Still whining

Many of the bloggers I follow tend to post during the week, then disappear over the weekends.  I work on a computer all day, thus am reluctant to do more of the same in the evenings Monday through Friday.  But weekends?  I'm there, right online, where I feel like I belong.

And soon I may be online at home even more, as I am contemplating upgrading from DSL to FIOS.  The two-year-guaranteed price for the DSL is drawing to a close, and I figure if I am going to pay more anyway, I might as well get more.  I kept putting it off, though, and now I am reaping the benefits of my procrastination.  Yesterday I received in the mail an offer that will basically give me FIOS for the same price as I have been paying for DSL, with a two-year-guarantee on the rate.  Whoo-hoo!  Sign me up!

In work related news, I still hate my new responsibilities, but I am catching on and hence don't feel so overwhelmed.  Also, I have become a bit of a folk hero.  We are moving to a new building this summer, and the new podlike furniture is being test-driven right next to my cubicle.  Last week, the first test team was replaced by a second test team, which included an individual who bathes in perfume each day.  I tend to be sensitive to scents to begin, and this particular one not only gave me a headache, but made me feel physically ill.  I posted a message on our company's version of FB/MyS about how, given that we will be working in closer quarters and without intervening cubicle walls, we all need to be cognizant of the scents we wear, be they perfume, cologne, or scented lotions.  Not only did I receive positive responses online (one of which was from the boss of said offender - yay!), I have been verbally thanked in the halls by people who I don't even know.  All of this goes against my philosophy of keeping a low profile, but the Perfume Queen has not been in the pod since and I feel so much better, it is worth it.

Books:  I finished Horse Boy.  A film crew accompanied the family to Mongolia (that was one way they were able to finance the trip), so I am interested in seeing the DVD.  Most of us know at least on person who falls in the autistic/Asperger spectrum (whether we know it or not), but rarely do we get an inside glimpse of what parenting such a child is like.

(As an aside, I recently commented to some friends that I thought, were I to pursue it, I might be diagnosed as falling somewhere on the Asperger spectrum, citing my social difficulties.  None present said, "Oh, no!  Not you!"  Which is telling, I think.)

Other books:  Finished listening to U Is for Undertow.  Excellent, which is par for the course for Sue Grafton.  Also read Shadow Tag, by Louise Erdrich, which was totally engrossing, but the ending felt abrupt and inconsistent with what went before.  It was almost like Erdrich was facing a deadline and needed to wrap things up, and did so, jarringly and without grace.  This is a problem I have encountered frequently in recently read novels, and a trend that I don't like.

I just started After the Ice, by Alun Anderson, which promises to be excellent if depressing.

Movies:  Watched "The Door in the Floor".  Engrossing but a bit uneven, starting in sadness, veering into comedy, then concluding with one of those odd endings where things just kind of work out all right, even for those who do not deserve to have things go well.  A good film for budding writers, as Jeff Bridges plays an author/illustrator of children's fiction and provides the personal assistant he hires for the summer with a few nuggets of writing wisdom.

Also watched "Canvas" which is about a family in crisis because the mom is schizophrenic and forcibly hospitalized.  It's told from the ten-year-old son's perspective and is the perfect film to watch if you need a good cry.

Can't lose for winning

Not a day goes by where I don't wish they (my bosses) would sever me.  If such a thing happened, I would burst into tears of gratitude, grab my severance, and sprint for the door.  But corporate politics being what they are, my head is not on the chopping block, despite my subtle attempts to put it there.

No one has officially announced anything anywhere, but I am now a release manager (or something like that).  I spend most of my days directing email traffic (when I'm not ignoring it or watching Lotus Notes freeze up).  Last week I was near meltdown, so stressed my face went numb.  This past week was not so bad.  I had to lead the weekly status meeting, though, and when I saw who was attending, I thought, At last, someone upstairs will see how incompetent I am and start that severance ball rolling.

But no.  Instead, Mr. Big told my mentor that he liked the way I led the meeting.  What leading?  I didn't do anything! All I can figure out is my mentor is ambitious and a bit confrontational in an attempt to impress, and I'm neither.  Maybe Mr. Big finds that refreshing.

Anyway, after this little episode, it occurred to me that too many people have a vested interest in believing I am doing a good job, whether I am or not.  Whatever.  It also occurred to me that I don't have to be like my mentor.  The project is high profile (and being on such a project is against my slacker religion), but I am happy to share the limelight (and the work) with the whole team.  Meanwhile, I wonder how long I can use the excuse that I am new to explain away my screw-ups.

Besides routing email, I also spend a lot of time in meetings.  We have Web-Based Conferencing, so all we far flung team members can participate through the magic of technology, video on our PCs and audio on our phones.  I long ago switched to using a hands-free headset so I can knit type notes.  The downside is, just as popular songs can become ear worms, the sing-song sound of accented English can haunt my brain cells long after I've said good-bye.  It's like I am in a crowded room with the sound of conversation going on in the background.  Even when I wake up in the middle of the night - especially when I wake up in the middle of the night - the voices are there.  I'm never alone.

Fortunately for me, everyone I work with speaks English very well, better even than some of my American co-workers.  The only ones I have trouble understanding are the Indians, because they tend to speak rapidly but softly.  I do get a kick out of the little mistakes the different nationalities make:  pronouncing "synonyms" as syNONyns, making "closed" a two-syllable word (the Latvians do that), writing "rump down" instead of "ramp down", etc.    There is one phrase I'm not sure of the origin, though:  they talk about "clubbing" defects or reports, as in grouping them.  Sounds violent.

I guess that is enough for now.  Happy trails to you!

Excuses

One reason I don't post  very often is, all I want to do is complain about my job. Friday I nearly had a meltdown. FYI - if you dab at your eyes with cheap ass toilet paper, it shreds and sticks to your eyelids. Fortunately, I noticed this before I left the restroom.

Onto other topics: I read an article in Tricycle about "green meditation". Essentially, when it gets dark, you don't turn on the lights. Instead, you go to bed, and if you can't sleep, you meditate. Like vegetarianism, the general idea sounds inviting, but the logistics are difficult to imagine, especially if you have a job, a family, friends, or a life of any sort outside the home. At this latitude, in winter one would be in the dark 16 hours a day, and in the summer barely 8. However, I do enjoy rising before the sun and sitting in the dark with my coffee.  Does that count?

Still working on Horse Boy. They are in the middle of nowhere, on horseback, traveling to the reindeer people.

Also listening to U Is for Undertow. Not all fiction works in audio form, but the Sue Grafton series does.

Oh, yeah

Now I remember what it is I hate about having a management-type job: it doesn't feel like real work. Yesterday it was like I was playing "Operator" - developer A tells me he fixed a defect and sends me a file, and I send the file to deployer B and ask if he can deploy it today; when B says okay, I ask tester C if deploying the fix will interrupt testing; when C says it's okay, I tell B to go ahead and deploy; then I wait for B to tell me if the deployment was successful. Which it wasn't, because for some reason a "node" was down, which was causing business analyst D to panic. For this I went to college? Twice? Retirement cannot come soon enough.

Most recent evenings I have been watching the Olympics, which is mildly entertaining and surprisingly engrossing. I'm not attracted to action movies, but wipe-outs on skates or skis? I'm so there. If I was the boss of the Olympics, though, I would turn it back into amateur competition. The primary rules would be, you can enter only one event, and once you have won a medal, you can never return. We could call it the Olympics for Real People.

I finished Bright-Sided. It was okay. Some of my friends are into the Law of Attraction and The Secret and I was hoping B-S would supply me with some ammunition against their magical thinking. But it didn't. Barbara Ehrenreich's bias is about all that carries the book, although the history of positive thinking was interesting. (I didn't know I was such a Calvinist.) Anyway, we all engage in magical thinking in one form or another, which is okay as long as it doesn't supplant critical thinking.

Now I am reading Horse Boy, which is about an autistic kid with an affinity for animals. The dad is convinced his son can be healed if they seek out shamans in Mongolia. No, this is not fiction, which is what makes it such a compelling story.

Somewhere in there, I watched "Bon Voyage" which I would describe as a French romantic farce. It must not have made much of an impression on me because all I can remember is that Gerard Depardieu was in it. Oh! Wait! It was about an actress and her besotted childhood friend in pre-World War II France. Gerard played a government minister the actress was leeching off. Not exactly a fun time in history, but the movie did make me laugh.

The cream rises until it sours

No, I did not get a promotion at work, but my job title did. They posted for the position my co-worker left vacant when he won the position in another department we were both vying for. The posting carries the same title as mine, same level as mine, but I can't do 90% of what they list under skills and responsibilities. At first, I felt bad about myself over this, like I should magically be able to perform those duties despite having no training or coaching in them. But I hired in as a programmer, lo those many years ago, and that is what I am. If it is not what they want anymore, they can sever me. Please.

I am one of those follow-your-bliss proponents, but ironically, my bliss has emigrated. If I want to write code these days, I will have to relocate to Riga or Bangalore or Bratislava. It would be something to consider were I younger, but not in the twilight of my career. And I don't begrudge the off-shore IT people. Everyone needs a job, whether they are in India or Indiana. I consider it a passive way to redistribute wealth.

Meanwhile, closer to home, the yoga studio I used to frequent has split. Again. A couple of months ago, one teacher left to open her own studio, taking a few other teachers with her. Now, the remaining studio has split in two. I stopped attending classes there because the levels of intensity and the class schedule did not suit me anymore. Instead, I have been practicing at home, which I find I really enjoy. I can select which poses I want, hold them as long as I want, rest when I'm tired, gear things up or crank things down to suit my energy level, etc. I don't have to drive anywhere, worry about whether I shaved my pits, take chlorophyll prophylactically in case I get gassy, wonder how germy the floor is, etc. Now I am wondering if part of my unease at the studio was due to the developing rifts. For now, though, I am content to practice at home.

Speaking of germs, I have started using my neti pot. I bought it quite a while ago, then let it moulder under the bathroom sink while I slowly gathered the other materials I deemed necessary for its use: a plastic measuring cup (did not want a glass one in the bathroom), a measuring spoon, non-iodized salt. Then all that stuff sat for a long time before, suddenly, I crossed some line and decided to go for it. One thing I have discovered is, a lot of snot accumulates in my sinuses every 24 hours. Another thing is, the chlorine in my tap water stings my sinuses, so I use filtered water. We'll see if it helps with that little virus I suffer from periodically.

For the record, I finished Trauma Farm and started Bright-Sided.

What else is new? Let's see. I'm losing what little enthusiasm I had for FB, primarily because I've discovered just how tiresome some of my friends are. I'm surprised at how vehement a lot of them are about FB changes. It is just an app, a free (so far) one at that. If you don't like it, don't use it. How difficult is that?

Gurgle

I have a co-worker who has school-aged kids. The kids bring home all sorts of exotic germs, which my co-worker then brings to work to share with me. So today I am home fighting a cold. Symptoms so far: congested lungs, earache, headache, sore throat, fatigue. I thought about gutting it out and going to work anyway - showered and dressed and everything - since all I do is sit in a chair all day, but just the thought of climbing the stairs to my cubicle wore me out. Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

The more I learn about the project I am newly supporting, the less it appears I will have to do. It's a slick app with a finite set of requirements, a clean interface, plenty of functionality. My job is to support the released versions, but there are three more releases due out this year, so any problems that crop up will probably be fixed in one of the subsequent releases. And then, after the final release, support will segue to another department. So, what is it I am supposed to be doing here? I don't know, but everyone seems happy that I am on board to do it. Corporate IT - gotta love it.

Regarding the previously blogged about coat search, I did return to Kohl's to look over the men's coats, but I had the same problem there that I have with women's clothes: by the time they are on sale, my size is so picked over as to be non-existent. Is everyone in this city the same size as me, even the men? Hard to believe, but it's true.

In other random information, I think my dog's dreams and my dreams are starting to intersect. The other night I dreamed that she kept peeing in the house, and when we got up in the morning, the dog wanted out before eating. Unheard of.

Reading: Finished Anne Tyler's latest, Noah's Compass. Working on Trauma Farm. Maybe if I get energetic about it, reviews may be forthcoming. Or not. The short version is, thumbs up on both.

Movies: Watched "The Band's Visit". Thumbs up here, too. Now I have "The Thin Man". Yes, that movie. One of my fb friends has been watching them, which reminded me of how much I enjoyed them. So why not? Beats Mel Gibson.

Take your golf ball to work

My right heel still hurts, off and on, from the plantar fasciitis. My SO's daughter suggested rolling a golf ball around with my foot, so that is what I do at work when it is bothering me. At home, I use one of the dog's toy balls, a nubby thing that won't slide on the carpet. Hopefully, it will continue to improve because the latest health news says, it doesn't matter how healthy you eat or how much you exercise if you sit on your butt all day long. So now I am making a point of getting out of my chair at least once an hour at work. We'll pretend that is not affecting my productivity.

Speaking of work, this week I heard the final nail in my career coffin driven home. The short version is, I no longer do software development, since that has all been outsourced. Now I am doing product support, which is more like business analysis. Instead of writing code, I get to study the requirements and research defects and validate modifications, all those things I HATE. The only worse thing would be code reviews. Right now I am at the "study the requirements" stage, which is really difficult for me because I keep dozing off. I don't know how BAs do it. The software developers are in Riga. Maybe I will have to go visit.

What else is new? I broke down and bought some jeans. The only ones I had that I could still fit into were growing a crotch hole, and it was just a matter of time before they became indecent.

An aside: There is something about entering a clothing store that just makes me lose heart. I don't know if it is the plethora of unflattering choices or the fact I have the fashion sense of a doorknob or what, but it is all I can do to not run out of there in tears.

Anyway, I bought these jeans at Kohl's. They are Lee's. They are incredibly LONG. After washing, they are better but still too long. Maybe "boot cut" now means you are supposed to wear them with stiletto heels. They have some Spandex in them but don't feel like they have Spandex, if you know what I mean. Very comfy. But long.

While I was there, I also looked for simple, inexpensive tops to wear with my pj bottoms. I have looked for these multiple times in multiple stores. They don't exist, at least in the women's department, unless you want something that looks too stupid to wear even to bed. At Target, I had purchased some long sleeved T's in the men's department, but despite being 100% cotton, they were unwearable. They must have left the bolls in the cotton when they created the cloth. I gave them to the Goodwill; was that wrong? Anyway, at Kohl's I picked up a couple of waffle shirts from Men's Underwear. They are soft and warm and comfy!

I am in need of a new winter coat, too. I tried Dick's, where I discovered those nice insulated coats with a brand name I can't remember (North Country? North Face? North Something. Or maybe I am thinking of Columbia) are EXPENSIVE! So I looked for women's coats at Kohl's. I looked and I looked and I looked. They had a gazillion men's coats, but I could not find the women's. I finally asked someone - the coats were behind the bathing suits. There were not very many to choose from, they each weighed about ten pounds, and they were so puffy I could not get my arms in the sleeves. FAIL. But my SO purchased his coat at Kohl's last year, for a song, so I plan to return and check out the men's coats. And pick up more of those waffle shirts.

In other attempts to spend money, I have been trying to upgrade my DSL to FIOS (FIber OpticS). The Verizon website is a nightmare to navigate, but I also find all the deals they offer to be confusing. Brand new customers get the best deals, of course, but I doubt it would pay to discontinue my existing service long enough to become a new customer. I used to get an offer from them almost everyday in the mail. The offers trailed off during xmas, but they are starting to arrive again. I'm trying not to get obsessed with getting the best deal, but I would really like a free Netbook when I sign up. My SO bought one and it is so CUTE!

What else is new? Not much. Same-o same-o. Plan to spend the day making a butt dent on the couch while I watch football and knit. Sounds like a plan. Go Colts!

Brrrrrrrrr!

I'm having a difficult time summoning any enthusiasm for cross country skiing this morning. The snow is lovely, just perfect in fact, but it is NINE FREAKIN' DEGREES OUT! Never mind that skiing always warms me up, just the idea of being out in it is daunting. It's cold enough INside the house, let alone OUTside.

The only "resolutions" I came up with this year were to practice yoga every other day, and walk on the days in between. My goal was (notice past tense - heh) to do one or the other every day and not substitute other activities for either. I haven't done too badly, but again, this cold weather is difficult to overcome. And now I have plantar fasciitis.

The good news is I found out that my weight problem may not be from eating too much, but from sleeping too little. Someone somewhere did a little study (and if I weren't so lazy, I would look up the facts here), asking a group of women to change nothing about their lifestyle except to get at least 7.5 hours of sleep a night. After six weeks, every one of those women lost weight, between 6 and 15 pounds, I think. I know I eat more when I am tired, so this makes perfect sense to me.

More good news (depending on how you look at it) is the discovery that the calorie counts on packaged foods and restaurant menus are frequently off, and are allowed to be off by up to 20%. (Again, too lazy to find the article, but it's online somewhere, so Google it, folks.) And the errors always seem to be calorie counts that are less than they are in reality. Why is this good news? It explains how I can count calories and still not lose weight. I'm drifting away from packaged foods and restaurant dining more and more these days, anyway, and now I have added reason to.

Hmm. It's 15 degrees now. I'm running out of excuses.

How I spent my xmas vacation

I can't believe I have to go to work tomorrow. I've been on vacation since Dec. 23, and that week I worked from home quite a bit, so it feels like I have been away from the office forever. As usual, I started my hiatus with a laundry list of Things To Do, and some were accomplished but most weren't because they were things I really didn't want to do, so why should I spend my vacation doing them? Today I will probably try to cram some of those chores in; even if I don't want to do them, they really need to be done.

Yesterday I got dressed for the first time in days. Wore a bra and everything. Not that I have been lounging around in pjs or (worse) cooking naked. Sweat or yoga pants, a sports bra mostly for nipple protection, and sneakers have been my uniform. Once dressed, I actually drove out of town on an errand to the middle of nowhere. I'm not a total hermit.

When I have an extended staycation like the past ten days, I try to pretend that I am retired, but the paradigm doesn't really shift. I can't make any long term commitments or completely abandon my sleeping schedule or let everything go to hell if I want. I do a lot of thinking, though, which sometimes is a good thing but sometimes not.

One thing I have been contemplating is what to do about this blog. Lately it has degenerated into movie reviews and whines about work. I have two readers who are not spambots. I maintain two other personal blogs, one about knitting and one about my home and garden, and I sorta maintain blogs for two non-profits, which should be enough but it's not. I can't decide what to do, though, so I guess I will do nothing. For now.

1000 Journals

“It's more important to do something personal than to do something important. That's what I think now.” — 1000 Journals

My SO and I watched this documentary last night. In a nutshell, a graphic designer who calls himself SomeGuy took one thousand blank books, added artwork to the covers, stamped the inside with instructions - keep for two weeks, add whatever you want, pass it on, send it back when it is full - and launched them into the world. His goal was to spark our innate creativity, that fresh way we looked at the world when we were young. "1000 Journals" contains interviews with some of the contributors and how the project impacted their lives. No one was "saved" but everyone gave something and gained something from participating. According to the website FAQ, only one has come back, but in the movie, I think more like two dozen did. There was talk about a museum exhibit - not sure if that ever happened - and a book about the project was published and obviously this movie was made. Oh, and another project, 1001 Journals, came into being.

While I was intrigued by the idea and entertained by the movie, I'm not sure what to think about it all. I am one of those many adults who would not answer "YES" if asked whether I were an artist. In the not so distant past, I tried to keep a journal like these, something that contained more than my daily whine, but could not sustain any interest in it. But now that I am approaching the end of my 50's (GAH!), my interest in this sort of thing is increasing, not as an expression of creativity but as an exploration of my inner life, the real me, whoever that may be.

In the era of the Internet, keeping a journal of any sort on paper seems like an anachronism, but then how to explain the popularity of scrapbooking? In A Year of Cats and Dogs, the protagonist complains about how life has no plot. Maybe journals and scrapbooks and photo albums are our attempts to capture events and apply a storyline of some sort to our existence.

Julie and Julia

Back in my teen years, my mother grew a bit bored with the roast beef and meatloaf meals she had been cooking for decades. We were less than gracious about what we called her "gourmet cooking" but I don't recall refusing to eat what was served. I think she favored the Galloping Gourmet over Julia Child, but it was impossible to be alive in America back then and not to know who Julia Child was. Her style was as unique as William F. Buckley's.

Meryl Streep's Julia ranks right up there with Philip Seymour Hoffman's Capote and Kate Blanchett's Dylan and Hepburn. It would have been so easy to paint Julia's large personality with ridicule or farce, but that line was not crossed.

Briefly, the movie is about Julia Child's path to becoming a famous chef juxtaposed with Julie Powell's blog about cooking every recipe from Julia's first book in the course of a year. Quite frankly, I would have been happy with more of the former and less of the latter. While Julia is a cultural icon, Julie is a pop phenomenon, and a not very interesting one at that. I have to give her kudos, though, for being able to bone a duck.

Amy Adams played Julie. She is one those actresses who morph enough with each role that I don't pick up on the fact that I have seen her in other movies, including important films like "June Bug" and "Doubt". Ditto Stanley Tucci as Paul. I raked over his filmography, trying to figure out just where I've seen him before. It appears I've seen him all over the place, but not in any roles that stick in my mind.

This movie could have been the story of a great romance. I wish someone loved me the way Paul loved Julia. And I wish I loved someone like Julia loved Paul. Maybe I need to cultivate a big personality, a grating falsetto, and a love of French cooking.

Religulous

A few weeks ago, my neighbor called, wanting to foist some Mad Ants basketball tickets onto me. I told him I had other plans, but I did not elaborate, because those plans involved a butt dent in the couch and watching Bill Maher make fun of religion in "Religulous". Some people would not think that was funny.

But I did. Religion, and the people who practice it, are easy targets for ridicule. I just don't understand how an individual can reject scientific evidence that supports the concept of evolution and yet believe in talking snakes, virgin birth, and raising people from the dead, without suffering enough cognitive dissonance to make his/her head explode.

I confess that I lack the capacity (or the imagination?) to make the leap of faith that religion requires. And I have tried, I truly have. I can get excited about becoming a believer for about 15 minutes, but then it all just fades away. Consequently, while I found "Religulous" to be entertaining, it didn't tell me anything I didn't already know. The movie was obviously edited for comedic effect as well, so any insight it might appear to provide should be taken with a grain of salt.

Not a movie review

Not that I don't have a movie to watch from Netflix. I have a bad habit of not watching my Netflix movies in a timely fashion, a habit I was trying to break - hence, the sequence of movie reviews - but now I am back to my old wastrel tricks.

So what have I been up to? Well, I went on a business trip last week. I complain a lot about my job and I don't always agree with how I am managed, but there are very few really bad things I can say about my employer, especially when they own what amounts to a time share in private jets. And that is how found myself in this...



... eating this...



... with a view like this.



The problem is our fair city is very expensive and difficult to fly in and out of, and the company's solution is NetJets. This was my first time on board, and it puts commercial flight to shame. There is no security to pass through, none of this get-to-the-airport-hours-ahead-of-time. In fact, I was late due to an accident on the highway and THEY WAITED FOR ME. And the steward brought us coffee and breakfast when we took off and hot towels when we arrived(!!!)

The time at HQ was not very interesting. We were seated in the "basement" with the contractors, and this was our view:



Believe it or not, there is a deer in that picture. My travelling companion and I were so excited, you'd think we had never seen wildlife before. And, for me, that was the highlight of the trip. That, and getting to watch "Monday Night Football" and back-to-back-to-back reruns of "Law and Order: SVU".

The low point was getting sick from the salad bar in the cafeteria - the shrimp cooties in the mango and shrimp salad must have jumped across to the asparagus (I'm allergic to shellfish). The upside was I missed the company party, bowling followed by a meal in a shrimp-infested hibachi restaurant. By the time I felt better, it was time to go home.

Gran Torino

I like Clint Eastwood. I like most Clint Eastwood movies. "Gran Torino" is no exception.

Basically, the story involves recently widowed Walt who lives in a changing neighborhood. Walt likes to growl and complain. Estranged from his own family, he unwillingly gets involved with the Hmong family next door. There is gang violence involved, and Walt decides he has to do something about it.

Like most Clint Eastwood movies, it is best not to examine this one too closely, or you will notice that there is only one multi-dimensional character and that the rest of the cast is there to move the plot along. And don't think too much about how good-natured the Hmong are about being called a wide variety of racial epithets. And don't get caught up in wondering if your own death will have meaning.

Instead, laugh out loud when Walt decides to "man up" his teenage neighbor Thao by teaching him how men talk to each other (it involves a lot of profanity and ethnic slurs) and cry a little about the need for some to drag down the others and nod approvingly at the surprisingly satisfying ending.

Mystic River

Many years ago, I watched "Mystic Pizza" so I assumed "Mystic River" took place in a southern Connecticut port town. But no, it's Boston based. A second level of confusion resulted in the fact that one character is named "Sean" but not the character played by Sean Penn, who is "Jimmy". Just as I can't keep track of who has the ball when the Vikings play Green Bay, I had trouble keeping the names straight, except for "Dave". And I did not realize this was a Clint Eastwood-directed film until the end, when the credits rolled.

This was one long, slow-paced, dark movie. I don't think there was a moment of levity in the whole thing. And a certain amount of knowledge had to be inferred from the dialog. Fortunately, my daughter was on hand to keep me up to speed.

The basic story line is, three eleven-year-old boys are deeply affected by what happens to one of them, Dave. Flash forward 25 years, and we see that one is a cop and one is a petty thief turned local boss of his own little fiefdom, while damaged Dave acts kind of dumb but is smarter than we think. Jimmy's nineteen-year-old daughter is brutally murdered, and Sean the cop works the case. He and his partner focus on one likely candidate after another, but by the time they nab the perpetrator, one of their suspects becomes fish food.

This movie reminds me of "Unforgiven" - another Clint Eastwood movie - which I "got" but could not explain. Things are not tied up in a neat little bundle in the end. If you can stand that kind of uncertainty, this may be a movie for you.

To Joy

I'm a fan of Ingmar Bergman, but I found "To Joy" a bit difficult to watch. The acting seemed overwrought, even for 1950, and the story a bit disjointed. Fortunately, it was a short film.

But there were some solid themes running through it:
* What happens when we find out we are not as special as we thought?
* How do we parse out freedom and responsibility?
* Where does love go when it takes a holiday? And how do we lure it back?

I watch (read) a lot of foreign films and wonder about the nuances of the translations. And I'm not very familiar with most of the classical music that punctuated this movie. I think I would have appreciated the movie more were I better educated.

Bored and boring, but it's a grand life

Falling back on memes for blog material is a telling marker that my life (and me) are rather boring. Join me in my boredom!

What is your idea of perfect happiness?
If it weren't for my job, my neighbors, and other people, I would be perfectly happy. Actually, my neighbors aren't too bad, except for the one with the five (FIVE) barking dogs.

What is your greatest fear?
Being old and sick and diagnosed with dementia when all I really need is a stiff drink and a cigarette.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
Gee, so many to choose from. I'll say, the eating thing. When stressed, my eating is out of control. Although last night, when I was feeling particularly weepy about city services (or the lack thereof) and discovered the makings for s'mores in the cupboard, I limited myself to two. I don't like marshmallows that much, and they are so sweet they killed my taste for more chocolate. Now, if I had had some milk in the fridge, the graham crackers would be history.

What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Again, so many to choose from. There are the usual - intolerance, ignorance, selfishness - but most days what I really hate is how other people drive.

On what occasion do you lie?
In general, I don't lie, except to myself, e.g. "I didn't eat THAT much today."

What is your greatest extravagance?
Define extravagance. Others might judge my yarn stash an extravagance, or the fact that I buy organic food, but even in those areas, I have my limits.

What is your current state of mind?
Boredom. (Editor's note: I wrote this at work.) I'm almost always bored. Me and Flaubert.

What is the quality you most like in a man?
I like a guy who says what he thinks. Also, is willing to make the phone calls to solidify the plans.

What is the quality you most like in a woman?
I like a gal who says what she thinks. Also, is willing to make the phone calls to solidify the plans.

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
"Asshole" and "shit". But usually they are so appropriate! Especially when on the road!

When and where were you happiest?
In college. Freedom without responsibility! And while nursing my babies.

Who are your favorite writers?
This changes all the time. Lorrie Moore and Michael Connelly come to mind, although I am reading Marilyn French right now.

Which talent would you most like to have?
Metaphors. I cannot come up with a halfway decent metaphor to save my life.

If you could change one thing about your family, what would it be?
My family, as in my kids, or family, as in my siblings? My kids are perfect, and my siblings are okay. I do wish my mother had lived longer, though.

If you died and came back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be?
A cat or an otter. Or a tree. Or a wiser version of me. I like to think we learn something in this life that will help us in the next, assuming there is a next. Otherwise, what is the point?

What do you dislike most about your appearance?
The extra 30-40 pounds I tote around. Since it is mostly around my waist, it really gets in my way.

Where would you like to live?
I like where I live, but we could use a bit more snow in the winter. The summers have been kind of dry lately, too. And then there are those barking dogs.

What is your most treasured possession?
Well, my kids are most treasured, but they are not possessions, and any pet owner will tell you that it's the pets that own US. If the house caught on fire and the pets were safe, the only things I would grab would be my laptop and my purse, because each contains huge portions of my life.

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
The loss of a child, even though that goes beyond misery.

What do you most value in your friends?
I like a friend who says what s/he thinks. Also, is willing to make the phone calls to solidify the plans. (Ask me something different!)

What are your favorite names?
First American names, because they say something about the namee. Mine would probably be Grumpy Bear or Dances with Beagles.

What is it that you most dislike?
Besides the usual - intolerance, ignorance, selfishness - the way people drive.

What is your greatest regret?
Not following my dreams when I was young. I can still follow those dreams, but it is so much more difficult with a mortgage.

How would you like to die?
First, I plan to live forever - don't we all? But if I must die, let it be in my sleep. But only if the house is clean.

What is your motto?
Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. Moderation in all things. It's a grand life, if you don't weaken.

Vitus

This Swiss film is the sweet and funny story of a boy genius who wants to be normal. Vitus is a prodigy who truly loves music, but doesn't like how people, especially his parents, treat him because of his gift. Grandpa is the exception, as are a few others who realize he is fine just the way he is.

It is telling that, after viewing one too many Hollywood movies, I kept waiting for something bad to happen - a tragedy, a molestation, a prank gone horribly wrong. But instead, the story progresses along a natural timeline. Along side the plot are questions of parentage - dad is a workaholic, mom becomes overly invested in Vitus's success - and questions about just what is "normal".

The storyline gets a bit fantastic toward the happily-ever-after conclusion, but the ending fits the story. A pleasant, intelligent movie appropriate for most ages.

P.S. All my blogs are getting spam from "anonymous" commenters. So I am going to disallow anonymous comments, to see if that eliminates this pesky problem. Not that anyone will notice.

Cleanliness is next to clean-limbed (in my dictionary)

Many years (actually, decades) ago, a group of us from college developed the habit of gathering twice a year, sans children and other significant others. We started with a stolen Saturday afternoon (some of us were nursing babies), which later grew to an entire day, an overnight, and eventually a whole weekend. It gave us an opportunity to smoke, drink, eat chocolate, watch R-rated movies, play cards, and discuss whatever subjects were pressing at the time. Thirty (30?!?) years later, we smoke less and drink less and eat less, but we still gather and gab.

This past weekend, the group met up at my house, which meant I did not have to drive anywhere but I had to clean everything. I'm one of those people who cannot see the dirt in my own home except through the eyes of others, family members excluded. After executing a rapid "spring cleaning" in anticipation of this weekend, all I can say is, Oh. My. God. It was gross. It was inexcusable. It was embarrassing. My house was filth personified.

But now it is clean! And I would like to keep it that way. Occasionally, I consider hiring someone to clean, rationalizing it would take only one or two hours a week to keep things under control. Then I think, surely, SURELY, I could spend one or two hours a week doing just that. But for some reason, I don't.

Not that I don't create a cleaning schedule for myself. Living alone, if I did an abbreviated spring cleaning in one area each week, my house would always be presentable. Week 1: bedrooms. Week 2: bathrooms. Week 3: livingroom, diningroom, West Wing. Week 4: family room and kitchen. This would be beyond the weekly laundry and vacuuming and toilet swishing. This would be the mopping and the decobwebbing and the dust bunny roundup. Not everything would need to be done every time, but each area would receive a bit of individual attention, to keep things from going to hell and to forestall a cleaning marathon such as the one that occurred last week.

What usually happens, though, is when it comes time to execute the plan for week 1, I think, Well, it's still clean from the last cleaning and I'd rather do such-and-such and I'll do it next time. And that is usually the end of that.

Actually, if I could just keep the breakfast bar clear, I would be happy.

Auntie Climactic

I'm not a holiday person, and in the past, I have complained bitterly about the extortion of Halloween. But I really do get a kick out of the kids. Well, most of them. What's up with the "Happy Halloween!" greetings? What happened to "Trick or treat!"?

Ordinarily, this plastic bag adorned with a jack o' lantern face and stuffed with packing peanuts is all the further I will go re decorations. But for some reason, this year I went wild and plopped down $4 for the above window treatments. So I was stoked, in my own pathetic little way.

\

So where were the tricky treaters? I started with a 90-count bag of "fun-sized" Starburst and Skittles (chosen because I don't like either). At the end of the evening, I still had 72 left. (Despite my distaste for them, I ate three). Were the kids sick? Were their parents afraid of germy candy? Because it was a Saturday night, were there parties in place of canvassing the neighborhood? I don't know. At least the ones who did show up were wearing the best costumes ever.

And I have the best daughter ever, as evidenced by these birthday flowers:



(No, my birthday is not on Halloween. I'm just late in posting this pic.)