I break bones and laugh.

Tragedy is like a branding iron. Everyone who lives through it becomes a product of that tragedy. You realize you’re just a slab of meat. You might continue living your life in a fairly normal straight line, but that tragedy knows to whom you belong. You have its smoldering mark on your body.

At first the idea of grief counselors seemed absurd. "I was like, grief counselors? Really? But this is doing something to me." And that's it. It's difficult to put into words, but in the aftermath of the storm, you could feel it on you. Something had been done to you. And though I don't think of myself as seriously affected, there is a part of me that still becomes frantic when the power goes out. The anxiety is a rat racing up my nerves. It's part of the reason why it's taken me so long to write this, the followup to the storm. I don't like to think about it. I don't like to talk about it. I don't like to go back to it. But I will, just this once, and then it can't touch me again for a long time.

( Read more... )

An outtake from my trip: Since the last time I was there, they've opened a 24-hour Duane Reade in the lower level of the building. Since I love 24-hour stores with the fervor of any nocturnal creature, this was the fuckin' best. Also, having one so close was useful for things like, if your e-mail from Monthly Info said "See you in two days!" and then turned into "Hey, I got an early flight!" that afternoon. One night before dinner, I stopped there to get something to eat on the way to the restaurant. [If you have not been informed that I eat like a hobbit, consider this your notice.] I got their brownie bites and what a delight they were.

As I tottered off toward Blue Ribbon, I passed a guy who looked exactly like this, baseball cap and all. It could have been him for all I know. In any case, I feel qualified to tell you that he was checking me out. And I was like, "Mmmrprmsmmmf...these brownies are amazing!" So, sorry, Keanu, if that were you. Rain check on sad sandwiches together?

Now I'm reading Mark Reads: The Hunger Games and I had to giggle at "Flesh-eaters??? Oh man, if these are like…zombies or irradiated mutants or something worse, I will DEEPLY LOVE THIS BOOK FOR A LONG TIME." Zombies or irradiated mutants in THG? Not quite (no spoilo), but it does remind me that I read The Forest of Hands and Teeth while I was in New York. It's a lot like The Village if shit had gotten really real and the monsters in the woods were real monsters. I will continue to read the series, although I have to admit that I didn't love it. The ending just kind of putters out and I kept getting Tegan and Sara's "Ocean" stuck in my head because Mary wouldn't stop yammering on about it. Stop crying to the ocean, stop crying over zombies...

Speaking of crying, my own regarding my schoolwork, particularly the research paper on Operation Paperclip, has lessened SOMEWHAT. By a microscopic bit. But really, I've almost converted my thoughts to "I have 2-3 [depending on the class] weeks to complete these papers--better start writing!" from a constant refrain of "OH GOD I ONLY HAVE 2-3 WEEKS LEFT THIS WILL NEVER HAPPEN OH GOD OH MAN OH GOD OH MAN" right until the night before.

And now here's the part where I say that I'm going to go nap (because I should, because I'm sickly with allergische Rhinitis* or just the regular kind and I tried napping earlier this evening but I just had feverish dreams where Jake Gyllenhaal was my athletic, competitive brother whom I was trying to warn about an impending zombie attack), but really I'm going to watch The Daily Show [jk, they're on vacation] and meditate on the achingly lovely lankiness of a certain gentleman and listen to My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy (you can stop making albums this year, everyone else) and try to locate my Christmas cards.

*Because so much of the material that I'm studying is in German and I'm studying German, my thoughts tend to lapse into it, even when I don't intend it. Also, today I got annoyed because a guy next to me in class kept reading over my shoulder while I was making notes for my research paper so I wrote them all in German. There's probably a word in German for that. [Studieprivatsphäre?]

This was a week full of surprises! First, I watched the activities at Gobbler's Knob (heeheehee) live online. I watched it full screen on my monitor at work while B sat there next to me reading the paper. It was longer than I thought it would be (TWSS), mainly because there are like, 20 guys in the Inner Circle and everyone has to be introduced. Then they opened the door in the tree stump and brought forth the famous timorous beastie who, of course, saw his shadow. [Gen. Beauregard Lee, the southern version, did not see his shadow. He does, however, hold a doctorate in southern groundology. I'm jealous of a rodent's fake degree.] Some time later, B goes, "When are they going to do the groundhog thing?"

"Um, an hour ago."
"What?!"
"Yeah, it was like an hour ago. I was watching it on the computer."

She thought I'd been watching a movie. I don't know what movies she thinks I watch that involve a bunch of men in top hats handling a groundhog.

After that, I rushed home to catch the Oscar nomination press conference, which went by quickly. I have Basterds in my heart, but I'm amenable to The Hurt Locker taking the top spot. I'm undecided on Best Actor. For Best Supporting Actor, my bb Christoph Waltz, obviously. I have absolutely no opinion on the Actress categories and in fact, am kind of whelmed by the nominations. I think it speaks to the dearth of opportunities for actresses that those are the best choices they could come up with. Everything else, I'm mostly ambivalent about except I'd like The White Ribbon to win in its categories.

And then FOB maybe is/maybe isn't together anymore? Between that and NKOTB's appearance on Fallon, my inner teenager had a very tumultuous week. I am kind of bummed about it, I guess, but I've had the feeling since "What A Catch" that the end was near.

Thursday, I skipped my last class and that turned out to be a good thing because my alternator crapped out while I was careening down the interstate. My display dimmed, I noticed the wipers were slow, the radio shut off, and my speedometer plunked to zero. "Are you still able to drive normal speed?" my mom asked after I frantically called her. "I have no idea how fast I'm going!" It was a good thing that I skipped class because if I hadn't, that might have happened much later, when there would have been less help available. They sent a tow truck for me and now I'm driving the "courtesy vehicle," which is a ginormous Crown Vic. With "COURTESY VEHICLE" printed on each side. And an Auburn sticker on the back window. :(

Friday, I awoke to a call from work, asking me to come in and help fix an issue with one of the door locks. "Are you the maintenance man?" my mom asked. Yes, and tech support and human resources investigator.

In two days, my bb Lil Wayne goes to jail for a YEAR. :( x infinity. I'm not sure how this benefits society, but I'm sure someone on Twitter can misspell it for me.



Also, this week I read The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, which was excellent, and saw the movie version, Men That Hate Women, which was less than excellent. It wasn't a bad movie, but I really didn't like some of the choices they made with the story. I understand that they had to condense some of the plot, but they also made changes I was not pleased with and in some cases, didn't seem to be for any reason--like changing the names in Harriet's date book (and the numbers they corresponded with). Why? And I hate the "I'm going to break into the suspect's house to see if I can find anything" trope. What do they expect, a note on the fridge all, "Remember not to mention you killed that girl"? I also thought the characterization of Lisbeth especially was lacking compared to the book, where you get a better sense of her motivations. And man, poor Henrik. Anyway, it was well made, but I preferred the detail you get with the book

I also read Karen Russell's St. Lucy's Home For Girls Raised By Wolves*, but I'll talk more about that later, because now I have to go mine in the sleep caves.

*Now I'm reading Elizabeth Clark's thesis on female werewolves. Eee!

Dear Diary,

Yesterday I was walking to class when my earphones shorted out in one side. I was annoyed, mostly because I'd planned to pass the almost two hour gap before film class by watching a movie. Then, as I walked into the building for my first class, a few classmates of mine told me that class was canceled. The announcement had been posted to Blackboard about the same time I was getting on the interstate. It was starting to seem like a 40 degree day.

I checked the Barnes & Noble website (they're our school bookstore) to see if they had headphones. Not only did they carry my preferred brand, but they were at competitive prices. So, taking advantage of my extra time, I went across the street to the store. I was kind of peckish, so I did a quick survey of their snack items. To my surprise, the store stocks Muddy Bears, the odd little candy I've loved for years but have been unable to find outside of the internet. (Sometimes, the internet is just not as good as IRL.)

Later, in history of film class, we watched Citizen Kane because duh. I don't know why I was so down on this movie the first time I saw it. It really is the best. It's funny and beautiful and so sad. One thing I'm sort of curious about is the relationship Kane had with Mr. Leland. Maybe I'm looking at it through my modern eyes, but there seemed to be a hint of something besides friendship going on. I tried to consult the think tank at the IMDB messageboard, but I got distracted, somewhere in between the "omg so boring" and "Citizen Kane vs. Crank 2 High Voltage" threads. Anyway, upon second viewing, I really liked it.

So, despite my misgivings, it turned out to be more like a 60 degree day. And now I'm 3 weeks away from going back to NYC. And this local ad is making the internet rounds. Adjustment: 70 degree day.

1. Did I ever tell you how I got into massage? It is a very heartwarming story. A friend of mine was thinking about going to school for it and I read her brochure and thought, Well, there's an idea. The end. I've never really felt a calling toward any particular field. I mostly want to dance and hang out. I love American history and the idea of teaching it, but the realities of the American educational system are hard to ignore. I'm not saying that I have eschewed the idea entirely, but just that every time I tell people I'm majoring in history, emphasis American, and they say, "Oh, you're going to teach?"--I'm full. No more for me, thanks--I'm full. However, I think I've found the career that combines many of the things I enjoy, such as putting things right that once went wrong (they're not hiring at the Quantum Leap project, unforch) and raging patriotism (I took the inner nationality quiz on Facebook and I'm secretly an American*). And that is, the Bureau.

Me: I'm going to apply to the Bureau.
My mom: What bureau?
Me: The politburo--I'm going into Russian politics in my time machine.

Or not. I think I'm going to apply to be a G-Lady. I say "think" because I still have to finish school and who knows what number of ideas I'll have by then ("This is too hard. Let's quit and be firemen instead"). As I said, the job--I'll be applying to become a Special Agent--appeals to me on a number of levels, like its insistence on "rigorous obedience to the Constitution" and the chance to use my most unique skill set--the fact that because I'm small and giggly, many people underestimate me. They don't realize how juicy my mind grapes are, such as. Osama bin Laden, I'ma get my mind juice on you! (I am considering entering as a language specialist, specifically Arabic. So if anyone asks, don't tell them about that time at Bible camp.)

2. I've watched some movies lately. I watched S. Darko and...hmm. Maybe if there were no predecessor, I would have liked it better, but as there was a Donnie Darko, it's hard to judge S. Darko on its own merits. The fact that DD creator Richard Kelly had nothing to do with the movie is problematic to say the least. Further, as it's impossible to take in the movie without thinking about the first movie's mythology, the more you think about S. Darko, the less sense it makes. And the ending was just nonsense. Upside: I really liked Daveigh Chase's wardrobe! Sidenote: Is it true that her name is pronounced more like "duvet" ("Duh-Vay" as her wiki entry says) and not like Davey? I don't know how to feel about that.

I also watched the Norwegian horror about Nazi zombies, Død snø. [Below: I don't like this vacation anymore.]



Død snø, which focuses on a group of students on holiday at a ski cabin who inadvertently wake up some nasty spirits, was much better. It's funny, scary, and gross (there's a scene involving something utilized as a rope that I'll bet people will be talking about). It was interesting to me how it was obviously influenced by American movies--as seen in the trailer, one character even quotes, in English, Indiana Jones's "Fortune and glory, kid"--but the way the characters react to certain situations is different, I think, from how they'd react in an American movie. One example: When the random old dude shows up to lecture them on how they're spoiled brats who didn't bother to notice that the territory they're in was a Nazi supply stop, one of the characters can't help but get sarcastic about the possibility of waking up the Nazis who were trapped in an avalanche during their occupation. Random old dude grabs the kid and the rest of his friends suddenly become very interested in their shoes. In an American movie, somebody would have called the old dude an asshole, at least.

That's not to say that the characters are pushovers. It's noteworthy that this is a movie about Norwegians facing off with Nazis--La Résistance gets most of the ink, but Norway had a healthy resistance movement as well. In fact, when they first got their "On the occasion of your being occupied" note from the Third Reich, Norway's response was basically, "Fuck your face." [History pedant: *monocle adjustment* Actually, it was "We will not submit voluntarily; the struggle is already under way."] The progeny of the Norwegian resistance puts up a worthy fight as well. The character Vegard is a notable standout at this--watching him go full survivorman is awesome.

As an aside, imdb lists the following as a goof: One of the zombies...is wearing a white (snow) camouflage jacket. The jacket shows plastic parts (or is completely made out of plastic) which can only be found at modern day jackets. Maybe the zombie took it away from a earlier victim but as all the others wear "original" war gear this is supposed to be a WWII Jacket - and is way too modern. I know that logic is pretty rock-solid, but I don't agree that the jacket is a goof. The jacket doesn't just look a little bit modern--it is totally modern. I was wondering why homes was wearing a hazmat suit when he first walked into frame. He obviously stole that from a victim or the movie's wardrobe department thinks we're morons.

2b. I also watched Fox's Glee and loved it.

3. As I mentioned a few days ago, I went to see Man Man and it was awesome. I'm having trouble finding the right way to describe it (mind grapes are dry), but watching them felt inspirational. When Honus Honus climbed up on something (I couldn't see exactly) and pulled on a lady's beaded top midsong, it was a beautiful thing. I felt like I could go anywhere and do anything. I wanted to go home and paint and write and do. I wanted to go create. I've never felt anything like that when seeing a band before. I've got to see them again.

4. And one last time, thanks again to everyone for their condolences regarding my grandmother. I really am doing okay, but thanks to everyone who just had to make sure.

5. Finally, before I go watch Martyrs so I can feel ways about things with Jess, here is a collection of random things I've been looking at:

MTV's new show Fashion Strip--am I the first to make a "They Shoot Horses, Don't They?" joke?

Awkward Family Photos: Oh, man.

It's Lovely! I'll Take It!: Like Cakewrecks, but with real estate listings.

2 Birds, 1 Blog: Few people have the ability to make me laugh like Meg. I tried to read this entry to my mom and sister and couldn't get through it without laughing until I cried.

*“You are highly competitive and highly independent, although you also have an easygoing and spontaneous nature. In order to hide and mitigate just how badly you want to win, you have developed a thick veneer of friendliness — in order to lull your opponents into a false sense of security, yes, but also in order to actually tame your own natural blood lust, and most of the time it even works. Because you are so mobile and ever-changing, your friendships are always in flux, and the people who are your oldest friends may or may not accompany you all the way through life. Probably not.”

Squirt must have read the same hot/not article I read recently that listed feather headbands as out, since he helpfully mouth-destroyed mine. Now feathers keep mysteriously appearing everywhere.

What hasn't reappeared anywhere is my folder of materials that I've been using for my mixed media paintings. Oh, yes. I'm painting now. And I've had this folder of various clippings, as well as quotes from a number of sources, that I've been saving for years for some vague artistic purpose. Now I've finally figured out something to do with them--never underestimate what I'll come up with to get out of screenwriting--and I've managed to Amelia Bedelia the folder to God knows where. This folder will end up being some place I can't even imagine now, much like how I found my paintbrushes drying in my Easter basket. (You can see a sneak peek of one of my paintings here.)

I've decided to take the summer off from school. I have a lot of books to read! Also, I like my mental health. And I need a break!

Other things:

The New York Times spent 36 hours in Birmingham. I love that first picture because that is my beloved old man bar (my power animal is a grumpy old man). In fact, that may be me in the photo--I dunno, I'm drinking when I'm there. By the way, the article recommends some charcuterie thing at Hot and Hot Fish Club which sounds gaaaross--however, if you happen to visit there and it's in the summer months, you will be remiss if you do not order the tomato salad. *Homer Simpson drool*

Speaking of the Times, Randall Munroe, creator of the wonderful xkcd, appears in an article featuring a photo whose caption I will be borrowing for my bio.

I am totally going to make these. Also, Starbucks please bring back the Salted Caramel Hot Chocolate already. Or don't.

Kindertrauma: "...the movies, books, and toys that scared you when you were a kid."

Speaking of scaring children, zooby and I found hilariously disturbing some advice we read on the internet telling parents not to forget to tell children the "real story of Easter." This someecard sums up why. The real story of Easter is an "astounding horror." On that note, here's Slate's very interesting piece Why Was Jesus Crucified?: "A central statement in traditional Christian creeds is that Jesus was crucified 'under Pontius Pilate.' But the majority of Christians have only the vaguest sense what the phrase represents, and most non-Christians probably can't imagine why it's such an integral part of Christian faith...Linking Jesus' death with Pilate represents the insistence that Jesus was a real person, not merely a figure of myth or legend. More than this, the phrase also communicates concisely some pretty important specifics of that historical event. For one thing, the statement asserts that Jesus didn't simply die; he was killed. This was a young man's death in pain and public humiliation, not a peaceful end to a long life." Now who wants chocolate bunnies?!

I...don't know. There's really not a way to follow that on a high note. So I'm going to go drink sweet tea and do some writing and maybe paint. And definitely update my Facebook status. Happy birthday.

Oh, PS: If you haven't seen the (NSFW) video from which I got my icon, here 'tis:



Learning!

Yesterday I ran some errands and my first was a stop at Fred's to pick up a new can opener, since I ruined the old one in a tragic Spam musubi incident. A man was walking in as I was walking out and so he held the door for me. I thanked him and then he said, among other things, "Any time." I know that's just conversation fluff, but it made me smile to think about this guy following me around everywhere just opening doors for me. Umbrella/drink holders are so first half of the aughts.

Later at the grocery store, I was behind a woman and her young son. The boy asked for some candy, but his mom told him that he already had some of whatever it was at home and plus, it would spoil his dinner. As I was putting my stuff on the belt, I noticed a flavor of Ice Cubes gum I hadn't seen (strawberry smoothie), so I got a box of that. Then, that kid tried to sell me out! "Her got candy," he indignantly told his mother. Hmmph!

It took me a while to get out of the house because I was so exhausted from house-cleaning and rearranging Saturday. We brought my grandmother home so we had to move her into her new room and get everything else straightened up, since we now have a million people coming in and out of the house all day. (Approximately 99.9% ask me, "Hurr durr, did I wake you up?" Nah, I always stumble to the door with one eye open, hair looking like I'm the lost member of Kajagoogoo.]

It's great that she's home now, though. She's back to having her own room again. She had a roommate at the nursing home and she was okay, but I know from dorm rooms and stuff that it's nice to have your own space, control the remote, talk about what you want, etc. My mother and her brother were visiting once and she told him about the time that we heard a godawful racket coming from the woods and then the next day, my mom made me go look around to see what I could find. I found a dead bobcat, but it'd obviously had been dead longer than a night. At that point, the roommate chimed in with a "Ugh, can you shut up? My stomach is upset." My mom was like, "Oh, I'm sorry, [roommate's name]--I should've remembered that." *beat* My uncle: "SO, HOW LONG YOU THINK IT'D BEEN DEAD? WERE THERE MAGGOTS ON IT?"

I've been lazying in between studying for finals, mostly by watching Supernatural from the beginning. I also watched the trailer for this Norwegian movie about Nazi zombies that's playing at Sundance. I think the zombies look great and exponentially creepier than regular zombies--speaking of Supernatural, I was like Dean in the "Yellow Fever" episode when I watched the trailer. That was scary!

LOL, what is going on here? Lost rules, zooby! You just don't know because you don't watch it. Oh, you've seen every season? Oh...well, you're still wrong. Ron Paul '08!

Today is the vote in sf_drama for Macro of the Year and I'm having trouble picking. I think I may go with Metallicat, though. Speaking of all things chan, I found this embarrassing moment gripping and emotionally moving.

Other things I've been finding funny reading are Something Awful's Comedy Goldmine and the works of Simon Rich. A commenter at nymag.com said that he looks like Ramona Quimby, which is both hilarious and disturbing. Like that squid with elbows film that was released last month. As documented, I love cephalopods, but watching that video, I had this reaction: "Squid with elbows? Oh, cool--I love squids! So let's just pan down and see how faOH GOD IN HEAVEN WHAT IS THAT." The horror. The horror.

Nonpolitic:

In cleaning out my new bedroom, it hasn't all been bleeding arteries. I found this wee pillow when I was cleaning out the closet and it's pretty much awesome:



I got the staples taken out about a week ago and that was great. The wound had pretty much healed but the staples were pulling divots in my skin. Now the trashcan in my bathroom no longer looks like I share a place with Anton Chigurh.

"You undergraduates who see me for the first time have read your newspapers and heard on the air that I am, at the very least, an ogre — a consorter with communists, a destroyer of the rich, a breaker of our ancient traditions. You think of me perhaps as the inventor of the economic royalist, of the wicked utilities, of the money changers of the temple. You have heard for six years that I was about to plunge the nation into war; that you and your little brothers would be sent to the bloody fields of battle in Europe; that I was driving the nation into bankruptcy, and that I breakfasted every morning on a dish of 'grilled millionaire.' Actually I am an exceedingly mild mannered person—a practitioner of peace, both domestic and foreign, a believer in the capitalistic system, and for my breakfast a devotee of scrambled eggs."

Gotta go be tested on my history skillz shortly. When I get back, I should finish the next batch of scanned photos.

Feeling very optimistic. I had a terrible fit of nihilism (read: crushing depression and/or hopelessness) the other day and it was black black black. Then I saw the first five minutes of The Dark Knight and I was like, "That. I believe in that." In the meantime, my Tumblr has become sort of a chronicle of things to believe in. Reasons to be beautiful. The purpose of the moon. It is working out quite well and I have tumbled myself back into my customary optimism. "...is fear itself." Yes, this.

Albert Camus wrote that the only serious question is whether to kill yourself or not. Tom Robbins wrote that the only serious question is whether time has a beginning and an end. Camus clearly got up on the wrong side of bed, and Robbins must have forgotten to set the alarm.

There is only one serious question. And that is:

Who knows how to make love stay?

Answer me that and I will tell you whether or not to kill yourself. Answer me that and I will ease your mind about the beginning and the end of time. Answer me that and I will reveal to you the purpose of the moon.