Category Archives: myself

SIFF 2015: Day One

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I started this year’s festival much like last year’s festival, with a French film starring Guillaume Gouix. Only this year, the film was The Connection, and it was not very funny nor whimsical. The main stars are Jean Dujardin as a magistrate fighting the heroin trade in 1970s Marseille, and Gilles Lellouche as the heroin trader. It is loosely based on a true story. Other than the pleasant surprise that Benoît Magimel played one of the gangsters, the story of the film was fairly predictable. I like Dujardin, but unfortunately, or maybe this was on purpose, he and Lellouche are very similar in appearance. I wasn’t the only one in the theatre who at times asked myself, “now which one is that?”

This year, I will be applying the Bechdel Test to all the films I see in the festival. To pass the test, a film  must have at least two named female characters who talk to each other about something other than a man. Someone is keeping a list here.

The Connection‘s Bechdel Rating: FAIL. Not surprising for a film set in the disco era, in France, there are hardly any women in it, much less talking to each other, or talking at all.

A Whole New Turn Which is More or Less the Same

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I’ve moved my blog this weekend. It was a somewhat arduous process, helped in large part by hyakkotai. It has forced me to revisit these pages and gain inspiration to continue on this written journey. Perhaps my efforts will go unnoticed by other humans, but I will not let that deter me.

More musings, rants, general nonsense, and prose coming soon. Stay tuned!

Butterfly Affectation

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Recently I met someone who made an impression on me. Something about him struck me, and I listened to his story, strange that it was. I wondered if what he was telling me was true, and at the same time also knew there were things he was keeping hidden. Eventually it came out that he needed a place to stay for the night, and I considered granting it. In the end, I guess you could say I chickened out (my mother is probably thankful for that) and sent him out into the night without anything to make his way any easier. What could I have given him? He didn’t even ask for anything. And I’m left wondering if I did the right thing, if he really just wanted a place to lay his head for the night, or if he may have had sinister intentions. Who knows, because when he left, he was gone. It brings to mind Jesus’ story about treating strangers nicely (“when I was hungry, you fed me, etc”). Maybe this guy, this fellow human being, was down on his luck but otherwise a decent person. Then again, maybe he was a thief and a liar. I feel like I should be able to connect with my fellow globules of atoms in a way that would help me know this. What have we become if we turn our backs on everyone solely on the basis that one of those people might be evil? I sincerely hope this man found a nice patch of grass to rest upon and that he made his way home after sunrise. And if there is any kind of karma, I hope it doesn’t bite me for turning away a stranger with an authentic need for shelter.

Spinnaker: Then and Now

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For all of my life, I’ve never really been a fan of roller coasters or other thrill rides. Especially if it has a loop in it, I can totally live without the experience, but there’s usually enough other attractions at amusement parks that I can still have a satisfying time. At some point in my childhood, I found myself at Six Flags Over Texas with my sister, stepmom, aunt, and older cousins. We were in line for the Spinnaker, a spinny thing on an arm which lifts to a vertical position, giving the riders a few moments of being upside down. I had no desire to ride it, so I said that I wouldn’t. This decision did not sit well with my stepmom, and so began a battle of wills. I eventually lost, influenced in part by my cousin Brian’s offer to let me ride with him in his pod (this same cousin Brian introduced me to peanut butter on pancakes, so I knew he could be trusted).  It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but I still didn’t like it, and never rode it again. I just didn’t see how taking a turn on an amusement park ride would bring the slightest amount of betterment to my life as a whole. It did, however, provide me with a lasting memory.

Which is why, sitting at the bar of Oddfellows last night with Maryam, I felt compelled to drink a cocktail named Spinnaker. From what I can tell, it is a house creation, and its ingredients are bourbon, Bonal, Cointreau, and bitters, served with zest of orange. It was not nearly as scary to me as the amusement park ride, so it was not difficult to convince myself to get it. I had no previous knowledge of Bonal, but it is apparently harmless (as much as a 16% alcohol beverage can be), and actually quite tasty in the Spinnaker. I may have to check out this aperitif next time I’m at the ol’ liquor store. I can be quite adventurous in aspects of life that don’t involve mechanical arms and such throwing one’s body into the air.

I Don’t Mean This to Be a Dream Journal

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So the night before last, I had another “taking off for somewhere else” dream, only this one did not fit the mold of any of the others. It was not in New York, or at my dad’s house (a very common theme), it was not even on Earth. I was in a space ship, relocating to Hong Kong, which is apparently on a neighboring planet. There was quite a bit of waiting, as one might expect from interplanetary travel, and I did a lot of looking out the windows at the stars.

Last night was a whole new ballgame. I was at a dinner party for my writing group – Maryam and Meg were there, as well as Ben, and other people as well – and our new member was in attendance. Not anyone I know in waking life, he was one of those dark and mysterious handsome guys, perhaps inspired a bit by Richard Armitage in MI-5. Well, as it turns out, in my dream I had formed the writing group with people who had killed other people. I had, however, lied to everyone else and had not actually killed anyone myself. This new guy maybe suspected as much, or maybe he was just a murderer, but he glared at me during this whole party as if to say “I know your secret.”

Well, that’s how dreams go.

Why I Like Celebrity Apprentice

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I must say, I am not a fan of reality TV. Generally speaking, it does nothing but showcase the lowest common denominator in our society, and prevents us from seeing what is really important in our lives. It also prevents us from seeing quality art since it is so much cheaper to produce a reality program (even if it is somewhat scripted) than it is to produce a smart comedy or an exciting drama (like Sarah Connor Chronicles – how did they even get enough money to make 1-1/2 seasons?). Every once in a while, though, something will pique my interest. I really did enjoy Beauty and the Geek, even though they only had one female geek (too little, too late).  But I really get a kick out of Celebrity Apprentice.
I never watched the regular Apprentice shows, probably because I don’t really care for Mr.  Trump. The celebrity version intrigued me at first because it was full of personalities that we all sort know, and I wondered how these people would even be able to work together out of their element. It’s a familiar concept in celebrity reality shows – throw a bunch of strong personalities into confined quarters and let them duke it out. But in this case, they are doing – for the most part – real life work. Their tasks are mostly actual tasks any one of us might have to do in our own lives. Sure, we’re not all business people, but people get paid to do the things happening in these competitions. (Fine, people get paid to ballroom dance, I guess, but it’s a much, much smaller percentage of the population.) It’s fascinating and frustrating to watch how people totally dismiss someone like Tom Green, who is a successful business person by his own right, only because he has an off-kilter way of looking at things. Equally interesting is watching people like Lil Jon and John Rich, neither of whom I had any knowledge or interest in previously, really kick butt and accomplish things together. Most of all, though, I get a kick out of this show because I can put myself into the situation and think, “How would I approach this? What solution would I have?” And the ideas I have could actually be useful to me at some point. When will I ever need to eat a slug?
I have a great idea for an upcoming season of Apprentice, but that’s between me and Mr. Burnett. *wink*

Doing My Part to Wean the US Off of OPEC

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As a lot of people who know me can testify, I have had a long-standing relationship with mint Chapstick. At least since 1992, I’ve been pretty much addicted to the stuff. Mint only (referred to as “classic mint” now, or sometimes “spearmint”). I do have a stand-by “regular” flavor in the pocket of my bath robe for emergencies, but mint has always been the staple. I’d always buy anywhere from six to a dozen at a time, and I’d go through them like some people go through boyfriends. (I’m not sure what that means.) Mint Chapstick is not the easiest to find, either. Target will usually have some in stock, but most of the stores within walking distance of me do not. So a couple weeks ago, I ran out of mint Chapstick, which is a wee bit surprising since I usually keep a stock of the stuff. I started using my Burt’s Bees Beeswax Lip Balm to hold me over until I had a chance to get to Target, and you know what? I think I’m a convert. It has a similar minty goodness that my Chapstick has, but with no petrolatum. The Burt’s Bees is pricier than the Chapstick, but I really feel like I don’t need to use as much. With Chapstick, I’m reapplying many times a day, but the Burt’s Bees gets like 1/2 or maybe even a 1/3 the applications. My lips just don’t dry out as soon. Some might think this obvious, but I denied it because I really loved my mint Chapstick. These are the 100% natural ingredients in my Burt’s Bees:

Beeswax, coconut oil, sunflower seed oil, peppermint oil, lanolin, tocopherol, rosemary leaf oil, soybean oil, and canola oil.

Because of the lanolin, I suppose it can’t be considered vegan, but otherwise, a very nice concoction. (I’m not vegan, so it’s not an issue for me.) I guess the tocopherol is Vitamin E.  Well, that’s that, it seems that while I haven’t given up chapstick, it’s very likely I’ve given up Chapstick. Take that, Oil Barons!