raybear: (flaming gorge)
[livejournal.com profile] anjibobanji inspires me a lot on a daily basis, but today specifically I got led back to the BPAL website, thinking perhaps there might be some aromatherapy magic there for me to give some added boost, healing, whatever. I was reading around and jotting down titles of scents to try, and one of them sounded familiar, so I looked in my little box of imps. Sure enough, I had it. It's called "Fire of Love", and yeah, I know, it's goofy or hippy or woowoo or ridiculous -- pick your adjective -- but damn if it didn't work. Suddenly I was wanting a quickie before work and I wasn't able to make it happen it but I almost don't even care, I'm just sort of thrilled to be experiencing lust, rather than feeling like locking myself in a bathroom and sitting on the floor for several hours. Oops, overshare.

I saw Borat and thought it was silly fun. Maybe because all the big parts had been spoiled for me, I wasn't particularly shocked by anything, whether it was the fcked up racist remarks of the frat boys or him taking a dump by the Trump Towers sign. The naked wrestling was interesting, because everyone around me in the theatre was howling/groaning, in that way where they were shocked and laughing at the same time, whereas I was sort of....turned on while occasionally snickering. And for some reason the part made me laugh outloud (and I was the only one who did, so it seemed more pronounced) was when Borat is reunited with his estranged best friend who he finds on the streets of Hollywood being a Charlie Chaplin impersonator: "But I did not come to California to fight a man dressed like Hitler."

On The Raybear Show, I think I will start a new segment called "Really Late Reviews." In which I talk about movies, tv shows, songs, whatever, way after everyone else does. One part of this will include random mini-reviews of songs on my ipod that came up during the commute. And remember, no matter what I'm saying about these songs, I also love them. I mean, they're on my ipod and I care enough to analyze.

"The Call (Remix)" - Backstreet Boys w/ Clipse. This wins the award for the easiest $16,000 for 16 bars, ever. Ok, I'm guessing about the amount, but the year this song came out, Grindin' just came out and the Clipse were super hot and the Neptunes were producing everything that was being played on MTV and on this, I swear, all they say is, "This is the Neptunes, the Clipse and the Backstreet Boys, holla.....Don't stay up and wait, cause I'ma be home real late." It's kind of a brilliant.

"Overjoyed" - Mary J. Blige. Have you ever wanted to do Stevie Wonder at karaoke but were too shy because you can't really sing? Listen to this song and you too will feel empowered to get on stage. [Acknowledgement: this mini-review is an interpolation of [livejournal.com profile] sharkysmachine's assessment of J-Lo's "You Belong to Me"]

Ok, this isn't a review, just a question to the audience. In Usher's song Caught Up, he says "her body is so tight, got me looking for her in the daytime with a flashlight." What the hell does that mean?
raybear: (Default)
For those who just tuned in, or those who skim, I now work a deskjob that pays me pretty good money. I mean, relatively speaking to the fact that I existed for two years on approximately $14,000 a year. What I make now is a big step up from that -- and just in time as I'd nearly maxed out all my credit cards. I am also the absolute bottom rung on the corporate ladder though withint the organization, given that I am a part-time secretary, so my feelings about money are all muckety in a way that I'm sorting out occasionally. Like today, when I had to ask to get paid for Christmas day. When I asked for the week off, my boss said I'd get paid for the holidays when the office was closed. For Thanksgiving, the hours were added in manually from someone at the end of the pay period, and that didn't happen this time, but I decided to hold off until it was confirmed I didn't get paid. Yesterday I got the stub in the mail, and sure enough, wasn't paid. So I e-mailed them today and asked to have it corrected and accounting said, 'no, you don't get paid cause blah blah blah' and my boss wrote back and said, 'yes, I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you, yes, he does get paid', and accounting said, 'ok, it'll happen next paycheck'. Problem solved, right? No real crisis, other than the 10 minutes between e-mails when I felt all demoralized and frustrated about not getting that day's pay (and possibly not getting the day's pay for New Year's or MLK Day on Monday). But it's all good now. Supposedly. I still feel all shitty. I don't have problems talking about money with candor with my peers (during the e-mail exchange, I turned to the woman I share a workspace with and told her all about it and she was supportive). But I hate the dynamic of having to talk/negotiate money with the people who are in control of doling it out. It's all sorts of feelings of shame and entitlement and fear and anger and guilt. Talking about it before the fact, or after the fact, I'm super confident about where it all stands and aware of meaning of worth and control and the associations that come with it that I must resist. But in the moment, I'm definitely not doing those things.

Speaking of demoralized, I've realized that playing computer chess when you're a near-beginner is sort of the equivalent of hitting a tennis ball against a brick wall. You're never going to beat that wall. But I can still maybe get better. If I can get over my tempter tantrums after losing in under 15 moves.

This afternoon I saw Children of Men which is kind of a shitty title (when I went to the theater, I asked for one ticket for Children of Dead, and the movie guy said 'what?' and I said, Children of THE Dead?....whatever that Children movie is!), but don't let it dissuade you, it's a great, great movie, and I credit [livejournal.com profile] unscrambled for pointing my nose to it. Also, it's sort of freaky, but literally on the way to the movie, I found out that a dear friend of mine is pregnant. Interesting timing for a lot of reasons.

Next week I'm going for matinee of Notes on a Scandal. Damn, I love Oscar season.
raybear: (Default)
I saw El Laberinto del Fauno ([livejournal.com profile] mintwaster, will that title make you go see it?) on Saturday with [livejournal.com profile] drinkasyoupour, and it was pretty fcking amazing, though I honestly had no idea how intense it was going to be. It was kinda like being pushed down a long flight of stairs and getting up uninjured but dazed and overwhelmed by the capacity of human existence. Yeah, that's my weirdo review of the movie. It has a good bit of violence, but none of it is 'gratuitous', in that it all had a purpose and resolved itself in the end. It was just amazing to see this piece of creative work get pulled off so well by this director, the story was both familiar and new. I can't stop thinking about it or feeling it. I should probably stop talking about it though, at least to people who haven't seen it.

On my way into work I feel like a whole week went by since I was last here. I'm not exactly sure why my time scale for the weekend was off. Maybe because I did so much. All you can eat breakfast buffet on Saturday (I'm still dreaming about that fried chicken and mac & cheese). Movie and visit with DAYP. Dinner and dvd and reading at home alone. Sunday I got up and made breakfast, then we drove to Joliet for a wedding, then I came back and went to film group. I feel like having lots of social contact in 48 hours is what's throwing off my time scale. But I don't feel totally exhausted by it, which in these moments makes me think I'm not as introverted as I think, I just hate bullshit interactions of large social gatherings and loud bars. Unless its a karaoke one. Which reminds me, it's been a long time, who wants to go sing soon?

At the wedding, they served family-style Sunday dinner comfort food: turkey and dressing, sliced pork with gravy, mashed potatos, green beans, and pasta with vodka marinara sauce. It was pretty tasty and I appreciate the departure from grilled chicken breasts. I spent the majority of my time talking with [livejournal.com profile] lucyberliner14 and Jyldo, which was the highlight, except for moment when a bridesmaid who I'd never met before in my life, came up to me mid-conversation with someone else and said, "I don't care how gay you are, something's getting stuck up in me tonight." Awkward pause. Then I said, "um, yeah, I don't think it's going to be me. Sorry."
raybear: (Default)
Hey look, they made a movie about me as a teacher. I guess two years have passed and we were due for another attempt at capturing the magic of Dangerous Minds.

Also, when did Hilary Swank become the dead ringer for Jennifer Garner?
raybear: (scream)
I've been jonesing for watching a movie in the theatre, and I think Pan's Labrynth would be the best investment. I could go for a visually stunning immersion into another world. So I'm going on Saturday to Landmark to see it, most likely the late afternoon or early evening. In case anyone out there randomly would like to go too...

Last night at work, it was pretty quiet so I spent half the time reading a website teaching kids to play chess. I think it was really poorly designed for kids, and seemed to perhaps have been illustrated solely with clip art found in a Microsoft program. But pretty informative for even adults. I'm working on my Scholar's Mate defense as we speak. I decided recently that I wanted to learn how to really play chess, not just move the pieces around, as I already know how to do. I hesitate to mention it here, because I suspect most people are either a) bored to tears at the thought of playing chess with a beginner because they are already a grandmaster or b) bored to tears at the thought of playing chess, period. But you know, just in case I'm wrong, I'm mentioning it anyway.

I wasn't thrilled that I had to plunk down several bucks to get a new meditation cushion, but at least the new one has a removable cover for easy washing. I know I'm supposed to keep my mat as a clean and sacred space, but those that decree that obviously don't live in a home without its own meditation room and with an ill-trained dog that I allow on all the furniture. So the ability to clean it on occasion is a very good thing. Basically the other one, well, I thought it was filled with synthetic bean bag beads. No, it was some sort of buckwheat hulls which completely melted and stained everything from the inside out when put in the dryer after washing. Not my brightest move, I admit, but what can you do. In some ways, these moments of fcking up are when I'm pleased to remember that I'm an adult and I don't have to worry about anyone coming down hard on me to teach me some sort of lesson of responsibility. Not all mistakes fall into this category still, there are plenty of people in life who are effected. So in some ways I'm grateful when I'm the only one who's the victim. Well, me and the personified ruined meditiation cushion that is now in the garbage can.

May 2010

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