Walking Around in Other People's Dreams

I was talking to a student of mine today about who I used to be when I was his age, and I realized that the character I'd been describing never existed. That she, now me, changed too much to ever support anything but a flip label. I forget who I used to be, and someday I'll forget who I am today.
I feel like a snake shedding it's skin; I need a nice sharp rock to drag my body against. I'll be so pretty and shiny then. Now I can't speak or look or taste. A catalyst. I need a catalyst.
Do you remember your dreams? I do, with clarity. When I am dreaming it's as though I'm awake and while dreaming, if a mirror is present, I make it a point to look into it. Do you know what I see? A rippling, smudged image of a human. Not me, not anyone. Like I'm in someone else's dream.
I want to see myself at some point. I'll wait forever if I need to. I'm expecting. I'm not angry or confused. I'm expecting.

Peanut Butter and Bacon Sandwich

Virtue, however admirable, is frequently dull. Peanut butter needs enlivening. Try this mixture on the unconverted.
Combine:
3/4 cup peanut butter
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons pickle relish or chili sauce
1/4 cup cooked minced bacon
Toast on one side:
4 slices bread
Spread the untoasted side with the mixture. Broil the sandwiches until the tops are brown. Slice them diagonally.
The Joy of Cooking, 1971

The Oscars

For the first time in many years, I was able to watch the entirety of the Oscars last night. Some things that struck me:
The Wealth of Foreign Talent. Not a single American actor won any of the four acting categories.
The Disney Regime. Enchanted, Ratatouille and Miley all around.
The Exclusion of Brad. Apparently they didn't have time to include Renfro.
The Exclusion of Whoopi. No comment from the montage makers concerning this slight.*
On the stage, Once again. They cut her speech out and then she comes back on?
Ryan Seacrest. His outfit was silly.
Regis. Too much! Too, too much Reege!
The Bourne Movie. Lots of tech oscars went to this film. I think I'll watch it now.
The Two Dudes From Superbad. Wow, that was bad.
The OCD Coehn Brother. Lots of ear pulling, guy.
Diablo Cody's Day-to-Night Wear. At least it wasn't a red leopard print chemise.
Jack. Why?
The Clothing. Pretty is as pretty blah.
The Montages. Produced before or after the strike as a safety net?
John Travolta's Hair. Wow. Do you think it took two hours to do it?
All in all I had a fun time watching! I love how happy people look when they accept their award, as well as placing bets on obscure entries like Best Sound Editing or Best Costume. Apparently it was a ratings bomb (see above), but I will definitely try to tune in again next year.
*The Academy has apologized for their error.

Cooties

I am as bad as a man when I am unwell. The Princess and the Pea has nothing on me. Let me elaborate on my condition, gather round. My head is at once achy and floaty and unwilling to think. My body is like that Britney song, " Cause I'm cold as fire baby, hot as ice", which until this moment never made sense to me. I want to vomit. I am crabby, petulant, and without merit. Boo hoo, I'm fucking sick. It's times like these that I'm glad I'm a nobody. Did you hear that Elizabeth Taylor had it worked into her Cleopatra contract that she recieved a week off every month so that she could menstrate in peace? I know, I know, Cleopatra was a disaster, this was just another nail in that coffin, but come on. I am laid low by a nasty, potentially debilitating for several days bacterial something, and she gets a week off for her period? Nobodies have got the Somebodies beat in this race. At least my hissy fits are not published ............................................oh wait.
By the by, ginger and carrot juice are very good for common ailments. Add 1/4 cup of grated ginger to a hot bath, as well as epsom salt, and soak until you're wrinkled. Drink carrot juice several times throughout the day, as well as kombucha tea. Rest. Now go away.

The Namesake and the Good Body

I stumbled upon The Namesake after watching the trailer of the adaptation by Miss Mira Nair. I think it was before Once: a good movie incidentally. The winner of the Pulitzer Prize, this novel centers on a Bengali family as they adapt, in two generations, to American Life. Reading this novel I am reminded of John Updike; the Rabbit books or maybe S. Clear, erudite and objective, the book offers a glimpse into a world I've seen but never engaged in. The author sculpts her people carefully and slowly and I am curious to see how she concludes their stories. As for the film, I love Nair's palette. Vanity Fair was beautiful and thoughtful, and it gave poor Becky Sharp a little heart.
I found the Good Body completely by accident. The cover alone sold me, as I am a sucker for good humored references to the female form. It is a short book about the authors obsession with her body and other women who attempt to guide her to acceptance. Eve Ensler is best known for her Vagina Monologues and for sitting next to Jane Fonda when the actress said "cunt" on national television. I've never seen the Vagina Monologues. This little text is delightful in it's willingness to dish on our (female) bodies and how we (women) deal with it across the world. It's spirit is kind.

My Objective is Exhilarating!

The other day in class I showed my students a documentary called "The Art and Sport of Fashion", which was made somewhere around 1987. Did you see the Brenda Dickson "Welcome to my Home" video circulating the internet about four months ago? This fashion documentary is better (or worse if you are not inclined toward FANTASY and GLAMOR). The costume designer from Dynasty is featured as well as the costume head from Miami Vice. Models catwalk to Huey Lewis and the News. Eurotrash accessory designers preen in their own creations made from preserved turkey feet and scorpions. Sequins and chiffons are everywhere. There was one point in the documentary that every student burst out laughing it was so absurd and over the top. The art vocabulary for the day was Kitsch. I kid you not. Most seemed to have fun with it but there were some (boys) who couldn't deal with "fags or fashion".

Occasionally I feel like both an educator and an entertainer. Their education is not deprived nor is money misspent. Students walk away from my classes thinking about art in new or different ways than before they enrolled. They begin to see art everywhere as I do, which is what I really teach. If I choose to illustrate Kitsch by showing a vulgar, pretentious documentary 21 years old, I do so because it is fun and memorable as well as a valid learning experience. These students of mine believe, as I used to believe, that the forces of style and beauty are not just contemporary and youthful but eternal. After watching this trashy bit of dated fashion who also modeled itself as being contemporary, young and eternal, maybe they will gain a new perspective. As for the students who did not like the documentary they will nevertheless always remember the word kitsch.


This is my goal in any case. I find that I must pick up on as much knowledge as they must in order to successfully complete the course. It is strange and ironic that as I grade their competency, they evaluate mine.

Welcome to the Club

My little sister, the one whom I protected against hostile Indians, pedophiles and myself is now a mama. Welcome to the Club sister.
As a member of the club you will be afforded many honors. You will be assisted in times of peril and hardship as well as in times of gladness. You will know your sisters of the Club by means of Knowing Eyes, Knowing Smiles, and Helping Hands. We are legion. Your daughter will be protected not only by yourself but also by members of the Club. We have faith in you, I have faith in you, our mother has faith in you. Welcome, little sister!

The Writers Strike

I'm going through TV withdrawals. I am not lucky in the way some people are in that they will watch anything, everything the ninety channels cable grants them. Instead I love three little programs and with this damn strike (I support it; the claims are just) the writers have left me bereft of comedy. I miss:
The Office. Never has being consistently awkward so funny. I have worked for corporations before, and all of these characters have been my coworker or manager at some point. Who I miss the most: Dwight Shrute. The beet farm, Mose and Garbage, the evil glances aside, undying dedication to Michael and the primal howl weeping all wrapped up in a large goofy man. On the other hand, I feel a little short changed with the Pam/Jim stuff. I anticipated their realized attraction to each other for what, 3 seasons? Then all I got was a stolen kiss in her car. Who wrote that? Hopefully this strike will inspire the writers.
30 Rock. I think it's the spirit behind the performances and writing of this show that I love the most. I am not a New York City Person and likely will never become one, but the busyness of the city becomes fluid instead of daunting. Who I miss the most: All of them. This is a wonderful cast. Tina Fey is surprisingly adept, Alec Baldwin is a perfect straight man, Tracy Jordan makes everything funny. Kenneth, Jenna and Pete too are spot on. And the capers!
Always Sunny in Philidelphia. Watching this show is like hanging out with the funniest bunch of degenerate assholes you never wanted to hang out with. Nothing is sacred. Who I miss the most: Charlie. Just as much of an asshole as anyone else, but this little gingerbread man has heart. And a very short fuse.

La Vie en Rose

Going into this movie, I was unfamiliar with the life of Edith Piaf. I knew that she was "the" female French singer, that she had a drug problem, but I had little else to go on. What a surprise this film was to me! I loved the nonlinear approach to the storyline, the rich use of colors and textures, but most of all I loved the woman who portrayed Edith. This actress, who is only a year older than myself, disappeared into Edith. There wasn't any Method nonsense, she did not rely on her own personality traits, nor did she flinch from the unattractive or pathetic aspects of the character. Instead this actress somehow allowed Edith's successes, failures, passions and demons her body and voice. It was an amazing performance.
But look! On the poster it says exactly what I just said. I should be a propagandist, huh?