outdone by one of his "friends," you begin to understand the unspoken and absurd competition.
Yes, nihilism is gripping me. And I begin to ask myself, Should I really be trying to enter this world, when I clearly hold it in so much disdain? Granted, I'm not trying to find work in Manhattan--but it's all so much the same, isn't it?
14 December 2007
end of a line
For early clarification, Whitey is a cat, not a derogatory reference to anyone or anything.
My father writes:
Whitey’s been awfully sick. He can hardly stand, and his head is wobbling rhythmically back and forth like he has lost his equilibrium. It may be a cold or flu, or it may worse. All I know is, Wednesday night he didn’t struggle when I picked him up to bring him into the garage. Last night and this morning, he is still a little wobbly, but he is back to being touchy. That might be a good sign.
It worries me, though, because this description reminds me of what happened to Rocky right before she died. And that, too, was around the yuletide. I don't know how well I can deal with going home to that situation again.
And Whitey is the end of a line of cats that began with the initial adoption of a calico kitten in 1987 or 1988. Puff had Moppet (f), Rascal (m), Rocky (f), and Yellow Stone (f). And, much to our surprise, after being fixed, Moppet had Smoky (m) and Whitey (m).
Puff died and Moppet and Rascal vanished in Pennsylvania. When we moved to NC, Yellow Stone and Smoky vanished (maybe lost, maybe taken). They were all outdoor cats, so it wasn't impossible that they'd decided to move on, or that somebody else had decided they wanted to keep them.
That left Rocky and Whitey.
Rocky died while I was visiting my folks, on winter break from BU. And now Whitey is our little old man.
I don't know. I always thought of Whitey and Smoky as the young ones, but ... he's pretty old now. Sixteen or seventeen, I think. I feel bad for my parents though. I only hear or read about his condition; they have to watch him slowly fall apart.
It's a day for spiked hot chocolate.
12 December 2007
sequel
I didn't think much of the casting decision before, but I'm starting to get the choice of Heath Ledger in the role of the Joker for the next Batman.
Mostly due to this picture:
Yeah, I'll give it to him. He's scary just sitting there.
My only current dissatisfaction comes from the fact that the so-called trailer for The Dark Knight is nothing more than special-effects tearing up the CGI logo with a voice-over of Christian Bale, Michael Caine, and--very briefly--Heath Ledger.
I guess I was really hoping for something beyond a teaser trailer. Oh, well. Soon enough, right?
I still haven't seen The Golden Compass, but I was calculating what I want to spend on remaining Christmas presents (and postage), and decided to hold off on going to the cinema until I go home. And then I have a list ... which is another good reason to not tell my parents what I want; because, then, they can just take me to see movies, and that can be my Christmas present.
Actually, even my movie list isn't much of a list. The Golden Compass, Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, and maybe I Am Legend (but maybe not on that one ... we'll see).
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