In the zone

Multiple people have informed me that I do not post often enough. Sorry! I wish I had a more exciting life. I wish I had fewer inhibitions. I'll try to do better on both counts, so as to provide more and better blog postage.

I got up a little after 8 am this morning, and started some laundry, and am about to do more packing. Jeff is still sleeping. We're going to pack pretty much all day, although I need to eat something first.

Let's see. What has transpired since my last post?

Tuesday:
-Stayed home because of TMJ pain (I hurt from my cheekbones down to the base of my neck) and the simple fact that I absolutely could NOT go to work that day. I was done. Finished. It literally made me cry to think of going into my office and just doing work.
-Chatted with Debbie about possibilities for teaching high school and college in the spring.
-Watched an old movie, The Man in Possession. My Robert Montgomery obsession is just short of my Joel McCrea obsession, and he's such a great light comedian. This guy deserves to be remembered better than he is today!
-Packed two boxes.
-Spent a few hours with Christina.

Wednesday:
-Went to work, while self-medicating with Fall Out Boy and Blink-182, because at least my jaw was well enough to allow me to open up and eat food.
-Arrived at the office after getting coffee, because I KNEW I needed that extra chemical boost.
-Upon entering my office and turning on the computer, I saw an e-mail from Tuesday afternoon stating that there would be a dry run starting at 8 am, for the Technical Interchange Meetings that are taking place next week (Nov. 1-3). Now, I think the dry run (or better, peer review) for the TIM is a good idea, but it was short notice, even if I HAD been in the office on Tuesday, and I didn't have any charts ready. Great. Swell. Fabulous. I also had no one to present the charts, because no one had volunteered, and I will be MOVING that day, so I'm quite busy, thank you very much. I sort of bullied B into doing it, but then Cheryl stepped up to the challenge and agreed to present, thereby establishing herself as my Hero of the Week. Even so, I could actually feel my jaw tightening and increasing in pain by the minute, through the morning.
-Left work early: had to let Jeff drive to the chiropractor to get a check-up on his neck.
-Met with my Talbot proctor for my class in the Ancient Church. We discussed my potential paper topic, and the scheduling of my midterm. She turned out to be fairly nice, which is a contrast to the other time I'd dealt with her (Talbot/registrar foul-ups: a semesterly feature in Deb's life). She was all happy for me, that I'm moving to the Central Valley; in fact, she used to be on staff with Campus Crusade at CSU Fresno, so she knows it well!
-Went to Starbucks and spent a few hours chatting with my old math pupil, Susie. It was great! She's doing so well-- graduated from high school and looking into different options for further education and career. Kami was supposed to meet us there, but she didn't show up, and since I don't have her phone or e-mail, I can't really contact her to follow up. It's okay. Seeing Susie was just excellent, in and of itself. We also happened to see Josh Barber and his girlfriend (Brianna?) there.

Thursday:
-Work again. Took the bus in, and worked 10 fairly productive hours, and took the bus home.
-Utter exhaustion.
-Watched episode of Star Trek: Voyager. It was the one with Neelix and holographic lungs; so much wrong there, scientifically, that I was griping the whole time. I really need to learn to improve that "suspension of disbelief" thing.
-Last roommate night at the Feely apartment! We studied Romans 14-15, and then went in the hot tub. Good time, but sad, too.

Friday:
-Did the work thing yet again, which involved dropping Jeff off at the Park-and-Ride, and picking him up after.
-We had a little group lunch, with Killa CD, Patton Stang, and Proud Father Jim Tway. We were joined by Tina (who gets every other Friday off, thanks to her work schedule at LA DWP), and new invitee Steve B. (also a proud father, whose child was born on the same day as Jim's--weird, huh?), who brought his GMD friend Arash. We talked about everything from convertible cars (guys think they're chick magnets; I hate them) to George Takei "coming out". Good guys, good times. I even got Doug to play Blink in his car on the way over.
-Had dinner and evening fun with the Guthries. We get along really well. We ate at Panera (because no one bothered to consult me before choosing a restaurant), and then rented and watched Kung Fu Hustle. I liked Shaolin Soccer better.
-Came home really late.

This is for Rho!

Laurel requested a new post (at least one before I move), so here it is.

It is 1:30 am, and I'm still not in bed. Boo. I am actually online looking for jobs.

Today, I celebrated:
-The return of my TMJ problems. I wouldn't mind so much, except that it makes it very difficult to eat.
-The arrival of my first Netflix selection! Libeled Lady! It will be my reward for finally reaching the halfway point of my class.

Yesterday, I was busy:
-Spent the afternoon with Sara and Elizabeth. We watched My Fair Lady and Tomb Raider. I know most of the dialogue and all of the score of My Fair Lady-- relics of a misspent adolescence. Some day, I should play Eliza Doolittle on stage.
-Had dinner with John Mark and Hope Reynolds. We don't see them often enough as it is, and moving far away will be sad.
-Did homework and watched the first episodes of Star Trek Voyager. I like it better than I thought I would. Kate Mulgrew both looks and sounds like Katharine Hepburn, and I'm sure that is no coincidence.

In the past week, I have:
-Had dinner with Sherida.
-Had Essensia ice cream. This is significant only because it provoked an extended discussion about mascarpone. You see, Essensia’s gimmick is putting a phrase that reads “What’s essential is the _____” on all of their products. Some of them are self-explanatory. My very crunchy peanut butter declares, “What’s essential is the nuttiness.” The caramel swirl ice cream stated, “What’s essential is the caramel.” Okaaaaay. The ice cream in question was Berry Italian Cheesecake, or something like that, but the carton did not list berries, cream cheese, or even cake as the essential element. No, it was mascarpone. We humble US citizens had to ask, “What is mascarpone?” I guessed aloud that it was a kind of cheese, or failing that, a sort of Italian liqueur. We looked at the ingredient list, and voila!, it was indeed a kind of cheese.
-Watched Monty Python’s Meaning of Life, The Triumph of Love, Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, and several episodes of South Park (Yes, I think it's vulgar. I also think it's hysterically funny.).
-Hung out with Jeff, Laurel, and Josh.
-Gone to Grace in Long Beach. It was nice to be back, even though I was not able to see anybody except my family. Laurel and Josh came with us, but I don’t know if they liked it or not.
-Played Stock Market (so perplexing, and not at all logical).
-Looked for a job in Visalia. Prospects are still glum.
-Listened to two lectures on the Ancient Church, and read about 100 pages of later Greek and early Medieval philosophy.
-Visited with my parents for an evening.
-Hosted a table at the Cultural Diversity Celebration at work. I was sharing my cultural diversity as a confused third-world tribal girl stuck in the 21st century. My company is so inept! They have a great intention to foster diversity in the workplace, or whatever, but they’re going about it the wrong way. They’ll never get the support of the engineering rank-and-file, because they aren’t bothering to give the technical people the answers that they need; I don’t think they even realize that they’re way out to lunch. The solution is simple, of course: Put Deb in charge of Corporate Diversity. However, that’s never going to happen.
-Worked some.
-Passed 100 posts on my blog.

There's more, but I can't think of it.

Dre-e-e-e-eam, dream dream dream!

Sherida told me that my blog is boring. I need to post more. As my dear Laurel has been regaling us with tales of her dreams, I decided to do the same, having awakened from quite a doozy, so to speak, a while back!

I dreamed that I was back as a student at Biola (you know, the real kind of student who actually goes to classes). For some reason, I was in the old cafeteria lobby, and noticed the camera/lights/boom mike setup that indicated that filming was going on. Suddenly, a short woman with her hair in a tight bun pulled me aside and told me that I needed to be the anchor for B-TV. What?!? Apparently, the usual student anchor was absent, but had already submitted the story he was to report, so I needed only to read it. I looked it over, and it was standard info about the celebration of the life of a respected film director. Okay, whatever.

I am seated at the newsanchor table, and flurries of action begin. I suddenly realize that I am stark naked.
"Hello?" I call. "I really can't do this. I don't think Biola will like nudity on B-TV."
"You'll be fine. I know we can count on you."
I look down at my teleprompter sheet, and discover that the information I am supposed to present has disappeared, and a completely different story is written there.
"No, wait! My information is gone! I don't know what to say, anymore."
"Don't worry about it. You'll be great."
Suddenly, I am on camera. I open my mouth, and begin babbling, "This famous director made a great impact on cinema, and was renowned for his atmosphere... He directed the musical numbers for The Sound of Music." I can't remember the guy's name! I finish my sound bite and proceed to exit (I don't remember how), still naked. After it's all over, it hits me: Leo McCarey.
[Editor's note: Now, let me pacify any eager and critical movie buffs. I know that in real life, Leo McCarey did not direct the musical numbers in The Sound of Music. However, in my dream reality, he did. Okay? Okay. I too am an eager/critical movie buff.]

Let's play Psychoanalyst. What does this strange dream mean? Perhaps it means that I fear situations where I feel both out-of-control and keenly scrutinized. But, let's face it: Pretty much anyone would feel anxiety about the situation, if forced to be naked and go on television to give an impromptu speech about an unknown topic. The only exception might be an extraverted host of a talk show on the Nudist Channel (I'm thinking someone like Jim Maljanian, but... I don't even want to consider the idea of him being naked.). So I think that in the end, this dream simply demonstrates that I am a human being, after all.

Idiosyncratic me

I've been tagged by Kevvie White to reveal five of my idiosyncracies. Unfortunately, I have no idiosycracies. I'm a perfectly average person.

Okay, so I didn't fool anybody, did I? Well, I will still have to think about it. It's not like I sit around doing things and then think to myself, "Hey, self, that was way idiosyncratic."

5. I don't like Mexican food. Apparently, this is very unusual for a person who lives in Southern California (aka Northern Mexico, heheh). I like Taco Bell, but as everyone knows, that is terribly fake Mexican food. I guess that counts as a little personal quirk.

4. I like my guavas green, just out of the bitter, hard stage, and just into the tart, juicy stage; I like my bananas ripe: yellow with the beginnings of brown spotting. It is difficult to get good bananas, guavas, or pineapple here on the mainland. *sigh*

3. I can't resist anything that has to do with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Except some of their movies.

2. I listen to "old people music". I have listened to Edith Piaf, Marlene Dietrich, Judy Garland, Deanna Durbin, Noel Coward, etc., since junior high school. I enjoy it.

1. I like to bop my head, or dance and sing along, to the background music in stores and restaurants.

I'm not "tagging" anyone else, though. I'm just that boring.

I'm sitting on the couch, trying to study and listening to a collection of No Doubt singles. Unfortunately, Jeff is in the office, writing his paper and blasting Simple Plan very loudly, so that it overpowers No Doubt even though I'm a few rooms away. I plan to switch to a louder band in a few minutes. Blink 182 should go very nicely with Neoplatonism.

We had lunch with Candace and Rob today, in the food court at Beach and Imperial. We talked about philosophy of education, and theology, and other stuff. There were a lot of people I knew there, for some reason. We saw Jairus Pascale, Will Thorpe, Jim Harrington, Jessy Wall, Linda Kazibwe, the Rosencranses (people I knew from high school in PDX), and even an older Cute Biola Guy that was a secret crush during my early undergrad.

Weekend World

I deleted the "X your confessions" thingie because it took up a lot of space and it was lame. You won't miss it, anyways.

This has been a nice Saturday. Low-key. I've been reading some ancient philosophy (only 600 more pages) and otherwise bumming around. I like weekends. I like the fact that I can plunk myself down on the couch and not move all day, except to cruise to the kitchen for some food and drink. I read a lot of news and blogs, and watched one of my old movies (Miracle of Morgan's Creek-- see it, it's fabulous!). Jeff spent all day working on his paper (with occasional breaks for Halo).

I'm trying to remember any significant events from the past week, to chronicle here, but can't think of any. Probably because there weren't any.
Sunday-- we had lunch with my fam. Mike is back from NY, so he was there, and Tim was also there, with his annoying friend Nate and Mia's annoying friend Jen.
Monday-- can't remember anything about it.
Tuesday-- can't remember anything. Christina didn't come over, because she had to do her MMPI at the Biola Counseling Center, for Personal Foundations of Ministry. Guess what! She is having difficulty setting up her follow-up counseling appointment, because they keep giving her options for appointments during working hours. As far as I'm concerned, this vindicates me 100% with regard to the events that transpired while I was in the PFM class during Fall 2001. Turns out I was not the problem, after all. Now I'm sort of waiting to see if they tell Christina that she is a bad person, and the reason the Intentional Character Development program exists is to fix people like her.
Wednesday-- Laurel came over for dinner (Jeff cooked really yummy chicken) and visiting. She and Jeff watched Star Trek: The Next Generation, while I offered good-natured mocking.
Thursday-- I cooked beef in sweet-and-sour sauce for Jeff. I'm such a good wife this week! Then, roommate night with my girls. We studied Romans 9-11 (How about those wild olives, huh?) and ate chocolate-covered chocolate Hagendazs ice cream bars.
Friday-- two movies with Jeff.
Saturday-- sleeping in, grazing and lazing.

And now to continue my perusal of The Cambridge History of Later Greek and Early Medieval Philosophy. Oh, Plotinus, you sly rogue.

More with the psychidelic queer, less with the child molester creepy

Tonight, Jeff and I went to see a double feature. We initially went to the dollar (technically $1.50, but oh, well) theatre to see Fantastic Four, and then Jeff convinced me to stay and watch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I hadn't really wanted to see either, and just went to humor him, but it turned out to be a good evening.

The Fantastic Four is one of the worst comic book movies I've ever seen. [Of course, I've mainly seen the ones that are considered above average: e.g. Spider-man and the X-men movies.] The script was abominable, the cast strictly B- and C-list (the only one I'd heard of was Jessica Alba as the token female; the men were pretty, but nothing special), and I just had nothing to connect to. There is no way that events in the movie could have actually happened, even in a suspension-of-disbelief sci fi universe.
-Exposure to huge amounts of radiation in the form of a solar flare will kill you and destroy your genetic material, not give you superpowers.
-No matter how human DNA is altered, it won't make you into rock or metal, or allow you to be invisible, because that is not possible for the human frame or carbon-based life. [Well, let me think about the invisible thing; perhaps one could construct some kind of shield that would bend/deflect light, but that's not the same as invisibility. I dunno.]
-Exposure to huge amounts of radiation will not alter all of one's genetic material in exactly the same way all at once. That's just silly.
-Even if one's genetic material is, by some freak one-in-a-trillion chance, altered simultaneously in its entirety, the changes won't be apparent instantaneously because one must wait until all one's cells are replaced.
-Don't even get me started on Stretch-Guy and Flame-Boy. "Supernova bad." Ugh!
-Furthermore, exposure to the same radiation should have given everyone the same effect (death), not all different (pick your superpower trick).
Anyway, the movie is just bad. Science aside, the plots has holes you could drive a Hummer through. The writers don't make you even remotely care about the characters. The acting is laughable, but I'm willing to let it go; it's a comic book movie, after all. The thing that bothers me is the wasted potential. The writers and director could have plumbed the depths for nuances on the difficulties of celebrity and being "different" (something that the X-men franchise and even Ghost Busters have managed to do), or preach a lesson on the value of teamwork and sticking up for your friends, but they forego such possibilities and focus on explosions and forgettable one-liners instead. Alba is absolutely and uniquely gorgeous (see her in her Dark Angel days), yet this movie manages to make her into a standard cleavage-and-tight-outfit comic babe, while giving her several unflattering hairdos in an unnatural blonde (to go with the cleavage and tight outfits) color. Metalloid Bad Guy is totally unmenacing (even the Green Goblin was a more compelling villain, and I thought he was just silly). I can't believe they tried to use the ending to set up a sequel-- as if anyone wanted to see more of this yawn-fest.

Fast forward to an infinitely better fantasy movie: Tim Burton's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I've never liked the 1970s Gene Wilder version of this tale; it's too weird and creepy, with little payoff entertainment-wise. I had my doubts about this version, since I don't much care for Tim Burton's work, either; I don't find him particularly witty or visually appealing, and it seems like he tries too hard. Well, I'm glad to admit that I was WRONG in my pre-judging of this Willy Wonka (see, I can admit it when I'm wrong), because I thoroughly enjoyed my $1.50 outing to the land of the Oompa-Loompas. In my own defense, however, the ads and previews of this movie did seem to emphasize the creepy/weird aspect of the movie, and that was what I hadn't appreciated about the original film to begin with (hence, the title of this post, and by queer I don't really mean homosexual-- although I think there might be some overtones of that-- but rather the traditional meaning of unsettlingly eccentric).
The Visuals: Yes, Burton stills tries way hard, but at least, in Roald Dahl, he has found material worthy of his effort. I've read and enjoyed Dahl's books, and Burton really captures the dark and twisted (sometimes literally, as in the case of the Buckets' house) essence there. He gets an A- for a production that supports, and doesn't overpower or detract from (my view, contrary to some of the reviews I've read), the film itself. Nobody is a harsher critic than I when it comes to substance-less style, so be assured, Mr. Burton, this review should be more precious than anything from Mr. Ebert.
The Writing: Good script, fast-moving and full of zingers, most of them delivered by Mr. Depp with mincing aplomb. The story is more complete than that provided by Dahl (to the best of my memory), but I'm not complaining, because it gave Christopher Lee a cameo as an uptight dentist (but no more spoilers from me). The writing gets a B for accomplishing its purpose in a more than adequate manner.
The Players and Performances: It's Johnny Depp's show all the way, of course, and I'm thinking that I really must go out of my way to see Finding Neverland, because for all of his seeming oddity, I'm coming to consider Mr. Depp one of the best actors of this time. His Jack Sparrow in Pirates was a revelation to me, and I'm thinking that with some more intelligent choices, that Academy Award might become a reality. Depp's Wonka is twitchily anti-social, yet not without conscience. The page-boy bob, the top hat and cane, the lilting whisper and comments on notecards... he somehow seems like he could be a real person (although not, as some have speculated, Michael Jackson; Mr. Jackson has never been, to my knowledge, nearly as articulate or well-dressed as Mr. Wonka). Is this Dahl's Willy Wonka? Perhaps not, but this is the perfect Wonka for this particular movie. All the focus on Depp should not distract one from the solid performance of Freddy Highmore as the earnest heart of the film; he is loveable without being cloying. Nor may we neglect any of the supporting players who contribute so well to the general quality: Helena Bonham Carter (Can this lady ever be made to look unattractive?) and Noah Taylor as Charlie's loving parents; David Kelly as Grandpa Joe (not to mention the other amusing grandparents); all of the other children and their respective parents; and the aforementioned screen legend, Christopher Lee. Special honor and mention (and a special Oscar, in my opinion) should go to Deep Roy as all of the Oompa-Loompas, singing and dancing in a variety of MTV-inspired musical numbers and basically holding the entire narrative together. The cast of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory get a solid A for ensemble acting!
The Theme: Did it have an underlying message? Was there some finger-wagging about use of third-world sweat-shop labor in factories? Were we supposed to be inspired to live out our dreams, no matter how seemingly frivolous (like candy)? To be ourselves? Was it really about valuing one's family as the only measure of true success? I'm not sure, to be honest. I'll give it a C for thematic amibuity, but that's okay, if preaching a message wasn't the main point of the movie. If Mr. Burton wants to enlighten me, he is free to do so.
Overall: I rate this movie 4/5 stars. I'm not sure whether it was really all that great a movie, in and of itself, or if it just seemed great, because I saw it immediately following Fantastic Four, which would have made a low-budget Western seem like Stagecoach. Aw, heck, I'm giving it the benefit of the doubt.

Attention, Film/Video Majors!

Apparently Al Qaeda has taken note of the poor reviews its recent films have received.
For example, the 2005 Los Angeles/Melbourne threat video was universally panned.
In response, Al Qaeda has begun attempting to recruit A/V professionals to give its propaganda that slick Hollywood feel.

In other news: The Ig Nobel Prizes are being handed out, just as the Nobel Prizes are.
The inventor of synthetic dog testicles took home the Ig Nobel Prize for medicine. Read about his work and that of the other winners.

The Nobel Prizes have been fairly standard this year.
Physics--for research into quantum properties in optics
Chemistry--for the discovery of metathesis method of organic synthesis
Medicine--for proving that bacteria, not stress, cause stomach ulcers. Thank goodness, or else my stomach would be riddled with holes like the surface of the moon...
Peace--for doing something with nuclear inspection at the UN. Not sure how this would be classified as strictly related to "peace" in this war-torn world, but I must answer my own implied query with just two words: Yasser Arafat. Or Henry Kissinger. Yeah. Earlier this week, I read speculation that U2 rockers were being considered for the award. Whatever. *snicker*
Economics--not yet announced
Literature--not yet announced