So, after the marathon, J and I watched a lot of movies. He was exhausted, and I was sunburned, and it was Memorial Day weekend. What better way to remember our dear beloved departed than by sitting on the couch, drinking cold beers and letting the tv rot our brains? In fact, our brains were so rotted by the end of the mini film fest that I decided to move furniature, re-organize the house and swamp out the storage space. Hahahahaha, what was I thinking? Stupid tv, tricking me in to doing actual housework! Bah!
Anyway, here is a rundown of what we saw:
Angels and Demons:
We always see a particularly stupid movie right after the race. This fit the bill. I think the popcorn and the diet pepsi were more memorable than the movie. Blah blah blah, conspiracy theory mystery, blah blah blah, I guessed the villian half way through the movie, blah blah, beautiful renaissance artwork, lame riddles, ewan macgregor, blah blah.
Season One of Showtime's The Tudors:
I love fancy costumes and period pieces; I dislike gratuitous sex scenes, flat characters, and Jonathan Rhys-Meyers cast in a completely unsympathetic role. This is bad TV, yet it is strangely intriguing at the same time. It paints Catherine of Aragon in a very positive light, and it goes on beyond the 'Anne Years' to tell the stories of the other 4 wives, which is interesting and kind of unusual (in the US, we love to love QE 1, thus we love to love Anne Boylen). However, my mind rebells at the portrayal of Henry VIII as vain, insane and completely played by his courtiers. The historical Henry VIII couldn't possibly have been that stupid!
Marley and Me:
The puppy is naughty and cute; the people love him; the end is sad. You're supposed to cry a little, and I did. The main character is a non-alpha-personality, who doesn't go out on a limb, sort of envies the success of his friends, and surprises himself by finding happiness and success in a different way than he had once dreamed of. This movie was sweet, charming, and probably only rates a B-, but it was very, very thought-provoking in tandem with The Wrestler. If watched in tandem with The Wrestler, it probably gets an A-.
The Wrestler:
a man must choose between practing his art and dying (in glory) or abandoning his art and existing as an outsider in a world that does not value him. It just so happens that his art is professional wrestling. This film is unique, well-executed and has an honest vibe. The wrestling scenes are a little... um... grotesque (think staple guns), and if you are not really into huge displays of violence (like me), you may not find this film visually appealing, but you will fall in love with Randy 'The Ram', and your heart will break (in a very cool, sophisticated and ironic way) as he and his love interest Cassidy fail to navigate the frail division between reality and spectacular realm of fantasy.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
We Gotta Get Outta Cape Cod Tonight, and other random thoughts.
Vampire Weekend is so stuck in my head right now. They are sound like what the love child of Death Cab For Cutie and a steel drum calypso band would be, if said love child were to be cherished and loved and dressed in handmade clothes and given balloons, instead of being made to sleep in the fire grate and scrub the stairs. I love them.
J ran the marathon on Sunday. I followed him on my bike for a good part of the route. It was such a feeling of joyful anarchy to ride my bike on streets that are normally not bike-safe against the 'regular' flow of traffic. The marathon people provide water and gatorade at regular intervals, but we were unsure how hot the weather was going to get, so I had a couple of otter pops in a soft-sided cooler in my backpack to offer J in case he got overheated. He did not, but we certainly enjoyed the otter pops after the race. Friends met us at the finish line to congratulate J and make the requisite post-marathon visit to The World's Largest Brat Fest.
I enjoyed Brat Fest less well this year than I have in previous years. Now they have one of those transportable carnival midways set up, which makes things a lot more crowded and noisy. I hate carnivals. This probably makes me un-american and thus ineligible to be featured on a postage stamp some day, but I do not care. I hate them. Carnies are creepy, the games are always rigged, the prizes are made in sweat-shops in poor Asian countries, and I do not like rides. Rides at Disneyland and permanent amusement parks are ok, but I am always afraid of the traveling carnival rides. For one thing, you can see the rust. For another thing, who is to say that the carney who bolted it togeter this time wasn't drunk or high? At Disneyland, the rides stay in one piece the whole time, so you know that none of the bolts are poorly fastened. And they have safety inspectors. And if you die, you actually know the name of the actual company to sue in order to pay for your funeral.
Damn, I'm either a total chicken or a conservative grown-up.
J ran the marathon on Sunday. I followed him on my bike for a good part of the route. It was such a feeling of joyful anarchy to ride my bike on streets that are normally not bike-safe against the 'regular' flow of traffic. The marathon people provide water and gatorade at regular intervals, but we were unsure how hot the weather was going to get, so I had a couple of otter pops in a soft-sided cooler in my backpack to offer J in case he got overheated. He did not, but we certainly enjoyed the otter pops after the race. Friends met us at the finish line to congratulate J and make the requisite post-marathon visit to The World's Largest Brat Fest.
I enjoyed Brat Fest less well this year than I have in previous years. Now they have one of those transportable carnival midways set up, which makes things a lot more crowded and noisy. I hate carnivals. This probably makes me un-american and thus ineligible to be featured on a postage stamp some day, but I do not care. I hate them. Carnies are creepy, the games are always rigged, the prizes are made in sweat-shops in poor Asian countries, and I do not like rides. Rides at Disneyland and permanent amusement parks are ok, but I am always afraid of the traveling carnival rides. For one thing, you can see the rust. For another thing, who is to say that the carney who bolted it togeter this time wasn't drunk or high? At Disneyland, the rides stay in one piece the whole time, so you know that none of the bolts are poorly fastened. And they have safety inspectors. And if you die, you actually know the name of the actual company to sue in order to pay for your funeral.
Damn, I'm either a total chicken or a conservative grown-up.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
There and back again
County roads through the Wisconsin Driftless Area are windy and make me nauseous.
Our campsite was isolated and overlooked a lake. Raccoons visited nightly and each time I was terrifically torn between the emotional desire to snorggle their cuteness and the knowledge that Wild Animals Are Not For Petting And Probably Have Rabies. (Raccoons are less scary than Possums.)
I couldn't find the sunscreen the first day, despite knowing that I'd packed it. My burn will fade to a tan, and that pleases me. When I think of myself in my mind-mirror, I am tan, and I like it. It's good when the mirror me and the me-mirror match. My shoulders feel a bit leathery and every time I get a new freckle-mole, I think thoughts about skin cancer. Much aloe vera is in order. Next time I'll pack my straw hat.
If it were not so cliche and hyperbolic, I'd say I have a sore gut muscle from laughing so hard. Instead I'll say the truth, which is that I laughed a lot, but that my sore gut muscle is probably from eating so much delicious food cooked over a fire.
I know I'm the overly emotive, touchy-feely one of the bunch, so please don't laugh when I say that I wish we had ended the long weekend with a group hug. I will try to convince myself that our round of beers at the Grumpy Troll was an equivalent in the parlance of the collective.
My apartment still seems oddly eerie and foreign. What is this thing called a ceiling, and why do I hear exhaust fans and not birdsong? My bed, however, is divine.
My coffee this morning was acrid and strong. I tempered it with cream leftover from the adventure. I'll probably cry a little when that bottle is empty.
Let's go camping again, and soon!
Our campsite was isolated and overlooked a lake. Raccoons visited nightly and each time I was terrifically torn between the emotional desire to snorggle their cuteness and the knowledge that Wild Animals Are Not For Petting And Probably Have Rabies. (Raccoons are less scary than Possums.)
I couldn't find the sunscreen the first day, despite knowing that I'd packed it. My burn will fade to a tan, and that pleases me. When I think of myself in my mind-mirror, I am tan, and I like it. It's good when the mirror me and the me-mirror match. My shoulders feel a bit leathery and every time I get a new freckle-mole, I think thoughts about skin cancer. Much aloe vera is in order. Next time I'll pack my straw hat.
If it were not so cliche and hyperbolic, I'd say I have a sore gut muscle from laughing so hard. Instead I'll say the truth, which is that I laughed a lot, but that my sore gut muscle is probably from eating so much delicious food cooked over a fire.
I know I'm the overly emotive, touchy-feely one of the bunch, so please don't laugh when I say that I wish we had ended the long weekend with a group hug. I will try to convince myself that our round of beers at the Grumpy Troll was an equivalent in the parlance of the collective.
My apartment still seems oddly eerie and foreign. What is this thing called a ceiling, and why do I hear exhaust fans and not birdsong? My bed, however, is divine.
My coffee this morning was acrid and strong. I tempered it with cream leftover from the adventure. I'll probably cry a little when that bottle is empty.
Let's go camping again, and soon!
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Another List
Ok, so here are some things I have been wanting to blog about. I don't have time to discuss them today, because I have to go buy cookies and decent coffee beans for Kaffeestunde. (I don't know why I volunteered to organize the last "coffee and chit-chat in German for undergrads" session of the year - this one is 2 hours long instead of just one hour, and I am excruciatingly bad at making small talk... I always feel so awkward and stupid!)
(ok, to be honest, I was one item in to making this list, and then the power went out, so now it is several days later and I don't remember what it was that I was thinking about before).
Anyway, my list:
Stellit Licht - The Worst Movie I Have Ever Seen. Three hours of Mennonite marital angst interspersed with scenes of Pure Mennonite Porn. Plus an excitingly confusing plot twist at the end where the one lady we all thought was dead comes back to life, and the movie changes from a weird-and-boring drama to an utter farce. I want those three hours of my life back.
The Runner-up Worst Movie I Have Ever Seen: How Pancho Villa Invaded The US With A Mariachi Band. I swear this movie exists. I do not know what the actual title of it is, but we watched it in one of my high school history classes. The stereotypes and type-casting of the Latino/a characters is embarrassing and ridiculous. However, I think the movie was made in the 60s or 70s, so it is not completely surprising. The mariachi band is surprising and also ridiculous.
What is everyone else planning to bring for meals for camping? What should I plan to bring?
Why are possums so scary and gross? Who even knows? but I bet we could have an essay writing contest with everyone making up their best-guess answer. I get to be the judge, and the winner gets a dead possum, or maybe just some whiskey or hot cocoa.
(ok, to be honest, I was one item in to making this list, and then the power went out, so now it is several days later and I don't remember what it was that I was thinking about before).
Anyway, my list:
Stellit Licht - The Worst Movie I Have Ever Seen. Three hours of Mennonite marital angst interspersed with scenes of Pure Mennonite Porn. Plus an excitingly confusing plot twist at the end where the one lady we all thought was dead comes back to life, and the movie changes from a weird-and-boring drama to an utter farce. I want those three hours of my life back.
The Runner-up Worst Movie I Have Ever Seen: How Pancho Villa Invaded The US With A Mariachi Band. I swear this movie exists. I do not know what the actual title of it is, but we watched it in one of my high school history classes. The stereotypes and type-casting of the Latino/a characters is embarrassing and ridiculous. However, I think the movie was made in the 60s or 70s, so it is not completely surprising. The mariachi band is surprising and also ridiculous.
What is everyone else planning to bring for meals for camping? What should I plan to bring?
Why are possums so scary and gross? Who even knows? but I bet we could have an essay writing contest with everyone making up their best-guess answer. I get to be the judge, and the winner gets a dead possum, or maybe just some whiskey or hot cocoa.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Feeling bloggy, but not much to say.
I finally have a tan. I bought it at the Farmers' Market, along with ramps, spinach, arugula, asparagus, fresh pasta and breakfast.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
List
Things I hope to procure before the Camping Extravaganzaaaa
-sleeping bag for j
-new stuff sack for my sleeping bag
-tent stakes, as mine all seem to have gone missing
-cooler
-cups for coffee (our cute picnic dishes will do fine for plates and utensils, but the set only came with plastic wine glasses, and those are not so great for coffee...)
-jeans
-a daypack
Things I need to find/remember to take along
-bandana
-pocket knife
-first aid kit, including bug repellent, sunscreen, safety pins, band-aids, anti-bacterial goo, anti-itch stuff, athletic tape, rolaids, advil, good chapstick and gauze.
-bird book
-binoculars
-camera
-batteries for camera
-camping chair
-picnic/camping blanket
-sunglasses
-flashlight w/ batteries
-water bottles
-sleeping bag for j
-new stuff sack for my sleeping bag
-tent stakes, as mine all seem to have gone missing
-cooler
-cups for coffee (our cute picnic dishes will do fine for plates and utensils, but the set only came with plastic wine glasses, and those are not so great for coffee...)
-jeans
-a daypack
Things I need to find/remember to take along
-bandana
-pocket knife
-first aid kit, including bug repellent, sunscreen, safety pins, band-aids, anti-bacterial goo, anti-itch stuff, athletic tape, rolaids, advil, good chapstick and gauze.
-bird book
-binoculars
-camera
-batteries for camera
-camping chair
-picnic/camping blanket
-sunglasses
-flashlight w/ batteries
-water bottles
Spring and Fevers and Other Cliches
It's difficult to tell if my self-diagnosis is correct- I've been feeling blah and discontent with my self and my life for the past couple of months. Yet as the weather grows warmer and it becomes ever more evident that despite my best intentions, I will have to buy new and larger shorts yet again this year, my delight at the soft green buds on the maple trees and the soft yellow feathers of blooming forsythia that grace Other People's Gardens is not as absolute and transporting as it has been in years past. It does not displace my malcontent entirely. That still sits bleakly in my heart like a bald-headed vulture or a flaccid leftover parsnip discovered at the bottom of the vegetable drawer. Ugh. There is, however, a new and restless quality to my grumbly and petty unhappiness. Instead of wanting to roll up into a little hedgehog ball of prickly misery, I want to grow wings and escape, to get the hell out of this situation called adulthood where responsibility and decision-making lie heavy on my shoulders, and I am paralyzed by the knowledge that I must soon take a step and by the anxiety that any false step could seriously jeopardize my future well-being.
Do you think that if I followed the second star to the right and went straight on 'til morning I'd really find Never-Never Land?
Well, if I can't, the next best thing is surely a weekend spent camping in the woods with friends! I wasn't able to participate in the last two adventures, due to medical issues and school, but I am so excited about this one. I really, really need a change of scene and a chance to reconnect with friends and get inspired by their energy and bouyant hopes. (I promise to try not to be too much of a Debbie Downer.) I wish we were going this weekend... well, actually no, I don't because then I would miss the Super Awesome Sale at my favorite yarn store and the opening weekend of the new X-Men movie, but still!
I love planning for adventures almost as much as I love the adventures themselves. Not that I don't like spontaneous adventures, but there is something thrilling about making a list of the gear you will need to pack, assembling said gear into (many) tidy little bundles and then leaving everything else at home and heading off into the blue. Yes, I am that sick, sick person who loves to organize the first aid kit, brings a lot of gear, and gets mad at her husband when he doesn't want to get ready for the trip 3 days in advance, but just wants to thow some stuff into a paper bag and head off camping without a water bottle, sunscrean, bug repellent, or a rain coat. What can I say, once a Girl Scout, always a Girl Scout. Don't worry. I won't lecutre you about knife safety rules and if you forget your flashlight and are scared to go to the outhouse in the dark, you can borrow mine, and I won't even say 'I told you so'.
Do you think that if I followed the second star to the right and went straight on 'til morning I'd really find Never-Never Land?
Well, if I can't, the next best thing is surely a weekend spent camping in the woods with friends! I wasn't able to participate in the last two adventures, due to medical issues and school, but I am so excited about this one. I really, really need a change of scene and a chance to reconnect with friends and get inspired by their energy and bouyant hopes. (I promise to try not to be too much of a Debbie Downer.) I wish we were going this weekend... well, actually no, I don't because then I would miss the Super Awesome Sale at my favorite yarn store and the opening weekend of the new X-Men movie, but still!
I love planning for adventures almost as much as I love the adventures themselves. Not that I don't like spontaneous adventures, but there is something thrilling about making a list of the gear you will need to pack, assembling said gear into (many) tidy little bundles and then leaving everything else at home and heading off into the blue. Yes, I am that sick, sick person who loves to organize the first aid kit, brings a lot of gear, and gets mad at her husband when he doesn't want to get ready for the trip 3 days in advance, but just wants to thow some stuff into a paper bag and head off camping without a water bottle, sunscrean, bug repellent, or a rain coat. What can I say, once a Girl Scout, always a Girl Scout. Don't worry. I won't lecutre you about knife safety rules and if you forget your flashlight and are scared to go to the outhouse in the dark, you can borrow mine, and I won't even say 'I told you so'.
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