Graceful Peaceful German Fisher

Corporal Existence

2007-01-31T19:03:00.000-08:00

Friday: Woke up with congested nose. At work, progressed to dry throat, runny nose, and abdominal pain. Sent home early. Three hours of sleep. Comtrex doses. More sleep.
Saturday: Fully raging sinus infection. Regular doses of Comtrex. More sleep.
Sunday: 4 am woke self up because of enormous stomach pain. 8 am woke up to get ready for church. Cannot fully extend torso, because of stomach pain. Feels like someone punching GI tract from throat to spleen. Cannot eat. Skip church. Pick up shift at coffee shop. Have low blood sugar, pass out, hit head. Cut and bruises on jaw and elbow. Headaches and neck stiffness. No more drugs. Lots and lots of sleep.
Monday: Wake up late. Go to work late. Sent home within five minutes. Still raging cold, still pained stomach, still painful head injury - but eating a lot.
Tuesday: Another day off. Still sinus infection, less stomach whatever it was, less head stuff.
Wednesday: Went to work. Fuzzy nose feeling. Healing cuts. No head pain. Hungry all the time.

So, I've never passed out because of hypoglycemia. I've ALMOST passed out several times - once memorably carrying a basketful of laundry from Pew to my dorm, another time standing up in front of my Headmistress to be told I looked as white as a sheet and needed to go to the nurse.

I tried to do a hypoglycemia diet today - six smaller meals. It ended up as pig-out snack sessions.

Another day, another dollar

2007-01-21T20:28:00.000-08:00

I just made my apartment smell like acridity. If a smell could burn your eyelashes off, that is the smell I am smelling.

I let some of the olive oil from a pan drip on the bottom of my oven, and thus grease smoke - not grease fire - just a little billow of smoke that was ridiculously powerful enough to pervade the apartment, possibly the whole house. Sorry second and third floor tennants.

Yesterday, the roommate and I locked ourselves out of our apartment. We had gone to a Bobby McFerrin concert (wherein he conducted an orchestra and symphonies by Mozart, Ravel, and Rimsky-Korsakov), and left with such speed (and also had a ride for which neither of us needed keys to our cars), that we both left our keys in the house. We realized that on the return, and spent half an hour jimmying doorlatches with Borders Reward cards, calling our various landlords (of course at 11 pm), and, eventually, breaking in through a front window. I said, "What if a cop saw me?" to which the reply was "Why would anyone suspect a giant, purple person crawling into a house? Wouldn't they be wearing less distinctive clothing?" Point taken, because I now have a gigantic, wind-proof, cold-proof, moisture-proof poof-poof coat ... and it's purple.

The purple coat is the same coat that my boss has. This is disturbing, and I think I've been subconciously trying to destroy it ever since I found out we had the same coat. Thursday in my Educational Technology class, I smelled the most delicious aroma of vanilla coffee. I then realized I had kicked over my coffee mug, and my coat was dutifully sucking up every last ounce of it. So, attempt on coat's life number 1. And I just tried to burn down the house with olive oil, so attempt number 2.

I'm taking classes toward a multi-age licensure in Spanish (possibly Latin). I get 8 free credits from CSU for working for them. "Educational Technology" and "Teaching as a Profession" are the lame-o classes I'll be taking. I hope there will be arguing - I like a good argue.

I'm their Study Abroad gal. And I had to quit the educational aide job. And I'm going to work at the coffee shop again. I confuse myself.

Bartering

2006-12-14T09:02:00.000-08:00

I'll be teaching a math lesson at the afterschool program today. We'll be talking about word problems, and how they seem corny in a textbook. But then I'll break out a game I just got called "Allowance", which is basically Monopoly with money earned from chores and spent on bubblegum rather than on real estate. I'm going to make them write word problems based on their actual transactions during the game. And then, hopefully, at the end of the game (who knows - Monopoly can go on forever - I'm hoping this game has an actual end to it), they'll exchange papers with their problems on it and make the other students figure out the word problems. Sweet, right? Too complicated as well, but if it all works out, I hope to make tiny synaptical connections between textbook learning and real world application in the students' minds.
I remember how my favorite part of elementary math was "real life" math. We'd learn how to fill out a check. We'd use store circulars and plan a meal with an imaginary budget. It was ridiculously fun, because it was like playing pretend - and it was officially endorsed through state licensed professionals!
Also since grade school I've been fascinated with the concept of bartering (also with the word "broach" which I memorized as "to bring up" by making a heaving sound when saying the word). Money, in its essence, is just metal metaphorically representing what used to be valued in salt, chickens, cows, other livestock, or any other tradeable good.
I broach this topic, because I need a hair cut. The last time I had a hair cut was in May, and my sister-in-law's sister cut my hair. She's a freelance hair stylist who stays home with her children and takes customers when they and she are available. Back in the day of steady employment, I was all set to pay her with greenbacks, but she told me to bring my sewing machine instead, and I could repair her son's overalls in compensation for the haircut. And it was a very good haircut - and my older brother had his cut at the same time as well. He bartered his lawn cutting services. Now I need a haircut, and my bartering hair stylist is in Maryland.

Moody

2006-12-13T10:48:00.000-08:00

As I get older, I'm trying to get a handle on my moodiness - trying to stabilize my moods, be a pleasant person all the time. It's a difficult business - a job even. I'm not a consistent person, and I think that's part of my charm - who knows what will happen next with Hannah around? I put it to Brendan yesterday, "Stubbornly inconsistent is an oxymoron, except in relation to me." Today I was in a humdinger of a mood at Caribou. I got there, and I did NOT want to talk. Wild horses, perky people, and even coffee could not draw out a pleasant peep from me. I thought I was hungry or thirsty, so I tried a chocolate (chocolate!) muffin and some nice ice water, and while satiating, I still couldn't care less about making sure people had a good day around me. So I went into a fog - a fog of self-examination and malaise. But people got their coffee. So I did my job, and hopefully I'll get paid for it.
I'm wondering if a lot of my moodiness stems from diet. I totally got enough sleep last night, which I think lack of is the usual impetus to mood swings. I did eat a lot yesterday throughout the whole day. I'm wondering if my blood sugar crashed in the morning, even though I had breakfast - like my body was crying out for the same HIGH amount of calories and sugars I gave it yesterday.
Or I could have just been bored and took it out on co-workers and customers.
Anyway, won't be working there for much longer. I'll be switching over to doing Study Abroad work for a nearby university. Sweet bippy!

Good Things (while I am neither Oprah nor Martha, you may refer to me as the singular Hannah)

2006-11-28T10:54:00.000-08:00

1. Marc's - a grocery store, from which produce does invariably go bad if not used immediately, has the cheapest prices consistently of any area grocery store. These prices are possible because the store does not accept credit or debit cards, thus cutting out the fee imposed by credit card companies for use of their products. They also have close-outs, which can be hilarious, cheap stocking stuffers, or feed my need for kitchen gadetry.

2. Caribou Coffee - their coffee blends smell (and taste) delicious. I know, because I get to grind them and smell their fruity/nutty/coffeeness. The prices are exactly the same as Starbucks, and the coffee less bitter (what does Starbucks do? Filter their coffee through used panty hose? Add roadkill as filler?).

3. Applesauce-Carrot Cake Muffins. Fluffy, low fat, and amazingly sugarless. Amazing, because you just don't care, they're so fluffy and warm and ... excuse me for a moment ...

4. My roommate - a baker, an independent woman of privately acquired means, a seamstress, and a pugulent advocate of truth.

5. Facebook - I was able to get onto this previously prohibitive website, because they now allow anyone with an email address onto their site. I have claimed Cleveland, OH as my network, but I can research old friends from high school (very hard to find them, because I went to high school partly in England) and see pictures posted of college friends (it's like being connected without the effort of emotional support - HA!).

6. Timberland - Not only the maker of boots, but of my favorite single strap backpack. This backpack provided a conversation opener with one of the most difficult students in the afterschool program for which I help tutor. He said, "Your backpack is made by Timberland. So are my boots." And the door was opened, and he got all of his math and science homework done.

Oopsdate

2006-11-21T18:11:00.000-08:00

I am employed twice over, at Caribou Coffee (yummy shift drinks!) and the local school district for which I am an afterschool educational aide. That sounds piddly, but I'll basically be designing and running my own program, so that's exciting. I've been able to shadow some other afterschool programs, and do some tutoring, which excited me to no end. Huzzah education!

Caribou has been interesting and hard. I am not a business minded person - my first thought is not "How can I take money from you while looking like I just want to get you good coffee?" Rather, my thought is, "How can I make your day better?" (which, ironically is Caribou's motto). Today was the first day I worked the coffe making bar, and it was fun! It demystified the whole process, and now I want an espresso maker for Christmas, because I'd rock that. Drinks are basically formulas, so many shots, so much milk, this many chocolate coffee beans (I jitter evertime I scoop up a batch!). It's hard though - I'm not a great "rememberer" of details, and customer service is full of the nit pickety details ("I said SOY decaf extra hot no foam lite whip two shot espresso in a large cup, NOT skim decaf extra hot no foam lite whip two shot espresso in a large cup.").

I had an interview recently with a large Cleveland university for a position as Study Abroad Specialist (re: Assistant). That was a couple of weeks ago, and I blew $45 making portfolios for the darned interview. I've emailed the people who interviewed me once, last week, asking for an update - no response. To be fair to the process, it did take them two months from the receipt of my original resume to get me in for an interview. Le sigh.

The Smith-Marsh nuptial was a hoot-blast-awesome event. I saw KELS! I hadn't seen her in two years, but, darn it, if we didn't fall back into bicker/love. I missed my Kels. And I got to travel 8 hours in a car with some of my favorite people, including roommate 1, housemate 2, and housemate girlfriend 3. Good times and strange animal noises emanated from that vehicle. How many times can Caitlin yell, "HEY COWS!" Several ...

2006-11-13T10:42:00.000-08:00

Coffee.

Weezer has penned a song ... well, more like Rivers Cuomo (because I hear he's a song-hog and doesn't let his bandmates produce any of their songs under the Weezer aegis) ... called "We are all on drugs." My public school education told me about the bad drugs Weezer is probably indicating in their song. However, I'd like to push the concept further and say that the "we" and "all" in the song can truly apply to all humans. I am currently very, very stimulated by caffeine derived from a large cup of coffee. I do not take (and have never taken) illicit drugs. I've been antibiotics four times in my lifetime. I do not use drugs to calm tummies, reduce headaches, or sooth pains. But I drink one or two cups of coffee everyday. I am an addict. A severe addict (ask anyone who has seen me come off of caffeine - it's scary - Hannah angry, very, very angry). Point being: People of "advanced" cultures can't live without artificial stimulant. I'd like to see caffeine removed one day from the USA, England, France ... there would be nuclear holocaust. And now I sell the stuff. I'm a pusher. I'm a dealer. And I get tips for it.

2006-10-25T16:02:00.000-07:00

One of the many wonders of Northeast Ohio is bargain shopping (another is snow in October). There is Half-Price Books ($1, $2, $3 Clearance section reaches out for rows!) and Marc's with its fabulous buy-outs from which much of our kitchen is stocked (who can argue with an 88 cent travel mug?). There are also the thrift stoes, trusy Salvo, but also Unique Thrift with half-off Mondays. On those Mondays, lines stretch across the block from the entry until the store opens at 7am.
But today was an exceptional day for bargain shopping. At a local school district (a very rich suburb to the south east of Cleveland), the PTA gathers clothing all year to have a week long sale. First day is "as marked", a few days after "half-off", and today was Bag Day. $5 for a bag, carry as much as you can. I can carry quite a lot in a paper bag, mostly due to my impressively honed packing skills from years of travelling.
I just tabbed up the original "as marked" prices of my 25 items: $102.25. And it was acquired, tiger huntress style, for $5.
My most prized acquisitions are two: a) a long, fitted denim jacket (not cut at the hip as most denim jackets are unfortunately placed) with lining and b) a print of a duck in shades sitting in a lounge chair, drinking a Coke with two ice cubes, lcasually looking to the wall on its right at two bullet holes. It is entitled "Sitting Duck," and has been gifted to Brendan who immediately got the awesome joke. (Maybe in the interest of full disclosure, the reader should know there is a picture hanging in my bathroom of a pig joyfully launching himself off of a dock into pond.)
Sigh. I love a bargain.

2006-10-24T09:40:00.000-07:00

I've entered Facebook, mostly due to utter boredom. Come be my friend.

Still no job - it turns out a lot of my references (or former friends as I call them now) - are not returning phone calls, and if I see them any time soon, I will kick their collective rear ends.

And I have met this woman: http://www.sunnews.com/news/2006/part2/1019/EBASHA.htm

2006-10-20T18:53:00.000-07:00

I clarify: I am not depressed right now. I'm quite buoyant, actually. I have little money, my job prospects are still low, but darn it, if God hasn't sat me right here, and
this
is
where
I'm
supposed
to
be.

I have hope: two applications for grad school, a very good GRE score (I think everybody knows it by now - it rhymes with schmourteen ten), an application pending with the school board for substitution. I even (now this does make me feel like a base person) put in two applications for retail positions, but I chose carefully - to JoAnn Fabrics (or Mecca) and Pier 1 (a homage to my grad school cousin who works there on her days off for extra cash). I have a lot of hope. It doesn't hurt that my boyfriend is a wonderful and compassionate listener (I have to realize, of course, that if I don't talk about my problems, he won't know they exist). He also pays for a lot of meals that feed me very well. And he shows me hilarious sleepy kitten videos:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IAV25tbVNto and equally funny Steve Carrell cat impersonating http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZdEKJATpJcM.

Lots of time to think

2006-10-19T10:16:00.000-07:00

I read a lot of blogs that somehow deal with depression, mostly from young intelligent independent women. I am split in my opinions of this - I'm ridulously sad, because it's a terrible, awful feeling and existence, but I'm also gladdened, because at least I have company.

I'm depressed a lot. Most people just see the tip of my problem called "moodiness." It was acceptable, the brooding, long naps, restlessness, weight loss and gain, as a teenager - it's almost expected. In adulthood, it's debilitating. Along with the constant search for reason and purpose, I have to cope with daily moodswings. I have always been horrendously bad at handling my emotions - I either wear them on my sleeve or tightly repress them. I know no mood moderacy. And I don't understand why it's in my head.

I'm trying to slog through a book called Depression, by Ed Welch, a Christian counsellor. It's an excellent book - it doesn't make me feel guilty and pathetic like most Christian literature. He calls depression a form of suffering, which if you have felt it and sat in it for a while, it most certainly is.

Philosophy of Food (with tangential references to dieting)

2006-10-16T11:46:00.000-07:00

I come from a family of rapacious eaters - bottomless pits, clean plate clubbers, buffet lines are child's play.

My mom made my brothers and I whatever we wanted (because she loved us) - so we got burgers, and pizza, and french fries, and fried everything! Occassionally, we'd be forced to eat vegetables (I hate hate hated broccoli). But, mom would relent, and she'd stock the fridge and freezer with foods she knew we would eat (her freezer is still full, though she is an empty nester - waiting for the spontaneous output of visiting grandchildren).

But we all ate a lot, and we ate well. From my childhood I gained an appreciation of volume in eating.

We travelled a lot, and lived in foreign countries, and my parents were experimental in the foods they ate, so our palates broadened even when we were teenagers (a time usually dedicated to convenience foods bought with "independence" money). From this, I gained an appreciation for variety in eating.

And then college. College taught me a lot about really bad food, and how you can take bad food and doctor it into something edible (hence, mushrooms can be microwaved with onions to make a sort of sautee and there is no fried potato shape that cannot benefit from cheese). College also made me lose a lot of weight (stress, sleeping through dinner hours, lots of Coke). So my stomach shrunk, but I still wanted to eat everything on my plate. What self-defeatism!

I moved back in with my parents after college and taught school. Sheepishly I admit my mother at first packed my lunches for me (love my mom). But then I kept packets of oatmeal under my desk, and only ate oatmeal during the school day, because it was fast and filling.

Needless to say, the weight loss brought on low blood sugar problems that I had even when I was bigger. So, only oatmeal for hours (occasional spikes in sugar coming from the almight beverage Coke) nearly ate my tummy away inside. I'd have blackouts, shaking fits, and fevers.

Last year, two very concerned and awesome friends, Kevin and Michelle (and a little Lauren), took it upon themselves to keep me continuously fed. I also moved into a space on the school campus with a fully functioning kitchen. Huzzah! I ate and ate. And I bought cookbooks.

Cookbooks have since become my primary literary concern. At Half Price Books (www.halfpricebooks.com), you can troll throught the clearance sections and get excellent cookbooks for $1. Actually, the fascination came earlier than I indicated - I was running a Hispanic Dinner as fundraiser for one of my Guatemala trips, and I needed to use a slowcooker to cook meat, because the school didn't have a stove or range. So I dragged out some of my mom's infiniti plus two cookbooks on Crockpottery, and I became enthralled! I loved cookbooks, and still do (and I bought a crock pot).

For food in general, I'm trying to keep my palate broad, and I love all foods because of it. Going to restaurants causes me to make some of the most difficult life decisions I've ever made. Usually frugality wins out, but taste never is compromised!

My newest exploit, brought on by a dwindling bank account, is eating well with no money. By eating well, I mean all my fruits and veggies AND meat. I just made a chili with cinnamon that is ridiculously good (from a mix - but tons of fiber and taste). I'm tempted to buy hotdogs ... but I'm not going that far quite yet. When I get to the boxed macaroni and cheese/bitesize hot dog pieces, I'll let the world know ... and demand money for better food.

Schedule

2006-10-11T15:49:00.000-07:00

Tonight: My Fair Lady at Cleveland Playhouse.
12th: Mom's birthday;
Substitute orientation at Cleveland Heights School Board.
13th: GREeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek;
Seussical the Musical at Geauga Lyric Theatre Guild in Chardon.
14th: Grove City Homecoming;
Seussical.
15th: Pride and Prejudice at Lakeland Community College.

And supposedly in the midst of week end mishmash, I'll find out (finally) if I'm going to be a grant-funded educational aide for an afterschool activity program sponsored by the School Board for Free and Reduced Middle Schoolers.

Sheep would be easy to make with cotton balls.

2006-10-05T20:21:00.000-07:00

I'm at my parents' house in Maryland. I made the five hour drive down the Pennsylvania Evilpike, because I love my family. My youngest brother is turning 21 tomorrow, my granddad 84 on Saturday, and my mom 52 on the 12th. AND Brendan's brother turned 16 on Tuesday. It's a birthday season of festival proportions!

I got Clayton, Brendan's brother, a shirt from Unique Thrift Store (everything half price on Mondays) that said "I have decided to put myself in charge." Since this is my life philosophy, I thought he might like to adopt it as well through wearing a discount t-shirt. I bought my brother three "vintage" ties, of excellent quality and provenance (the tags proclaim Yves Sant Laurent), also from Unique.

I made cards for all four people, and I'm reasonably happy with my creative efforts. I used paper cut-outs made from blank-inside cards I've been hoarding and themed Bible verses (it ended up much, much nicer than the regular themed Bible verse cards with sheep and ... actually, sheep would be easy to make with cotton balls ...).

I took a nap right after I got here (technically, I ate right after I got here, but I eat as a necessity; sleep has become more of a luxury so I highlight that). I've been dead with the ridiculous hours I've been going to sleep after working on Brendan's set. In fact, Brendan said last night, "You look awful." It was meant in kindness, to drive me home to bed, but it just got a meekly knowing reply of, "I know." "You can go home." "I'm GOING to get this DONE." So I stayed, and then I napped after driving five hours today.

I got a little scared last night when I realized I'd be away from Brendan for the first time in two months. He'll be ridiculously busy with the play this weekend and should be sleeping right after to make up for the even longer hours he put into his set which compromised his sleeping schedule. But I'll probably spend most of my weekend thinking about him. I hate my wussiness. I am a wuss. I'm going to go sleep in disgust of myself.

On Community Theatre Politicking

2006-10-02T17:08:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in on a tech rehearsal for Brendan's newest endeavor, Seussical. I've been staying nights to help him with the set, which he is building himself. He has a wonderful concept - moving towers of books acting as doorways and arches, and one giant book depicting different Seussian scenes. It's taking a lot (!) of time to do those few things though. Many a time I have wished for Matt Holman's great foam working skills (the book towers are made from sheets of pink insulating foam).

As I've been hanging around, I've heard theatre politicking the likes of which I haven't experienced in years. I had forgotten that the struggle upwards in community theatre is very dependent on rumor and the opinion of one woman, man, or committee. I used to run the rumor mill, and, at times, I was in the position to be the one woman (or on the one committee).

But, just in observation, theatre politicking is vicious stuff. It seems to be run here primarily by bitter middle aged women, the most vicious and conniving of the humans. Lots of rumors, resentment, and revenge!

And, even in observing this, I can't help but believe I could be in control of it all again. I could teach the old vengeful biddies a thing or two. HA! I will never learn.

This could almost make me celebrate Halloween.

2006-09-22T08:23:00.000-07:00

American Splendour

2006-09-13T13:37:00.000-07:00

So this man: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0670688/ was at my library today. The library 1/4 mile from my house that I walk to every day. And it was no book signing or any shenanigans like that. He actually lives like a mile away too. And I stared at him. And then I called a lot of people.

2006-09-13T08:29:00.000-07:00

The Kitchen
It's rather large, like most of our rooms with the exception of bathroom and bedrooms. The bench underneath the windows is an old toy chest. I've already cooked several winning meals, mostly Italian. Caitlin primarily uses the kitchen to make lemon bars, brownies, creme brulees, and zucchini bread for props at her latest show. She is the employed woman!
Notice also the teensy weensy mouse trap, for Squeakers and Company, a visiting troupe of mice that has taken night residence in our home, eating crumbs, and leaving tell-tale mouse signs (that is, poop).

2006-09-13T08:25:00.000-07:00

My bedroom
I'm so proud of the curtains, because they're made of material I got at JoAnns on mega-sale. I take my influence from, as Trey I think called it, Scottish kilts. And I do love blue and green and white. I think this is the most put-together room I've ever had. I'm working, in my maturity, toward classy Bed and Breakfast style.

2006-09-13T08:23:00.000-07:00

The Sewing Room
Unfortunately, few projects other than hemming and curtains have been accomplished here ... yet.
I did, however, reuphoster the white chair. And that's an accomplishment.

2006-09-13T08:18:00.000-07:00

The Office
I'm typing there right now. We get an unsecured wireless network on the porch and nowhere else in the house. It's the wireless provided by a coffee house we used to frequent until we realized we could get their internet from home without purchasing $3 coffees. I like sitting here, listening to the fighting neighbors (gay Mormons we think, with a yippy dog named Sage) and barking at passing dogs.

What has passed ...

2006-09-12T16:17:00.000-07:00

I am content without a job. What a problem.

I like getting up at 9, starting the coffee pot, and taking an unharried, focused shower (as opposed to "showers on the edge" where death from slippage and poor eyesight was ever imminent at 6 am). I like drinking my coffee with too much creamer on my porch, scanning websites for job postings, researching movies to watch, checking out requirements for university grad programs.

I like taking ridiculously long walks, looking for architecturally cool houses to show Brendan or my housemates later in the day (there are some brilliantly beautiful Tudors and Gothic Revivals). I walk to JoAnns or grocery stores or libraries or coffee shops. I study cookbooks and store circulars and plan my shopping trips and meals.

I watch TV shows on DVD - good cancelled TV shows like Freaks and Geeks and Firefly. We're starting on the first season of Lost, which will be a rewatch, but it's a show with fascinating details.

Movies I have watched in my Down Time

2006-08-02T09:25:00.000-07:00

1. Victoria and Albert. It was a miniseries, so, not a movie, but a TV movie. This means low expecations. But with a cast that included Diana Rigg, David Suchet (of Poirot fame), and Nigel Hawthorne, I thought I could wade through the dross of untested actors. And it was not dross! It was a solid story, with fine characterization, and lots and lots of good ol' romance. Victoria is portrayed as nervous, but decisive, full of youthful vitality, but later, devoted and more peaceful. Albert is portrayed as an intellectual, who has a hard time assuming a role in the back seat; most of his story is a battle between resentment and duty. And there's a very interesting conflict as Albert asks Victoria to treat him as a husband, and not as a private object of her adoration. Because, if anything, you learn that she adored him, but was not blinded by him. Much to admire.

2. Like Something God Made. Another TV movie, but this time an HBO TV movie, which means a TV movie with cussing! Still low expectations. Mos Def (he's so gentle in his roles - I love that) plays a bright young carpenter accepted as a janitor into the service of Alan Rickman (curfuffle a'beat goes my heart), a Southern doctor experimenting on heart surgeries. Eventually, the doctor is moved to Johns Hopkins University, where he performs the very first human heart surgery on a blue baby. Meanwhile, Mos Def is struggling to be accepted as a black man in the research medical profession; eventually, surgical procedures he developed allowed him to gain recognition. He would become an honorary doctor and head of the research labs at Johns Hopkins. It's an inspiring story - based on a true story. Mos Def, like a mentioned previously, is a gentle actor, and softly, quietly portrays a stubborn man with a passion for science, but also for his own dignity. And Alan Rickman, whose Southern accent is sticky (just as his German accent was interesting in Die Hard), is brilliant in his portrayal of a man so interested in science, he sees no color blocking collaboration with his assistant. However, there is jealousy that develops over his assistant's surgical skill, that makes for interesting conflict. It was excellent, and there was only one scene with an F-bomb, where Alan Rickman's doctor gets mad at Mos Def's assistant for something trivial, and the assistant walks out, saying he is not to be treated that way. The doctor realizes he needs to keep his assistant, so he begins to treat him with civility. An interesting scene, where I'd say the cussing was a useful tool.

3. Everything is Illuminated. Directed by Liev Schrieber, and starring The Hobbit. A beautiful story about a young man who collects compulsively articles from his families history, who receives a picture from a dying grandmother of his grandfather as a young man and a girl who was not his grandmother. He had heard a story that this young girl saved his grandfather, who was a Jew, from being killed by the Nazis. He begins a journey, narrated by a young Ukrainian whose family business is to take rich, American Jews on tours to find information about dead relatives. The young Ukrainian, his own grandfather, The Hobbit, and a demented dog begin the journey, and find out interesting things about each other, such as The Hobbit does not eat meat, which the Ukrainians have a hard time believing ("Not even sausage?"). The grandfather is foul-mouthed and seems to be on a journey himself; you occasionally see flashbacks of his own past, and begin to infer that he has some memories repressed about the Nazi killings. The young Ukrainian is hilarious, and is fluent in English, with some very key words mixed up ("Did you repose?" "Did I what?" "You know" - makes sleeping gesture" - "repose?" Points to dog. "She is in repose right now."). Eventually, they do find the information they were looking for - and another collector - and then, tragedy, without explanation. A touching, simple movie. Go Liev!

4. Born into Brothels. I soooooooooo did not like the Oscar-winning documentary. It ran like a Save the Children ad. I kept saying to myself, "If only I could pay $22 a month, I could send that prostitute's son to college!" A young woman photographer lives in brothels in Calcutta, becomes close to the children there (because most of the women are married! Their husbands are pimping them out). She teaches a photography class, hoping to self-actualize the children. She then sells the pictures internationally, to make money to send the kids to private schools. Only some go to school. One of the children becomes an outright success, and travels the world because of his pictures. The young woman has started her own organization and school in India to teach photography to underprivileged children. And I want to give her money to help the kids. But I don't admire her film-making abilities. The documentary tried to be chronological as well as topical to each child, which made somewhat of a mess. And it addressed none of the issues that MUST be important to the children involving their own parents and their occupations (well, for one child - the very talented one - because his father was a hash addict, and then his mother was set on fire by her pimp, but these are just cursory details in a side story about getting the kid a passport). I read up on reactions to the documentary - most Indian natives are furious. They hate the idea of Western imperialism and interference still making way in India. Did the woman do good? Yes, she helped about seven children. Did she draw attention to the bigger problem of children living in brothels? Yes, she made an Oscar-winning film about it. Will there be a lasting impact? If her school stays afloat, but the American public conscious will let this slide, will say "it's not my problem; I'd rather isolate myself than correct injustice." Thought-provoking documentary, not well-made.

Pickychurs

2006-07-29T19:53:00.000-07:00

El Apartamento

There was a beautiful sunset behind this.

Attempting to rub me out.

I escape by using an effective punch to the arm. But what's in my ear?

Stockholm Syndrome: Identifying with your captor.