Update

Yay! The unrelated issue that I had to go to a follow-up for yesterday has turned out to be ok, which I'm very thankful for as it could have been seriously scary. Now I just have to get the first issue resolved, which will involve surgery but at this point, now that I know I have to do it, I just want to get it over with. Thanks all so much for the positive health energy!

Ugh

Well, the health issue thing has turned out to be an issue that I have to do something about, and I also got a callback about an unrelated issue that hopefully will turn out to not be an issue. R and you other kids know who you are, thanks for the positive energy, please keep it coming. I'm not used to asking for help but I could use some healthy energy if you have it to spare.

Thanks!!!
D

Weekend et al

Bellydancing is still going swimmingly even though my cats think my jingly hip scarf is the embodiment of insensate evil. I picked up a new instructional dvd by Amira which I already love because it has an intro that shows women of all shapes, sizes, and ages gettin' their bellydance on. Very cool.

Had a good weekend - Saturday was a reunion of sorts with a very good friend which included my getting to see Ratatouille again (still love that rat!) and then a great great night for Ravinia. Beautiful weather although we left at intermission because it got too cold when the sun went down. Which is kind of an odd blessing for the middle of July!

Sunday I read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows All. Freaking. Day. I was quite pleased with this final installment of the Harry Potter series, much more so than I was with the previous two books in the series. I won't write any spoilers but I think most fans will be pleased (and hopefully they will all leave J.K. Rowling in peace).

I got some slightly disconcerting news in the health department today which I have yet to discuss with my doctor so it still may mean nothing for the time being, but please cross your fingers for me if you could.

Cheers,
me

Harry Potter and the Order of the Kleenex, or Of Course They Blamed it on the Asian

So John and I went to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, the fifth movie adaptation of the books that turned J.K. Rowling into an eleventy-bozillionaire. We got there early enough to have to wait in line for a few minutes while the previous show finished up, and spent the time amusing ourselves and the girl behind us with various unlikely speculation as to how the series will end. (John still thinks Ron Weasley will come out of the closet - I doubt that but we both agree on the fact that Ginny Weasley's been around the block a time or twelve, that filthy minx.)

So, the movie. My official one-word review - Meh.

If you haven't read the books before and plan to, stop reading here.

It was ok, not bad, not great. The book was so ridiculously long that it was necessary to leave big hunks out of the movie. John accurately predicted that they would gloss over Harry's seriously whiny teen angstiness - which actually, although I was relieved because whining sucks, I think it does help make Harry a little more human and understandable.

Surprise, surprise, the Narco Polo responsible for the downfall of Dumbledore's Army turns out to be the lone Asian (for whom Harry was also experiencing Asian jungle fever) and not the Caucasian girl who gets blamed in the book. I didn't see any black characters even getting enough screen time to be identified by name, so the next best thing when you need a patsy is the Asian I suppose.

Luna and Neville were excellent. Ron and Hermione seem to be getting reduced to the respective roles of bumbling sidekick and earnest not-so-nerdy-anymore-because-in-movies-girls-must-be-pretty sidekick.

The Dumbledore/Voldemort showdown was way too Star Wars for my taste, right down to the color of the light shooting from their light sabers - I mean, wands. It's not bad enough that Stephen King had to eviscerate his own Dark Tower series by ripping off Harry Potter, but now Harry Potter is ripping off Star Wars? (Although that would make Harry the whinybitch who doesn't give into the Dark Side)

I saw several people leaving the theatre with tears in their eyes - presumably because of Sirius dying (told you not to keep reading if you haven't read the books) but for some reason that didn't affect me at all - probably because I have never really liked the Sirius Black character. It always seemed to me in both the books and the movies that he encouraged Harry to be "cool" and take risks instead of being smart. But at the same time, that makes his character more interesting than a do-gooder godfather who would advise Harry to stick to the straight and narrow and maybe not take enough risks in the end.

The actress who played Dolores Umbridge was really good, however I don't feel like the character itself was as evil and provoking as she was in the book, which was a shame. The actress really did a good job with what she was given though.

Seriously, what's with Dumbledore and the beret he wears? I miss Richard Harris if only for his pointy wizard's hat.

In other news, I got a jingly hip scarf which I love because it's all purply-blue (my favorite color) with jingly silver coins. My cats are highly suspicious of it, however.

Seismic Disturbances is Fun!

So I had my first bellydancing class (finally! the crowd says) last night and I LOVED it. Yes, at times I felt like a stumbling elephant on crack but for the most part it was really fun and let me just say again for all of you - that shit is hard work. I was mostly ok with the simple footwork we were shown but when you combine it with trying to keep your posture and then do crazy stuff with your hips, well, let's just say I have room for improvement. There was one hip move where you basically act like you're shutting a car door using just your hip (like when your hands are full) or you're hip-checking someone out of your way. Which I can TOTALLY relate to. I want to get a jingly hip scarf - it's funny how the one the instructor was wearing really helped accentuate what she was doing.

Heathen, if you're reading, email me cuz I got questions for you!

Anyone else, if you have the chance to take a class like this, please do it, it's a lot of fun and good for you too!

ETA: Strangely enough, there was this little house across from the dance studio that was painted to look like the American flag. Not just one wall. THE ENTIRE HOUSE. Yeah.

Double Standards Suck

I was watching a bit of the Live Earth concerts, and saw this group called Fall Out Boy. Now, I've never seen them or heard their music before, but I have heard of their existence, so they're probably enjoying significant success if I've heard of them (I hardly recognize anyone on the radio these days).

The lead singer (on this particular song anyway) forcibly reminded me of the ridiculous double standard in entertainment and especially (I think) in music between men and women. Here is a man who had not one, not two, but ALL of the following:

• a blue gingham train conductor/trucker hat
• a mullet
• WITH sideburns
• a pasty pasty pasty white complexion
  
• what I can only describe as a very healthy pair of breasts or an amazingly ill-fitting leather jacket (or both)
  

Which is totally fine if you have talent and the moxie to be an entertainer. I seem to recall he had a few dental issues as well. Peachy. Seriously. If he can sing, who cares, right?

Except if you put a female singer in the public eye who was such a hot mess on the outside, what chance would she really have to succeed as an artist, no matter how well she can sing and entertain? Sure there are some women who have done so, but they are few and far between, especially these days where talent has largely been replaced by T&A when it comes to women entertainers. Conventionally attractive plus sexy is what sells for female artists and I think that's so so sad. Especially considering how our culture can't seem to stomach sexuality anywhere else, but our female entertainers better be sexy above everything.

What kind of message is that for young girls? Eating disorders are already practically pandemic amongst teenage girls, but not only do you have to be thin and pretty as a rule, if you have talent without looks, your talent means just about squat. Sex sells but for GOD'S SAKE DON'T BE THINKING ABOUT SEX. And we wonder why kids seem to be so messed up.

Baby Penguins, Sea Otters, and Sweat

So after I can't remember how many years, I managed to get back to the Shedd Aquarium on Saturday with Laura, both of us sucked in by the announcement of baby penguins joining the penguin exhibit. I have no idea why, but I have loved penguins since Chilly Willy. They're such funny, strangely engineered animals, but so dignified at the same time. When they make it up out of the water in one jump, that is.

Here is one of the babies (according to the article in the Tribune, two babies were brought before the public this week, there is a third baby that is still too young to come out and say hi) kind of squished under the penguin in the center. With low lighting and motion, I couldn't get too many good pictures but I did get a few.


The sea otters were moving way too fast for me to get a picture. So I got one of my own to take home - I decided his name is Jeffrey. Don't ask me why. It just popped into my head and stuck.


Chameleon


Homegrown Coral


Giant Japanese Spider Crab. Eep.


Overall, a really good trip - animals just make me happy for some reason, even the ones that squick me out like giant spider crabs and fish with whiskers. (No, I don't know why fish with whiskers freak me out but they do - it's like they couldn't decide what to be.)

This morning I went hiking on the Des Plaines River Trail. I'm embarrassed to say that I can get on the trail quite close to my house - it's about a 5 min drive - but I just never did before (although I've been on the DPR Trail farther south years and years ago) But I went today and headed north - I didn't quite make it to the top of the trail but I almost did, so I went about 8.5 - 9 miles round trip. And yes, I was sweating in spectacular fashion especially towards the end where there was little shade and lots of sun. But it felt really good and peaceful to just be in nature (even if you can occasionally hear the cars on nearby roads) and walk and get some perspective on things.

View from the trail near my house


A good bit of the trail was in the shade like this portion, which was really nice


Sterling Lake


Luckily, I had the foresight to wear a baseball cap to protect my blackbody hair from setting my brain on fire. Unfortunately, I was largely still asleep when I started out and forgot to put on sunscreen, I'm not burnt but my shoulders are a teeny bit warm. I seem to have successfully dodged the dead sexy sock tan line, though.

So having hoofed 8.5-9 miles this morning, I feel completely guiltless about spending the rest of the day finally catching up on all the episodes of the FX series The Riches that I've missed. Due to DVR issues, I was completely missing 3 episodes but managed to download them from Amazon, and I have the remaining 4 episodes on my new DVR.

Toodles!
D

STFU Already!

I imagine this is what my 7 readers are thinking, as I feel I've been excessively bloggy lately. Blame a slow work week and the need to keep my fingers in fighting (typing?) trim.

It's been a pretty good holiday week, everyone seems to have blown town for the whole week as traffic's been nonexistent, even going into Chicago yesterday there was hardly anyone on the road. I had a tasty and fun brunch with some friends (which was admittedly harder to get than we expected due to some places being closed for the 4th) and then saw Transformers with John and Laura. I really thought it was quite fun and wasn't taking itself too seriously until a certain "You're a soldier now!" moment that could have been served on a nice Triscuit with wine. Wine out of a box. Anyway, I still had a better time than I did at I, Robot. But then again I have better times at dental cleanings than I did at I, Robot.

I saw this bumper sticker on the road yesterday and thought it was quite cool.

From xpressyourview.com:
This unique image shows the interdependence of man, woman and the major religions of the world, in capturing the positive life-sustaining messages of coexistence and peace.

The symbols include the Muslim Crescent and Five Pointed Star, a Peace Sign, Man & Women, the Jewish Star of David, Baha'i Star, Taoist Yin Yang and the Christian Cross.

I googled it and found there's a few logos similar to this but this is the one I saw yesterday and like the best out of the ones I've seen.

I saw this article this morning - Orgasm clip spices up EU meeting - and was thinking that although there is apparently some controversy over this, how much it would pale in comparison to the grand mal hissyfit that would ensue if any American body of anything were to do something similar. Granted, this was on youtube and not network tv, but it just served to remind me how ridiculous Americans are about sex. If you have genitalia, odds are you're going to figure out what they're used for, and no amount of positioning (sorry for the pun) sex as hush-hush-evil is going to change that. Gods forbid we teach our children what our bodies do and how to do it safely.

Bush's Banana Republic

I think I made the comment a while back when Harriet Miers (who??? exactly) was the then-Bush nominee for the Supreme Court, that getting a cushy job in the Bush Administration is apparently no harder than getting a gig at the Gap or at Banana Republic - your only qualification being that you gotta be one of Bush's pals.

Apparently the same holds true for getting out of a prison sentence that you actually deserve. Now that Bush has commuted the prison sentence of goodbuddy Scooter Libby, the Banana Republic comparison makes even more sense to me, both in terms of the blatant cronyism that seems to be the sole ticket for gaining entrance to this particular Banana Republic, and the actual original meaning of "banana republic"

(from wikipedia.org)
"Banana republic is a pejorative term for a small, often Latin American or Caribbean country that is politically unstable, dependent on limited agriculture, and ruled by a small, self-elected, wealthy and corrupt clique"

ETA: Paris Hilton served more jail time than Scooter Libby. I'm not sure I can think of a more depressing commentary on our times than that.

Simple Pleasures

This weekend I went to visit my parents at their new house, and just as I got out of the car, the little girl next door successfully rode her bike on her own without training wheels. Her dad was whooping and cheering and I started clapping just because the moment was so great in its sheer uncomplicated euphoria. It just seems that the older we get, the less often we get to experience (or perhaps sadly enough we just don't even notice) those moments of simple happiness and accomplishment.

Hopefully I will experience one of these moments in bellydancing class, although I expect it's more likely that I will find I have the grace, dexterity, and balance of a drunken one-legged elephant with severe joint inflammation. The class very nearly got derailed due to a request I got today to fly out to California for a two-day meeting for work, the second day of which would have been the first day of class. I figure if I miss the first day of class, I might as well cancel the whole thing, so I asked management if I couldn't teleconference in and luckily they agreed. (although I'm sure they are glad to save the airfare and hotel as well.) So Wayne Brady won't have to choke a bitch, although he may want to take protective cover when I learn how to properly shake what the Good Lord gave me.

I dropped the last M&M out of the packet I was eating after lunch. Probably the cosmos' way of telling me I've had quite enough of that particular simple pleasure.

Food should be a simple pleasure, but setting out to taste EVERYTHING at the Taste of Chicago seems a bit excessive to me. And nauseating. Of course, the Taste (for me) brings back only memories of being stuck between large hairy sweaty men clutching giant turkey legs. If you want to interpret that as a subconscious fear of caveman male mentality, go ahead, all I can tell you is that it was freaking gross.

Sports and Sociology, or Who the Hell Voted for Barry Bonds for the All-Star Game?

Now, let me say right off the bat that I don't profess to be an expert in either sports or sociology. I observe the workings of both periodically, and make my own opinions on them as I do on any other subject.

Quite a few people I know, men as well as women, just don't see the point of professional sports. Why should I care, they say, about some guy who's getting paid a bozillion times more than me to run around a playing field and follow some rules? What's the big deal? What's the point? And I think that's an absolutely valid and fair position to take. Some care, some don't. That's life.

For me, sports has been one of the great levelers, or to put it in more pessimistic terms, one of our society's lowest common denominators. It's like the weather. It's something to talk about, something that for the most part is less polarizing than say, religion or politics. In my mind, it's also a less dangerous topic than religion or politics, in that you just don't need to pay THAT much attention in order to have a valid conversation about it. I say "in my mind", knowing full well that millions of people a day have completely uninformed and uneducated discussions about religion and politics. But I believe these kinds of conversation only lead to propagation of error and more confusion and divisiveness and intolerance in those arenas. With sports conversations, hopefully the worst thing that can happen is you teach someone else to hate the Yankees. And that's ok, in my opinion.

Sitting in a ballpark, and looking down a row of seats, you see young and old, men and women, chubby and skinny, all races, all religions, all occupations, all political, sexual, or philosophical persuasions. All together to enjoy a (hopefully) good ball game. It's really quite comforting in a largely uncomfortable world.

Being an only child, sports was something I could bond with my dad about, since I didn't want to learn how to play golf, I could watch the Cubbies and the Bears with him and learn things from hm and cheer or commiserate with him. And we still do that to this day. We don't necessarily understand or share each other's inner thoughts and dreams, but we can always have a good time watching a game. I suppose you could call it superficial, but sharing something like that with my dad, however "fluffy" it might be, still has a lot of value to me.

Sports also (for the most part) carries less ambiguity than religion or politics. Sure, there's calls you can debate and plays you second-guess, but for the most part, the rules are the rules and you want your team to win fair and square. In sports, as in politics, people hate a cheater.

Which is why I am absolutely baffled at fans voting Barry Bonds to a starting spot in the All-Star Game. I seriously cannot comprehend actively supporting a player who is a known cheater. Bonds can deny using performance-enhancing drugs until he's blue in his great big steroid-puffed face. It's my opinion based on what I've read and seen that the man is a blight on the face of baseball today.


Barry Bonds before and after um, NOT taking performance-enhancing drugs.
For God's sake, his HEAD is deformed now it's so huge

I've read opinions that it goes back to the league allowing the World Series to be cancelled in 1994, and the one thing that really brought burned fans back to the stands is the freakish output of home runs by players like Mark ("What the... is he CRYING? There's no CRYING in baseball!") McGwire and Sammy Sosa and now Barry Bonds. Well, yes, I think this is true. But I also think that with the fan base that the sport has in this country and throughout the world, fans would have come back to see their teams play and win. Crushing a ball out of the park is great and amusing and fun and all, but take it from a Cubs fan who's accustomed to the bitter taste of defeat, I would have traded all Sosa's home runs for winning seasons and playoff berths. Unless the other team just doesn't show up, you can't win on home runs alone.

So, my (perhaps naive) opinion of sports as a leveler, as something that could connect and unite people who might not otherwise find themselves united, occasionally takes a hit in times like this. Because in sports, as in politics, as in LIFE for that matter, I find it hard to understand how my fellow man can back a cheater. I just have to keep reminding myself that it takes all kinds. Even the kinds that will love Barry Bonds.

Editor's Note: Please do not take this post as sour grapes over Bonds beating out Soriano in the balloting. The Cubs could be the entire NL All-Star roster and I would still consider Bonds a boil on the butt of baseball.

A Welcome Pick-Me-Up

Yesterday I went with Laura and John to see Ratatouille. Now, for some reason, I always see the trailers for Pixar films months in advance and think "That looks silly" and then I end up loving the film. Ratatouille was no exception. Remy has got to be the freaking cutest rat ever (that may not be saying much in the context of real live rats but he was adorable.)



In the range of Pixar films, I think Ratatouille will be tied for my 2nd favorite next to Finding Nemo and behind Monsters, Inc. Just really sweet and clever and fun, and damn do those Pixar folk have the fur and hair animation down to a fine art. Quite a welcome pick-me-up.

I also hit a yarn store with Laura and picked up some Noro Silk Garden Lite yarn (which is a beautiful silk/mohair/wool variegated yarn - basically if I had porno fantasies about yarn, Noro would be in there every time.) I'm planning to make this scarf with it. It's surprisingly not too difficult a pattern, it's quite repetitive, but easy to screw up if you were dopey like me and tried to do the pattern without a row counter because I ended up skipping a duplicated row and part of the scarf was backwards. (Luckily that was just practice anyway.)



Toodles for now,
D