Woke this morning to find October bearing down upon me like herd of stampeding horses. "Herd" is not right, though. That's for cattle. It's morning and my brain is losing words, but you get my drift. I mean a large group of stampeding horses. Or other large animals that stampede. October has come really fast, is what I'm saying.
Where did September go? School started. Some folks at school decided to have conferences and parties every other week. There's nothing like a series of events to make the days go fast--the present flashes by while one orders food and reserves hotel rooms for the future.
And in the last week, there have been movies and screenings and plays and an out-of-town guest.
The plays have included Cole Porter's Kiss Me Kate at the Pasadena Playhouse which was impressive but long, and Trip to Bountiful at the Ahmanson Theater which was really lovely and affecting.
The visiting friend was M, from grad school in Tallahassee, who has recently moved back to the states after several years abroad. On Thursday we did a "Hollywood" thing--went to a pre-screening of The Judge, and saw Robert Downey Jr. and Robert Duvall at the Q and A afterward. I never would have expected Robert Downey off-screen to remind me of my brother-in-law, but so it was. On Saturday we went on an overnight meditation retreat at Monrovia Canyon Park. It was meditation-lite, but it was pleasant and the park was beautiful. We went on a hike the next day. Monday I took off work and we took the train down town to the Grand Central Market, which is mostly a really big food court with some produce and chile vendors mixed in, and then we spent a couple hours at The Last Bookstore. And in between and during those things we talked a ton and got caught up on each others' lives.
And now it's October first, and the bedroom floor, which I had actually emptied enough to vacuum before M's visit, is an obstacle course of duffel bags, sleeping bags, and hampers full of un-ironed laundry. And of course, with all the recent excitement, I'm behind on screenplay pages. My goal has been to turn in 10-15 pages a week, and for the last two weeks I've averaged 6-7, and I've also fallen behind on breaking the story in advance--which is kind of like clearing yourself a path to follow so you don't have to swing the machete as you write--so I've got some brush clearing to do in addition to covering ground.
Guess it should all start with a shower...
Showing posts with label Culture/Entertainment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Culture/Entertainment. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 01, 2014
Thursday, May 22, 2014
When Nouns Become Verbs
I sometimes like it.
Probably not always. Most of the examples that I can think of off the top of my head have to do with emerging technologies. "Facebook me." "I'll Google it." These are okay--short and also specific, which I respect. Though I'm not a fan of saying "google" for "search" if Google is not the search engine, as that is kind of misleading instead of specific.
What I really like--and what has me writing on this topic to begin with-- is when the language is used more playfully and willfully, so that it has poetry as well as efficiency. I recently read Karen Russell's Sleep Donation and jotted down two examples:
"We moth along toward the lights."
"Moth along." Kind of great, right? She's describing human beings at a night market. It evokes a different visual image and / or sense of intent from "walking", or "traveling" or "moving"--this is more haphazard. And there's mood too--a sense of danger, of bad judgement in action. For a short phrase it does a lot of work.
Here's another: "She has to houdini out of her restraints."
Not just struggle or wiggle--though certainly we feel wiggling is part of it. But we feel that "she" has a willfulness, and intent to escape her restraints such that she is doing something a little outside the possible. Like Houdini.
Probably not always. Most of the examples that I can think of off the top of my head have to do with emerging technologies. "Facebook me." "I'll Google it." These are okay--short and also specific, which I respect. Though I'm not a fan of saying "google" for "search" if Google is not the search engine, as that is kind of misleading instead of specific.
What I really like--and what has me writing on this topic to begin with-- is when the language is used more playfully and willfully, so that it has poetry as well as efficiency. I recently read Karen Russell's Sleep Donation and jotted down two examples:
"We moth along toward the lights."
"Moth along." Kind of great, right? She's describing human beings at a night market. It evokes a different visual image and / or sense of intent from "walking", or "traveling" or "moving"--this is more haphazard. And there's mood too--a sense of danger, of bad judgement in action. For a short phrase it does a lot of work.
Here's another: "She has to houdini out of her restraints."
Not just struggle or wiggle--though certainly we feel wiggling is part of it. But we feel that "she" has a willfulness, and intent to escape her restraints such that she is doing something a little outside the possible. Like Houdini.
Related articles
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Thinking About the Weather
Los Angeles current temperature: 93. Wednesday's high: 99. Thursday's high: 99. Friday's high: 95.
For some reason "Like the Weather" from 10 Thousand Maniacs popped into my head. An old favorite back in the day. I had a tape, but never watched the music video of the song. Would it have occurred to to me how incongruous the performance is with the subject of the song? Maybe she (they) figured no one wants to watch you sit around and be mopey. Or maybe the exuberance of youth was just too strong to be squelched.
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9YelgLoQMLE?rel=0&w=420&h=315]
For some reason "Like the Weather" from 10 Thousand Maniacs popped into my head. An old favorite back in the day. I had a tape, but never watched the music video of the song. Would it have occurred to to me how incongruous the performance is with the subject of the song? Maybe she (they) figured no one wants to watch you sit around and be mopey. Or maybe the exuberance of youth was just too strong to be squelched.
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9YelgLoQMLE?rel=0&w=420&h=315]
I lift my head from the pillow and then fall again
I get a shiver in my bones just thinking about the weather
A quiver in my lip as if I might cry
A quiver in my lip as if I might cry
And by the force of will my lungs are filled and so I breathe
Lately it seems this big bed is where I never leave
I get a shiver in my bones just thinking about the weather
A quiver in my voice as I cry
Lately it seems this big bed is where I never leave
I get a shiver in my bones just thinking about the weather
A quiver in my voice as I cry
"What a cold and rainy day
Where on earth is the sun hid away?"
Where on earth is the sun hid away?"
I hear the sound of a noon bell chime, well I'm far behind
you put in 'bout half a day while here I lie
With a shiver in my bones just thinking about the weather
A quiver in my lip as if I may cry
you put in 'bout half a day while here I lie
With a shiver in my bones just thinking about the weather
A quiver in my lip as if I may cry
What a cold and rainy day
Where on earth is the sun hid away?
Where on earth is the sun hid away?
Do I need someone here to scold me?
Or do I need someone who'll grab and pull me out of?
Four poster, dull torpor pulling downward
Or do I need someone who'll grab and pull me out of?
Four poster, dull torpor pulling downward
For it's such a long time since my better days
I say my prayers nightly, this will pass away
I say my prayers nightly, this will pass away
The color of the sky is gray as I can see through the blinds
Lift my head from the pillow and then I fall again
I get a shiver in my bones just thinking about the weather
A quiver in my lip as if I may cry
Lift my head from the pillow and then I fall again
I get a shiver in my bones just thinking about the weather
A quiver in my lip as if I may cry
A cold and rainy day
Where on earth is the sun hid away?
Where on earth is the sun hid away?
A cold and rainy day
I shiver, quiver, and try to wake
I shiver, quiver, and try to wake
Thursday, May 08, 2014
Movie Update: Belle, Palo Alto, The Devil Came on Horseback
I'm behind on recording movies. I know I've seen a couple that I've
forgotten about..Maybe it doesn't matter, because maybe hearing someone
recite movies they've watched is about as interesting as someone telling
you their dreams. But here's the last three anyway:
Last weekend Paul offered me a date night--since game night got cancelled-- and I picked the movie. Belle. You should go see it. It was really good. And it was directed by a woman. I can't name a single other mainstream theatrical release directed by a woman this year. It's May. That's a pathetic state of affairs, just by the way, but should make it easy to support films by women because you only need to do it a couple of times a year. Here's a review from the Washington Post.
Last night I watched a documentary about Darfur called The Devil Came on Horseback. Also really good. Was I saying something in my last post about counting blessings? Darfur was a tragedy of such proportions there is nothing in my life to compare to it. There are people to whom fate has only been brutal. The thing with the Nigerian girls being kidnapped by the Boko Haram also falls into a similar category, and is really on my mind of late. It's made me curious about Nigeria. I didn't see any documentaries about Nigeria at the library, however, so pulled some about other parts of Africa.
Tonight I went to a screening of Palo Alto, a film directed by Gia Coppola based on short stories by James Franco. I almost skipped it, disheartened by a third generations of Coppola making a movie in my lifetime when it seems unlikely I'll ever make one (or have my collection of short stories published after I'm already an international film star). But then I decided not to be a hater--and it was free, so I went, and it was sweet. I'll attach some reviews below.
Last weekend Paul offered me a date night--since game night got cancelled-- and I picked the movie. Belle. You should go see it. It was really good. And it was directed by a woman. I can't name a single other mainstream theatrical release directed by a woman this year. It's May. That's a pathetic state of affairs, just by the way, but should make it easy to support films by women because you only need to do it a couple of times a year. Here's a review from the Washington Post.
Last night I watched a documentary about Darfur called The Devil Came on Horseback. Also really good. Was I saying something in my last post about counting blessings? Darfur was a tragedy of such proportions there is nothing in my life to compare to it. There are people to whom fate has only been brutal. The thing with the Nigerian girls being kidnapped by the Boko Haram also falls into a similar category, and is really on my mind of late. It's made me curious about Nigeria. I didn't see any documentaries about Nigeria at the library, however, so pulled some about other parts of Africa.
Tonight I went to a screening of Palo Alto, a film directed by Gia Coppola based on short stories by James Franco. I almost skipped it, disheartened by a third generations of Coppola making a movie in my lifetime when it seems unlikely I'll ever make one (or have my collection of short stories published after I'm already an international film star). But then I decided not to be a hater--and it was free, so I went, and it was sweet. I'll attach some reviews below.
Related articles
Sunday, March 09, 2014
Book Review: Bill of the Century
A couple of weeks ago, I finished a short course in book reviewing.
We discussed things like the changing culture of reviewing with the
advent of social media and decline in traditional publishing, and the
recent debate regarding the pros and cons of printing a negative
reviews. We also made a couple of stabs at review writing. I doubt I
will embark on a career as a reviewer anytime soon, but it was a good
exercise to have to generate a perspective on a book as I read it, and
then present that perspective in some coherent fashion. Here's a little
sample of my efforts:
Bill of the Century: The Epic Battle for the Civil Rights Act
According to Clay Risen, we tend to credit the achievement of the Civil Rights Act to Lyndon B. Johnson and Martin Luther King, Jr. largely because theirs are the names and stories with which we are familiar. Risen is kind enough to include himself in the “we” but I suspect he doesn’t actually belong there. I, however, do. In a word association game, I would complete “Emancipation Proclamation” with “Abraham Lincoln” and the “The New Deal” with “FDR,” because those are the only names I know. If there were more in my high school A.P. history study guide, I don’t remember them.
Unfortunately, Risen notes, our tendency to assign credit in such a simplified manner is both unfair and inaccurate. “The idea that either King or Johnson was the dominant figure behind the Civil Rights Act,” he writes, “distorts not only the history of the act but the process of American legislative policymaking in general.”
In The Bill of the Century: The Epic Battle for the Civil Rights Act, Risen sets out to correct that distortion by presenting us with the literary equivalent to a “making of,” documentary, beginning in early 1963, a point during John F. Kennedy’s term at which civil rights legislation was at low ebb, and tracing the gradual rise of tide leading to the signing of the Civil Rights Bill on July 2, 1964.
A work that sets out to reframe historical events can’t help but shine a light on the fact that any view of history is a result of framing. Maybe this is why I found myself drawn to the moments in the book that revealed how players strove to frame events even as they were happening. While some examples of this—like a gala White House reception where Langston Hughes and Sammy Davis Junior rub elbows with Democrats for the cameras in a ploy to distract from John F. Kennedy’s meager progress on civil rights—felt par for the political course, other instances gave me pause.
Here’s one: In 1963, confronted by the knowledge that his movement was in danger of fading away due to a distracted public and a federal government refusing to intervene on states’ Jim Crow rulings, Martin Luther King Junior approved the plans for the Birmingham “children’s crusade.” On May 2, 1963, hundreds of children poured onto a plaza. At the end of two days, many were jailed and “photographers had snapped hundreds of pictures of German shepherds, their teeth sinking into young boys and girls.”
Just to recap: MLK, the “I have a dream” guy, sent kids to battle with angry policemen and big dogs. (Risen, by the way, does not react to this with the surprise I felt, probably because he is the author of an entire book related to King, and knows many things about him that aren’t inspirational quotes posted to Facebook.)
In the wake of the incident, Attorney General Burke Marshall publicly denounced the move, saying, “An injured, maimed or dead child is a price that none of us can afford.” Other politicians, however, turned their criticism toward the Birmingham police. The story and images from the event galvanized the civil rights movement, caused demonstrations to spark around the country and led key players, including Marshall, to realize that federal legislation was needed. Whether or not the means justified the ends, they were successful in achieving them
Here’s another item that I didn’t learn in A.P. history: The historic showdown between George Wallace and Deputy Attorney General Nicolas Katzenbach at the University of Alabama was rigged. “Wallace, [Katzenbach] realized... might believe his racist convictions, but acted on them mostly to appease voters. Katzenbach would go to Tuscaloosa himself... let Wallace have his show, then insist on escorting the students to register. Wallace, through a back channel,... told Kennedy he would comply.”
The first third of the Bill of the Century—which runs some 290 pages including 40 pages of citations—depicts events leading up to the introduction of the Civil Rights Bill in June 1963. The final two-thirds details the tactics and maneuvers required to push the bill through —in back rooms, on the streets and on the Senate and House floors. Although no summary could be sufficient, Risen’s recounting of a memo written by Katzenbach to Robert Kennedy during the early life of the bill might give a sense of what was involved:
Despite this, I recommend The Bill of the Century. “The story of the civil rights bill,” says Risen “is about the interplay between elected officials, government officials, lobbyists, and countless thousands of activists around the country, pushing and pulling each other toward their common goal.” That story, with all its details, dramas and complexities, is what Risen delivers.
Bill of the Century: The Epic Battle for the Civil Rights Act
According to Clay Risen, we tend to credit the achievement of the Civil Rights Act to Lyndon B. Johnson and Martin Luther King, Jr. largely because theirs are the names and stories with which we are familiar. Risen is kind enough to include himself in the “we” but I suspect he doesn’t actually belong there. I, however, do. In a word association game, I would complete “Emancipation Proclamation” with “Abraham Lincoln” and the “The New Deal” with “FDR,” because those are the only names I know. If there were more in my high school A.P. history study guide, I don’t remember them.
Unfortunately, Risen notes, our tendency to assign credit in such a simplified manner is both unfair and inaccurate. “The idea that either King or Johnson was the dominant figure behind the Civil Rights Act,” he writes, “distorts not only the history of the act but the process of American legislative policymaking in general.”
In The Bill of the Century: The Epic Battle for the Civil Rights Act, Risen sets out to correct that distortion by presenting us with the literary equivalent to a “making of,” documentary, beginning in early 1963, a point during John F. Kennedy’s term at which civil rights legislation was at low ebb, and tracing the gradual rise of tide leading to the signing of the Civil Rights Bill on July 2, 1964.
A work that sets out to reframe historical events can’t help but shine a light on the fact that any view of history is a result of framing. Maybe this is why I found myself drawn to the moments in the book that revealed how players strove to frame events even as they were happening. While some examples of this—like a gala White House reception where Langston Hughes and Sammy Davis Junior rub elbows with Democrats for the cameras in a ploy to distract from John F. Kennedy’s meager progress on civil rights—felt par for the political course, other instances gave me pause.
Here’s one: In 1963, confronted by the knowledge that his movement was in danger of fading away due to a distracted public and a federal government refusing to intervene on states’ Jim Crow rulings, Martin Luther King Junior approved the plans for the Birmingham “children’s crusade.” On May 2, 1963, hundreds of children poured onto a plaza. At the end of two days, many were jailed and “photographers had snapped hundreds of pictures of German shepherds, their teeth sinking into young boys and girls.”
Just to recap: MLK, the “I have a dream” guy, sent kids to battle with angry policemen and big dogs. (Risen, by the way, does not react to this with the surprise I felt, probably because he is the author of an entire book related to King, and knows many things about him that aren’t inspirational quotes posted to Facebook.)
In the wake of the incident, Attorney General Burke Marshall publicly denounced the move, saying, “An injured, maimed or dead child is a price that none of us can afford.” Other politicians, however, turned their criticism toward the Birmingham police. The story and images from the event galvanized the civil rights movement, caused demonstrations to spark around the country and led key players, including Marshall, to realize that federal legislation was needed. Whether or not the means justified the ends, they were successful in achieving them
Here’s another item that I didn’t learn in A.P. history: The historic showdown between George Wallace and Deputy Attorney General Nicolas Katzenbach at the University of Alabama was rigged. “Wallace, [Katzenbach] realized... might believe his racist convictions, but acted on them mostly to appease voters. Katzenbach would go to Tuscaloosa himself... let Wallace have his show, then insist on escorting the students to register. Wallace, through a back channel,... told Kennedy he would comply.”
The first third of the Bill of the Century—which runs some 290 pages including 40 pages of citations—depicts events leading up to the introduction of the Civil Rights Bill in June 1963. The final two-thirds details the tactics and maneuvers required to push the bill through —in back rooms, on the streets and on the Senate and House floors. Although no summary could be sufficient, Risen’s recounting of a memo written by Katzenbach to Robert Kennedy during the early life of the bill might give a sense of what was involved:
“If the goal was to get the bill intact through the Senate, then a filibuster was inevitable—which meant they needed 67 votes to stop debate and bring the bill to a vote.... The only way to do that.... was to get [Senate Minority Leader Everett] Dirksen on board.... Because Katzenbach could then take Dirksen’s support of the bill to the House Republicans, who were open to civil rights but wary of siding with legislation that might get pared back in the Senate. Dirksen, of course, did not support Title II, but Katzenbach hoped that his support on everything else could give momentum to the bill in the House, and that by the time it reached the Senate, Dirksen would have to choose between agreeing to the entire bill or standing in the way of historic legislation.”If it sounds complex and confusing, it is. Risen, an accomplished journalist and author of A Nation on Fire, America in the Wake of the King Assassination, admirably manages to introduce and contextualize dozens of individuals—senators, congressmen, and myriad civilian activists—as well as organizations and political factions, but the density of information he is delivering can make for strenuous reading. I’ve no doubt been spoiled by textbooks and George R.R. Martin novels, but by page 150 I would have been grateful for a fold-out timeline, a tree graph showing all the characters and their affiliations, and maybe a cheat-sheet with acronyms and their translations.
Despite this, I recommend The Bill of the Century. “The story of the civil rights bill,” says Risen “is about the interplay between elected officials, government officials, lobbyists, and countless thousands of activists around the country, pushing and pulling each other toward their common goal.” That story, with all its details, dramas and complexities, is what Risen delivers.
Saturday, February 01, 2014
Lovely and Amazing, Singles
I forgot, when writing my first "movies of 2014" post, that I had also watched Lovely and Amazing, which
is the second movie by writer-director Nicole Holocener, made in 2001
(her latest effort, is buzzing during this current awards season). The
story (of Lovely and Amazing) revolves around a mother and her three
daughters, two adult, and one younger and adopted. They are each kind
of insecure and fucked up in different ways. Each daughter has acquired
some different aspect of the mother's insecurity and fucked-upness
integrated it into her own personality and functioning. But everyone is
likeable and you hope they can pull it together. It's a comedy. Of
sorts.
Lovely and Amazing is one of my friend Nikki's very favorite movies, and I had been trying to see it for a while, and while you'd think that since we have expensive cable, iTunes, Netflix-streaming, Hulu-Plus, and five library cards, it would not be difficult to do so. In the end though, with a heavy heart, I added the lowest level of DVD rentals back onto my Netflix account. Grrrrr.
But this is also how I also obtained another movie on my list:
Singles. This was a 1992 film by written and directed by Cameron Crowe about a group of 20-somethings and their quest for identity and love. Most of them live in the same apartment complex in Seattle. The movie was actually finished in early '91, but the studio didn't know how to market it until some of the Seattle grunge bands featured in the film became very popular nationally, thus it was released in late '92. Some credit the film with kicking off a number of Generation X films soon after. (All this information comes from the same Wikipedia page that I have linked to...I'm learning along with you!) You might know some of Cameron Crowe's other work, especially if you are close to my age--Say Anything with John Cusack in 1989, Jerry Maguire, Almost Famous, and most recently, We Bought A Zoo, which I haven't seen.
The original title for this post was "2 movies, 2 books, 2 evenings." But I'm only a third of the way through, and it's time to leave for yoga. So look forward to an upcoming post about two books. I might or might not get to the evenings.
Lovely and Amazing is one of my friend Nikki's very favorite movies, and I had been trying to see it for a while, and while you'd think that since we have expensive cable, iTunes, Netflix-streaming, Hulu-Plus, and five library cards, it would not be difficult to do so. In the end though, with a heavy heart, I added the lowest level of DVD rentals back onto my Netflix account. Grrrrr.
But this is also how I also obtained another movie on my list:
Singles. This was a 1992 film by written and directed by Cameron Crowe about a group of 20-somethings and their quest for identity and love. Most of them live in the same apartment complex in Seattle. The movie was actually finished in early '91, but the studio didn't know how to market it until some of the Seattle grunge bands featured in the film became very popular nationally, thus it was released in late '92. Some credit the film with kicking off a number of Generation X films soon after. (All this information comes from the same Wikipedia page that I have linked to...I'm learning along with you!) You might know some of Cameron Crowe's other work, especially if you are close to my age--Say Anything with John Cusack in 1989, Jerry Maguire, Almost Famous, and most recently, We Bought A Zoo, which I haven't seen.
The original title for this post was "2 movies, 2 books, 2 evenings." But I'm only a third of the way through, and it's time to leave for yoga. So look forward to an upcoming post about two books. I might or might not get to the evenings.
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
2014 Movies, Part I
or, Get Out While You Can...
I've noticed, and am gratified, that a few of my readers (hi Mom!) have this blog sent to their in-boxes. That can be really good for following a blogger who is sporadic and not too prolific in her output, which generally does describe me. But I feel I should warn you that I am having some "thoughts." Thoughts like, I should keep a record of all the movies I see this year. And maybe all the books I read this year. I could do that on my blog! And maybe, when I have some interesting notes from a class, or little writing exercises..."There is the possibility, of course, that everything I post will be FASCINATING. And just as distinct a possibility that I will get busy and that little of this will really come to pass, but just in case the first thing doesn't happen and the second thing does, you should know that when you start to cringe when checking your inbox, it's okay to UNSUBSCRIBE I'm not actually sure how to do that, but I'll figure it out and write the directions in a post. I just wanted to let you know it might come to that, and say that I won't be offended...
That being said, I am off to a late start on this movie thing, I think I've probably already forgotten a film or two since the first of the year, but the ones I remember are:
HUNGER GAMES, CATCHING FIRE: Enjoyable. Paul asked an interesting question after, which is, could it stand alone as a film if you hadn't seen (or read) the first installment? (Screenplay written by Simon Beaufoy, who wrote (among other things) SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE, and Michael Arndt, who wrote (among other things) LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE.)
HER: Awesome. Really lovely. Written by Spike Jonze, who also directed. This is the first screenplay he's written that I love, but it feels in kinship with two Charlie Kaufman written movies that he directed and that I really like: ADAPTATION and BEING JOHN MALKOVICH.
- In the Mood for Love
FALLEN ANGELS: Also Wong Kar Wai. I'm only half way through it.
GLORIA: Just saw this yesterday as part of the Film Independent screening series for their Spirit Awards. From Chile, about an older woman who is a mother and a grandmother, who has been divorced for a decade, who works during the day and at night goes dancing at clubs and occasionally picks up a man. She meets an older gentleman who seems to have potential, but then doesn't. She does some other stuff too. It's a little meander-y by conventional movie standards, but I liked it.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
When Most of Your Life is a Festival
Know where I am not this weekend? At Sundance. Whenever I open
Wordpress to write a post like this one, I am immediately confronted by
a conveyer belt of newsfeeds, many of which are from "trades," like
Variety and The Hollywood reporter. I'm drawn to the reviews and
descriptions of the movies that are opening at Sundance. Reading them, I
have mixed feelings. I went once, a few years ago, and there is
something about seeing a film at a festival. There is something about
seeing a film at a festival, being in the audience for a film that
hasn't been seen anywhere else the moment before a film begins--a
feeling of closeness, camaraderie, excitement and hope. A collective
feeling of hope that the experience will be good, that the film will be
good, that you will discover something together.
But there are lots of other moments too--moments in line, realizing you won't get in. Moments of being really cold, walking up long hills because the people who booked the shared condominiums refused to tell you how really far away from the festival they were. Feeling isolated and pretty worked over from the "networking" on buses, in theater lobbies and at parties, the where people look past you for more interesting prospects, the knowledge that I was sometimes looking over someone's shoulder too. Not because I have the savvy to recognize anyone important, but because the neediness of the person in front of you can feel like an undertow, and when that happens, you look in every direction for shore.
So, overall, mixed feelings about not being at Sundance this year. Sad to miss it, and NOT sad to be missing it.
The librarian of the Philosophy library upstairs from where I work loves the opera and ballet, and music and movies. When I ask about his weekend he'll often say, in a still-thick Chicago twang (despite the fact he has lived in Southern California since before I was born), "Barrington, I'll tell ya', I saw a great movie!" Or, "Barrington, I'll tell ya', that orchestra was spectacular!" When I ask about his upcoming weekend, he usually seems happy with his plans, and equally happy without plans. This weekend after Friday night, "I don't have anything going on! I've got two days to just read, and listen to some music. It's gonna be great!"
And really, what is greater than that? In high school and college, a new CD or two in your hands or a friend's was entertainment for an evening at least. In my 20s, a movie night with rented videos was a fully-formed activity.
A package of a dozen screeners for the Independent Spirit Awards showed up my mailbox this week, and I have the option to attend nine different screening this weekend. This is in addition to our Netflix, Hulu and cable package. We have a hundred CDs and iTunes and Spotify...
...and somehow all this feels incidental and interstitial. Everything is a thing that one crams in between other things...
This weekend however, I'm working to pare down the things, and appreciate each one as I'm doing it. Today I cleared the calendar for the afternoon and spent several consecutive hours reading. Reading is a luxurious experience in itself, one I have enjoyed since I was six. Granted it's because I need to finish a three-hundred page book of historical non-fiction in time to write a thousand-word book review for Tuesday, but still--
Related post: Review of movie I would be interested in seeing: http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/review/i-origins-sundance-review-672274
But there are lots of other moments too--moments in line, realizing you won't get in. Moments of being really cold, walking up long hills because the people who booked the shared condominiums refused to tell you how really far away from the festival they were. Feeling isolated and pretty worked over from the "networking" on buses, in theater lobbies and at parties, the where people look past you for more interesting prospects, the knowledge that I was sometimes looking over someone's shoulder too. Not because I have the savvy to recognize anyone important, but because the neediness of the person in front of you can feel like an undertow, and when that happens, you look in every direction for shore.
So, overall, mixed feelings about not being at Sundance this year. Sad to miss it, and NOT sad to be missing it.
The librarian of the Philosophy library upstairs from where I work loves the opera and ballet, and music and movies. When I ask about his weekend he'll often say, in a still-thick Chicago twang (despite the fact he has lived in Southern California since before I was born), "Barrington, I'll tell ya', I saw a great movie!" Or, "Barrington, I'll tell ya', that orchestra was spectacular!" When I ask about his upcoming weekend, he usually seems happy with his plans, and equally happy without plans. This weekend after Friday night, "I don't have anything going on! I've got two days to just read, and listen to some music. It's gonna be great!"
And really, what is greater than that? In high school and college, a new CD or two in your hands or a friend's was entertainment for an evening at least. In my 20s, a movie night with rented videos was a fully-formed activity.
A package of a dozen screeners for the Independent Spirit Awards showed up my mailbox this week, and I have the option to attend nine different screening this weekend. This is in addition to our Netflix, Hulu and cable package. We have a hundred CDs and iTunes and Spotify...
...and somehow all this feels incidental and interstitial. Everything is a thing that one crams in between other things...
This weekend however, I'm working to pare down the things, and appreciate each one as I'm doing it. Today I cleared the calendar for the afternoon and spent several consecutive hours reading. Reading is a luxurious experience in itself, one I have enjoyed since I was six. Granted it's because I need to finish a three-hundred page book of historical non-fiction in time to write a thousand-word book review for Tuesday, but still--
Related post: Review of movie I would be interested in seeing: http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/review/i-origins-sundance-review-672274
Friday, November 29, 2013
Good Movies that Can Do Good...At the Box Office
Holiday Box Office: The Battle for the Over-35s.
This is the headline of an article I just came across from the
Hollywood Reporter talking about how "adult" (and by adult, they mean
age, and not porn) dramas are getting some play--at least in the two
months before the Oscars. That it seems to happen almost exclusively
then, is something that bears some consideration, but I'm supposed to be
writing MY adult dramedy at this moment, so I'll just link and leave!
Friday, September 06, 2013
It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Loses a Breast
So the other day on Facebook, I saw that my friend "Amanda" was going
to Costa Rica for 11 months. I congratulated her in the comments
section. The next day, "Jodie" wrote that she was moving to London for two years, and some time later "Kris" said she’d be in the Dominican Republic for three months.
I was happy for them, but was also a little...daunted. Here I was, glued to my day job, trying to write, addicted to Bejeweled Blitz even as I daydream about having a more meaningful life—doing more, being better somehow. And here my friends were actually doing it. Their statuses didn’t provide details, but I imagined: Saving the rainforest? Writing novels? Building houses for orphans?
And then I got a direct message from Amanda saying, “I’m not really going to Costa Rica.” She forwarded a message that explained it all. It began:
It's that time of year again...support of breast cancer awareness!
--and then went on to describe the “game” –a self-professed follow up the classic “what color is you bra” meme of 2010, and others that followed—which would build solidarity among women and show the world what we could accomplish with just our Facebook statuses.
For the 2013 version, I should select a place (from a list) according to the month I was born, and then match the day I was born to a number of months so that,
If your birthday is 21st January, YOUR STATUS SHOULD READ: "I am going to Mexico for 21 months.
I should then forward these secret instructions only to my girlfriends, and not tell any males what the status means. And finally, the message implored:
Please do it, don't be a spoil sport, show your awareness!!!
Oh. So no rainforests, no novels. Maybe I should feel relieved. They were just playing a game. A game that I could play too. In fact, a game I needed to play, because even if I’m an underachieving flash-game addict, at least I’m not a spoil sport. Spoil sports are the worst, aren’t they? Ugh.
If I were a spoil sport, which I’m not, or if I were the type of person to confront my friends in their comment boxes, their direct mail boxes, or (inconceivably) in person, which I also am not though I sometimes wish I was, here are a few points I might make:
First, there is no one left—at least among your mostly American, middle-class, female Facebook-using friends—who is unaware of breast cancer. There was a time when raising awareness about breast cancer was important. And it was fun to be part of that. But it’s over now. Breast cancer’s existence, unlike God’s, is not in dispute. But you already understand this, right? Because you use the awkward phrase “support of breast cancer awareness!” Really? “Yeah, we’re showing our support for the fact that we’re already aware of breast cancer, and, uh, breast cancer awareness, yay!” Be embarrassed.
Secondly, if there were anyone left on the Facebook-earth unaware of breast cancer, it might be a man. Why create an awareness meme that excludes half the population? Men have sisters, daughters, mothers, girlfriends and wives. Men can get breast cancer too.
Thirdly...the spoil sport thing. At the level of intentionality, this is worse than the inane cancer awareness thing. Emotionally bullying your friends into sharing your crappy meme or post by linking said crappy material to a cause is vile and wrong. Stop inferring that your friends are spoil sports. Stop accusing them of “not really caring enough” or “not being courageous enough” about autism or depression or whatever to click a share button. Stop appropriating my cancer to push other people around. Just. Stop. Also—and I’m telling you this as a favor—you’re alienating your friends, even if they can’t bring themselves to tell you.
However, if you really care about breast cancer, there is a part for you to play. Cancer still needs awareness—but it needs awareness of its complexities. There are a lot of choices we have to make as patrons, as consumers, as advocates for our own health: from whether to get a mammogram to which pink-clad products we should or shouldn't buy to what political policies we should support. None of these are simple issues and tackling them isn’t exactly “fun.” Trying to keep up with all the information out there is like trying to navigate that health insurance paperwork that never stops coming. So for me, having friends help with the ongoing research by posting articles or factoids is actually helpful. Even if it sparks discussion. Even if that discussion gets heated. There is value in building solidarity around women’s issues, but I’ll feel greater solidarity with women who strive to think critically than those who insist on continuing to treat breast cancer like a sorority event. I think we can do more, be better.
(Barrington is a two-time cancer veteran. Neither time was breast cancer, though many of her friends assume that it was because AWARENESS.)
I was happy for them, but was also a little...daunted. Here I was, glued to my day job, trying to write, addicted to Bejeweled Blitz even as I daydream about having a more meaningful life—doing more, being better somehow. And here my friends were actually doing it. Their statuses didn’t provide details, but I imagined: Saving the rainforest? Writing novels? Building houses for orphans?
And then I got a direct message from Amanda saying, “I’m not really going to Costa Rica.” She forwarded a message that explained it all. It began:
It's that time of year again...support of breast cancer awareness!
--and then went on to describe the “game” –a self-professed follow up the classic “what color is you bra” meme of 2010, and others that followed—which would build solidarity among women and show the world what we could accomplish with just our Facebook statuses.
For the 2013 version, I should select a place (from a list) according to the month I was born, and then match the day I was born to a number of months so that,
If your birthday is 21st January, YOUR STATUS SHOULD READ: "I am going to Mexico for 21 months.
I should then forward these secret instructions only to my girlfriends, and not tell any males what the status means. And finally, the message implored:
Please do it, don't be a spoil sport, show your awareness!!!
Oh. So no rainforests, no novels. Maybe I should feel relieved. They were just playing a game. A game that I could play too. In fact, a game I needed to play, because even if I’m an underachieving flash-game addict, at least I’m not a spoil sport. Spoil sports are the worst, aren’t they? Ugh.
If I were a spoil sport, which I’m not, or if I were the type of person to confront my friends in their comment boxes, their direct mail boxes, or (inconceivably) in person, which I also am not though I sometimes wish I was, here are a few points I might make:
First, there is no one left—at least among your mostly American, middle-class, female Facebook-using friends—who is unaware of breast cancer. There was a time when raising awareness about breast cancer was important. And it was fun to be part of that. But it’s over now. Breast cancer’s existence, unlike God’s, is not in dispute. But you already understand this, right? Because you use the awkward phrase “support of breast cancer awareness!” Really? “Yeah, we’re showing our support for the fact that we’re already aware of breast cancer, and, uh, breast cancer awareness, yay!” Be embarrassed.
Secondly, if there were anyone left on the Facebook-earth unaware of breast cancer, it might be a man. Why create an awareness meme that excludes half the population? Men have sisters, daughters, mothers, girlfriends and wives. Men can get breast cancer too.
Thirdly...the spoil sport thing. At the level of intentionality, this is worse than the inane cancer awareness thing. Emotionally bullying your friends into sharing your crappy meme or post by linking said crappy material to a cause is vile and wrong. Stop inferring that your friends are spoil sports. Stop accusing them of “not really caring enough” or “not being courageous enough” about autism or depression or whatever to click a share button. Stop appropriating my cancer to push other people around. Just. Stop. Also—and I’m telling you this as a favor—you’re alienating your friends, even if they can’t bring themselves to tell you.
However, if you really care about breast cancer, there is a part for you to play. Cancer still needs awareness—but it needs awareness of its complexities. There are a lot of choices we have to make as patrons, as consumers, as advocates for our own health: from whether to get a mammogram to which pink-clad products we should or shouldn't buy to what political policies we should support. None of these are simple issues and tackling them isn’t exactly “fun.” Trying to keep up with all the information out there is like trying to navigate that health insurance paperwork that never stops coming. So for me, having friends help with the ongoing research by posting articles or factoids is actually helpful. Even if it sparks discussion. Even if that discussion gets heated. There is value in building solidarity around women’s issues, but I’ll feel greater solidarity with women who strive to think critically than those who insist on continuing to treat breast cancer like a sorority event. I think we can do more, be better.
(Barrington is a two-time cancer veteran. Neither time was breast cancer, though many of her friends assume that it was because AWARENESS.)
Random articles about more pink stuff rolling off the conveyor belt:
- PDC Announces New Silicone Wristbands to Promote National Breast Cancer Awareness Month (prweb.com)
- Raising Funds for Breast Cancer Research (customizedgirl.com)
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Acceptance and Rejection
Got an essay accepted by The Drum.
It's an online literary magazine that is all audio--so you listen to
all their pieces instead of reading them. Which is particularly cool
for this piece, which I have always like reading aloud. When you submit
though, you do it on paper. If they accept you, then you make a
recording. So I'll be making a recording sometime soon, and when the
issue I'm in is published, I'll let you know!
Did not progress to the second round of the Sundance Screenwriters Lab. Not surprised, so not disappointed, except for a little bit. The little bit disappointed happened because of the little bit of unreasonable hope I allowed to creep in when my rejection letter didn't arrive by their self-imposed deadline. I had to email, then call, for my rejection letter, four days after that date. In the past, with Fellowships etc, I haven't bothered, but since I'm working on boundaries, I've decided it's rude to skip the response portion. When a person spends $35 and 12-20 hours of their life putting together materials, and you've promised you were going to respond, then you owe them a form rejection email telling them the competition was particularly tough this year, and that many deserving applicants were also refused.
So I called and left a message, and soon after received my email.
The upside is that I was using their response date a a target for a close-to-finished draft, and as a result I do have a close-to-finished draft.
Did not progress to the second round of the Sundance Screenwriters Lab. Not surprised, so not disappointed, except for a little bit. The little bit disappointed happened because of the little bit of unreasonable hope I allowed to creep in when my rejection letter didn't arrive by their self-imposed deadline. I had to email, then call, for my rejection letter, four days after that date. In the past, with Fellowships etc, I haven't bothered, but since I'm working on boundaries, I've decided it's rude to skip the response portion. When a person spends $35 and 12-20 hours of their life putting together materials, and you've promised you were going to respond, then you owe them a form rejection email telling them the competition was particularly tough this year, and that many deserving applicants were also refused.
So I called and left a message, and soon after received my email.
The upside is that I was using their response date a a target for a close-to-finished draft, and as a result I do have a close-to-finished draft.
Friday, June 28, 2013
A Letter a Week
Dear Person Reading This,
I want to write about the many things I've been reading (at the cost of writing), but since I'm at work, I'll be brief(er) and just mention the newest thing I'm going to be reading: Emails from folks like Lena Dunham, Etgar Keret and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar courtesy of film-maker and eclectic artist Miranda July as part of her newest project: We Think Alone.
I will be receiving a letter a week for the next twenty weeks on different topics. (Next week's topic is money.)
As I understand it, these won't be custom letters. Instead, Miranda
gives the participants the topic, and they have to cull through their
mail boxes to look for emails they have already sent to other
people that incorporate these topics. So it's like getting to read
someone's email, with their permission--and the added bonus that the
someone happens to be famous.
If you want to get the emails too, you can sign up here.
Or, if you prefer to get emails that are actually written for you, albeit by somebody who isn't famous, there should be a button on the right-hand side bar of this blog that says something like "follow." You can sign up to have my personal ruminations, reading recaps and typographical errors sent directly to your inbox, just like a letter. When I write a post, it feels like a letter. I like writing letters. You should only do it it you like getting letters, and think they make a nice break from LinkedIn invites and Living Social deals.
Love,
Barrington
P.S. Here's another article about the project from the Atlantic, and also a free PDF download of an Etgar Keret short story (only three pages).
I want to write about the many things I've been reading (at the cost of writing), but since I'm at work, I'll be brief(er) and just mention the newest thing I'm going to be reading: Emails from folks like Lena Dunham, Etgar Keret and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar courtesy of film-maker and eclectic artist Miranda July as part of her newest project: We Think Alone.
- Kareem Abdul-Jabbar writing you a letter. Not really. It's a book signing. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
If you want to get the emails too, you can sign up here.
Or, if you prefer to get emails that are actually written for you, albeit by somebody who isn't famous, there should be a button on the right-hand side bar of this blog that says something like "follow." You can sign up to have my personal ruminations, reading recaps and typographical errors sent directly to your inbox, just like a letter. When I write a post, it feels like a letter. I like writing letters. You should only do it it you like getting letters, and think they make a nice break from LinkedIn invites and Living Social deals.
Love,
Barrington
P.S. Here's another article about the project from the Atlantic, and also a free PDF download of an Etgar Keret short story (only three pages).
Wednesday, June 05, 2013
What I'm Watching / Reading
Reading: Just finished Jay Antani's The Leaving of Things, about a young Indian man who has spent most of his life in Wisconsin but is forced to return to India with his family when his father takes a job there. It's set in the 80s, and really manages to evoke time and place, mostly in India, but also the scenes that are set back in the United States. I guess you might call it a YA novel, as the narrator is a young adult, but the book is so beautifully written and elegiac that the term seems reductive--people don't categorize Eugenides' The Marriage Plot or Marukami's Norwegian Wood as YA fiction, as far as I know (do they?). Anyway, I really enjoyed and recommend The Leaving of Things.
(Also, the 2.99 price tag on the Kindle version is a steal. It's an interesting price point for a book--when I see something so inexpensive, I do look at it with some suspicion, and and if I don't have any other information at all, I'm likely to pass it by. But it's low enough that if I've heard anything good I'm willing to take a chance much faster than I would at $9.99. In this, I had met the writer, so took the chance and was very glad that I did.)
Watching: What I'm watching is research related. I met another writer, Janice Roshalle Littlejohn, through my MPW program. She's written a book called Swirling, about interracial dating and relationships, and has been approached about making a fictional screenplay based on material in the book (maybe the way the non-fiction book Queen Bees and Wannabes was the basis for Mean Girls), We're going to meet and talk about her outline for the script. I'm just a consulting, (you know, because I've been to film school and stuff) but I think it's pretty fascinating, so I've been watching films that deal with that subject matter. I haven't had time yet to go back to some older ones I've seen in the past, like Look Who's Coming to Dinner and Jungle Fever, but I've re-watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and watched for the first time Crash, and Something New. They aren't all perfect films, but they each have something to contribute to the conversation, and they make you realize even though mixing is happening all around us, it's not really a conversation you see in too many movies--at least not in depth. I'm looking forward to seeing where the project goes!
Sunday, December 16, 2012
West of Memphis
I saw a screening of West of Memphis the other night--a documentary about three teenagers who were convicted killing three children back in 1994, and about a criminal justice system that seems committed to maintaining the status quo even at the cost of innocent peoples' lives.
There was a Q and A afterwards. Having been in Los Angeles for awhile, I am fairly used to seeing actors sitting in front of the screen after a movie, talking about portraying other people. I don't usually bother to take pictures. But it was strangely affecting to see Damien Echols on the stage, and to think--this isn't an actor. This is a person who was imprisoned for 18 years for a crime he didn't commit. He spent 18 years in prison, and now he's on this stage, answering questions. It was kinda surreal, and I wanted to remember it, so I took this blurry overexposed picture with my phone.
It was a good movie. If you get a chance, you should see it.
There was a Q and A afterwards. Having been in Los Angeles for awhile, I am fairly used to seeing actors sitting in front of the screen after a movie, talking about portraying other people. I don't usually bother to take pictures. But it was strangely affecting to see Damien Echols on the stage, and to think--this isn't an actor. This is a person who was imprisoned for 18 years for a crime he didn't commit. He spent 18 years in prison, and now he's on this stage, answering questions. It was kinda surreal, and I wanted to remember it, so I took this blurry overexposed picture with my phone.
It was a good movie. If you get a chance, you should see it.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
TV vs Film in the Privacy of Your Own Home
Currently there are four seasons of Mad Men on Netflix.
I've always figured it would be one of those series that would be fun to plow through hours at a time when the opportunity presented itself, and with my recent illness and end of my writing project, I thought the time was right.
I'm halfway through season two, and it has been fun, but I've discovered this: Watching lots of television drama, even the shows I really like, makes me kind of depressed, while watching movies, even ones that I don't think are particularly good, does not usually have the same effect.
I'm guessing it's because television shows make one want a kind of arc for the characters, but as an audience member ones desires are always frustrated--always pushed into an indefinite future. Another way of saying this is that it is hard to watch the characters make bad choices episode after episode, and grow (if they do) at a glacial pace. (If I want to see continued self-deception, I have ample opportunity in my real life.) In the past, a separation of a week probably mitigated my feelings--not so when I have four seasons at my disposal. No doubt there is a rush of satisfaction at hitting "next episode," akin to being able to reach for another chocolate after the first--but in both cases, I fear the lack of portion control isn't the best for me in the long run.
Which is why I have temporarily abandoned Peggy and Don for the movies, where, in most cases, people realize their mistakes and make changes, they live through their tragedies and move on. I understand that one might actually consider this a flaw, citing Hollywood's penchant for happy endings, but I'm talking just about my own personal mood control here.
The other night, when I felt the cravings for Mad Men, I substituted with an On-Demand movie...Larry Crowne. Wow, if there was ever a movie made to go straight to video, this was it. but even though I cringed at the too-easiness of Larry's sudden relationships and life changes, I was inspired in spite of myself...and as the credits rolled, I didn't feel an uncontrollable desire to see another episode of Larry Crowne. The experience was incredibly complete.
I'm halfway through season two, and it has been fun, but I've discovered this: Watching lots of television drama, even the shows I really like, makes me kind of depressed, while watching movies, even ones that I don't think are particularly good, does not usually have the same effect.
I'm guessing it's because television shows make one want a kind of arc for the characters, but as an audience member ones desires are always frustrated--always pushed into an indefinite future. Another way of saying this is that it is hard to watch the characters make bad choices episode after episode, and grow (if they do) at a glacial pace. (If I want to see continued self-deception, I have ample opportunity in my real life.) In the past, a separation of a week probably mitigated my feelings--not so when I have four seasons at my disposal. No doubt there is a rush of satisfaction at hitting "next episode," akin to being able to reach for another chocolate after the first--but in both cases, I fear the lack of portion control isn't the best for me in the long run.
Which is why I have temporarily abandoned Peggy and Don for the movies, where, in most cases, people realize their mistakes and make changes, they live through their tragedies and move on. I understand that one might actually consider this a flaw, citing Hollywood's penchant for happy endings, but I'm talking just about my own personal mood control here.
The other night, when I felt the cravings for Mad Men, I substituted with an On-Demand movie...Larry Crowne. Wow, if there was ever a movie made to go straight to video, this was it. but even though I cringed at the too-easiness of Larry's sudden relationships and life changes, I was inspired in spite of myself...and as the credits rolled, I didn't feel an uncontrollable desire to see another episode of Larry Crowne. The experience was incredibly complete.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Movie Follow-up
You may remember that last weekend I was excited to see Prometheus. I saw it. I became less excited. I could tell you why--but I could not tell you why as articulately and entertainingly as does the Hinx Minx in her review.
I was also excited to see Safety Not Guaranteed, by the Duplass brothers, and indeed, I left the theater satisfied enough. But the movies that have really inspired me in the last week are this one, also by Mark and Jay Duplass, which I also liked very much:
And this one,directed by Lynn Shelton, which I LOVED:
I was also excited to see Safety Not Guaranteed, by the Duplass brothers, and indeed, I left the theater satisfied enough. But the movies that have really inspired me in the last week are this one, also by Mark and Jay Duplass, which I also liked very much:
And this one,directed by Lynn Shelton, which I LOVED:
Friday, June 08, 2012
Movies this Weekend!
We have tickets to see Prometheus. I'm excited. I haven't even watched a trailer for it yet--so it will be completely new.
I'm also excited to see this move, because I am a big fan of anything Duplass.
I'm also excited to see this move, because I am a big fan of anything Duplass.
Friday, May 18, 2012
What's Up With Three-Quarter Sleeves?
To my mind, the three-quarter sleeve is the sleeve of concession. If I want a scoop neck instead of a plunging V, or a certain length or color or cut of clothing, then the Murphy's law of fashion states that the quality I desire will be available only in combination with a three-quarter sleeve.
It's hard for me to imagine any woman going shopping with the thought, I hope I find something awesome with three-quarter sleeves.
But the proliferation of three-quarter sleeves I see in print and online (if not on anyone I know) makes me consider the possibility I am wrong.
Am I?
If you are a lover of three-quarter sleeves, please respond--as I am truly curious. Are you blessed with particularly attractive wrists? Do you operate dangerous machinery snags full-length cuffs and pulls hands into its teeth?
Or do you live in some magical perfect three-quarter sleeve climate, too chilly in short sleeves, but too warm for long sleeves? A climate so perfect that the mere idea of pushing or rolling up long sleeves is repellent--all that extra material would weighing upon one's forearms, the fear that a slip of the sleeve might momentarily deprive one of the feel of that perfect balmy breeze over one's forearms?
That climate doesn't exist in Southern California. If you do happen to walk outside and experience a 73-degree moment, it's likely you are in transit to a hot car, or a refrigerated building, or, if you are planning to be outside for longer than an hour or two, you should be prepared for the temperature to rise or plummet by 20 degrees. If you ask what to wear to almost any kind of outing in SoCal--whether a hike to to trip to the mall--the most common answer is "layers."
And you know what three-quarter sleeves suck at? Layers. Pull on a fitted cardigan: the sleeves bunch above your elbows, and you have to stretch your sweater by reaching a second arm into each sleeve to adjust the three-quarter sleeve inside. How about a blazer? Nothing feels more awkward than a long sleeve blazer over a three-quarter sleeve blouse. Could you imagine a man pulling of the jacket of his power suit to reveal sleeves cropped five inches above the wrist? It would be a little ridiculous right? I feel a little ridiculous in three-quarter sleeves. How can I expect people to respect me if I can't even convince a designer to give me enough material to cover my arms? How can I "roll up my sleeves" and "get down to work" if my sleeves have been pre-cropped for me? I can no longer perform that piece of effort-proving theatrics in the conference room because the decision has been taken from my hands.
Is it possible to feel emasculated even though I'm a woman? Is there a word for that?
ADDENDUM--I put this question to Facebook, and garnered these pro-three-quarters responses:
"They're the capris for your arms. They let air in."
(I'm not a big fan of capris either)
" I own upper arms that should never see the light of day...and it gets worse as I age. I seek out the 3/4 length. "
(Leave it to my friend Genevieve to very sensible prove me wrong...)
"They are awesome for interpreting...and what Genevieve said too:)."
(From my friend who is a sign-language interpreter--coolest job ever.)
Sunday, August 21, 2011
This Just Pisses Me Off
This is a meme that has been circulating on Facebook recently:
May I ask a personal favor.....Only some of you will do it, and I know who you are. If you know someone who fought cancer and won, or fought cancer and died, or someone who is still fighting please add this to your status for 1 hour as a mark of respect and in remembrance. I hope I was right… about the people who will ♥
I am a "cancer survivor" who has both friends and family who have survived or no survived cancer--but this meme is not about showing them respect and remembrance so much as it is about the egotistical nature of whomever first posted this form of the meme, which is basically saying, "if you don't repost my message, you're obviously an asshole, and even though I'm your Facebook friend, I'm already judging you. And just in case you might call me out for being a jerk, I'm going to make this about cancer, so you can't."
I'm actually amazed anytime I see friends reposting this meme unedited. If you really care about cancer, great--it's as worthy a cause as any...but do you really want those first and last lines? You want to talk to your friends like that?
Those lines are add-ons, by the way-- the original post is an "if" statement. "If you know someone..." It's not inviting everyone to post, just those people who know people who've had cancer. So if you don't post, maybe you actually don't know anyone who's had cancer... that would be a good thing. But the add-on statement doesn't allow for that. The author hopes to be right "about the people who will (heart icon)." Which is saying that the author hopes that you know someone with cancer?
I equally hate the variant that goes something like this:
I know 97% of you guys won't put this on your wall... But 3% of my friends will... put this on your wall in honor of someone who died of cancer or is living with it.
What I want to say to the person who reposts this is:
This offends me. As a "friend" whom you are treating in a rude and deprecating manner, and as a cancer survivor you are using, without permission, to guilt other people into doing this random thing you want them to do. If some aspect of cancer awareness is an important issue to you, write something original that expresses that. If you have a message you need help spreading, ask me nicely. If you unthinkingly repost these exact words .5% of your friends may un-friend you altogether, and it will probably be me.
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