A Blissfully Boring Day

I've been off work today and yesterday. It's been lovely. And today, I had the house to myself. One of the biggest challenges for me adjusting to having roommates again is that, with four people in the house, it's very hard to get alone time. Especially since none of us are particularly quiet.

But today I slept until I woke up, which was very nice. My sleep has been awful since my meds ran out and the VA is engaging in an epic East Coast/West Coast battle about who should fix that problem. I got up, made a cup of strong tea with honey, had a Dana Roll* with butter and honey, and caught up on Google Reader. It was a beautiful way to start the day, especially with a lot of the doors and windows opened in the house so the pretty day came in (it was in the 60s).

I then tackled my jewelry situation. My jewelry box has moved all over the place this year and, in the process, has become a disastrous mess. I put hooks on the wall and moved all the necklaces there, then properly cleaned out all the little jewelry bags and boxes that come with gifts but then sit empty, taking up space. Watches and pins moved into the small jewelry box I use for traveling. I have a metal jewelry tree that now holds the hoop and dangly earrings I wear most often along with the smaller bracelets. In the main, large jewelry box are the larger, chunkier bracelets (which will eventually get their own home on the wall), the stud and lesser-used dangly earrings, all my rings, costume pieces, broaches, cuff links, and a few delicate necklaces that would tangle terribly if hung on the wall. I can see most of what I wear daily and it's tidy. Huzzah!

Now I'm getting through the morning email while working on a knitting project for Christmas. All the knitting things can be found at ravelry.com for those who are fellow knitters and crocheters.

Review: J. Edgar

As a avowed Leonardo Dicaprio fan, I have been wanted to see J. Edgar since it came out, but it managed to disappear through the cracks along with many others. Tonight, that was rectified.

J. Edgar is a biographical film of J. Edgar Hoover focused on his time in the FBI...which is everything except the first 24 years of his life, which are touched on through reference and flashback with him mother, played by Dame Judi Dench. Armie Hammer is fantastic as Clyde Tolson and Naomi Watts is the formidable Helen Grandy. The combination of Hammer, Watts, and Dicaprio creates a really fascinating triangle that allows a certain depth to the movie that would have been missing otherwise. Clint Eastwood continues his stellar directorial career.

The movie is incredibly accurate by most biographers notes. It touches on the cross-dressing rumors (which are disputed) and examines the relationship with Tolson, which has a lot of credible backing. Considering the man was the eminent spook, and had files on everyone without much existing on him, they did a great job at building a narrative that was credible and wove together what is known (such as the senate hearings and public statements) with the gaping holes in historical record.

Hoover is someone that intrigues me for many reasons, both personal and professional. The movie was compelling and makes me want to read more about him, which I think it indicative of a good biopic. The cast is stellar, including some excellent cameos (this was one of those "Hey, that guy!" movies). The movie is restrained to great benefit - I never felt that it was portraying Hoover as a character, but as a very nuanced man. It should also be said that the aging work was fantastic, covering over 50 years.

I highly recommend it.

Principles of Knitting - Knitting Methods

I'm in a study group reviewing the new edition of Principles of Knitting. The book is basically a textbook of knitting skills and techniques. It is dense and thorough. It's not really a guide for a new knitter, but it's fantastically technical, which I love.

Tonight we did chapter 1, which is ways to hold the needles. I read the chapter beforehand and found her terminology interesting. She doesn't use English and Continental, but Right-Hand Method and Left-Hand Method. She also distinguishes Right-Finger Method, which is where the yarn is around the right finger and thrown.

In the groups, we each showed how we knit. I'm a Left-Hand knitter, as were seven of us in our small group. Three are Right-Hand knitters and one used a modified Under Arm method, where she tucked the long needles into her hip. Terry, my boss and our group facilitator, easily switches between several styles of knitting, including knitting reverse of the standard (aka Left Hander's Knitting). We talked about the advantage of having an alternate style of knitting and we all swapped styles. I'm working on Right-Finger Method, which is basically the opposite of what I do now.

We also discussed in large group (about thirty of us) some of the other methods, like the Thumb Method in which the yarn is held around the neck, and an alternate form which hangs the yarn from a pin on the shirt, known as the Danish Method. It was interesting to hear one of the Learn to Knit teachers that she heard the same complaints from the experienced knitters learning new methods that she does from the new knitters. That gave us some perspective.

One of the comments that struck me was that the woman who tucks her long needles wanted to learn to "pick" (Left Handed Method) because she has Fibromyalgia and needs a form that takes as little effort as possible. We discussed this - my desire to learn Right Finger Method is, in part, because I expect a day in the future when my left hand doesn't function as well as it does now and I want an alternate method in place.

I find the study interesting. We do cast ons next month, of which there is 34 pages written. But until we begin that chapter, I'm practicing my Right Finger Method in addition to cleaning up my Left Handed Method to find the most economical knitting.

How to Measure a Man

We are all familiar with the idea that if you want to judge the character of a man, you look at how he treats his inferiors. An ex of mine translated that to mean how people judge service people, specifically waiters. The problem with that is the reason that was always included - waiters can poison/spit in your food.

What that says to me is that you should treat people well...if they can respond in some way that might hurt you. That hardly seems like the measure of a person to me.

So, truly, I think the measure of someone is how they treat road crews. They're in your way, it's almost always at an inconvenient time and place, and you generally don't see the direct results of their work. If the person in question swears at them, honks at them, or generally is rude to people trying to do their job...now that's the measure of a man (or woman). 

So much for that...

After a month of classes, I find out that I'm not a student.

I called Admissions today since my application has been listed as Pending awhile and I need my student ID to take my calculus test tomorrow. After they review my file, they tell me that they are no longer processing applications for the fall semester, even though I submitted the application over a month ago.

As you can imagine, this is incredibly disappointing given that I've been going to class.

So I'm trying to focus on the positives:
- I don't have to pay the application fee when I apply for Spring.
- Advanced Calculus is offered in the summer, so I'll be able to complete Calculus 3 and Advanced before the fall, as originally planned.
- I can still write off the school expenses on my taxes.
- The first month of Calc 3 next semester should be a breeze.

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...

Review: Being Elmo: A Puppeteer's Journey (2011)

This had been sitting in my Netflix queue for awhile, but I got a chance to watch it after a bad day where I was stuck in bed. Might as well make use of it, right?

Being Elmo is the story of Kevin Clash, the man behind the puppet Elmo as we currently know him. It tells the story of his upbringing outside of Baltimore, his early love of puppets, and how he became a puppeteer for Jim Henson. Clash is currently a co-executive producer for Sesame Street, as well as the only puppeteer who handles Elmo.

I find puppets interesting, which is why I wanted to watch it, but I didn't expect the story to be so touching. It covers the challenges that the popularity of Elmo has caused for Clash as he spends a great deal of time away from his daughter. The creative process involved, the training for puppeteers - the entire film was much more detailed than I expected. I also got sniffly a few times, especially when Elmo meets with Make-a-Wish kids, with whom he is very popular. Clash appears to be a man who genuinely cares about the people that Elmo touches.

The film also shows him investing in the next generation of puppeteers. When a child who is interested in identified, he invites them to see where he works, interacting with them as a fellow professional, asking to see their puppets and discuss technique. This was done for him when he was a teenager by legendary puppeteer Kermit Love and you can see him passing along that legacy. To me, that shows the character of the man. He is reportedly one of the highest paid puppeteers every between merchandising (all the Elmo voices is him) and appearances, but he takes the time to help inspire people who want to do what he does. For a niche field such as puppeteering, that's so incredibly important.

I recommend this to anyone who has the time to sit and watch it. It's fascinating to see how the puppets are made, how puppeteers are trained, what goes into some of them, but also knowing that a man like Clash is behind Sesame Street makes me warm inside.

Go Sun Devils!

That was my moment of school pride.

University Drive from the bridge

For those unaware, I am a student at Arizona State University (Tempe). I'm only enrolled in Calc 3 at the moment, but I'm enjoying it. Class is at 7:30 in the morning, which is challenging some mornings, but I'm managing to make it somehow. We're also back to using Course Compass, which is a program I used for College Algebra, Pre-Calculus, and Calc 1, so I like it very much.

ASU has a different feel to it than SUNY OW did, which is not surprising given they are on opposite sides of the country. The campus is very active when I get out of class at 8:20 (adjusting to 50 minute classes was interesting when I'm used to 100 minute), where SUNY was a ghost town until the 10:20 block. There are bikes everywhere and rows and rows of bike racks available for students. All parking is paid (oye), which encourages students to bike whenever possible. If it was a little closer, I'd be tempted.

I have entered into an email conversation with the head violin professor about tracking down a student to teach. Her response when I asked if they were available was to ascertain which teaching style fits me best so she can pair me with the correct teacher. I like her already! I'm hoping to begin lessons next month - I miss playing.

The biggest downside for me is that the ASU colors are gold and maroon. And it's not a shade of gold I can wear. Maroon isn't terrible, but it doesn't do much for me. Gold is the primary color, so I'm hunting for an ASU shirt that is primarily white with gold on it. SUNY OW's big advantage was that green is one of my best colors.

However, you can't beat the walk to class.

Historic Palm Walk. My building is on the left.

Vegas, Baby

This past weekend I had my first adult trip to Vegas. I simply have not been since I turned 18. We went for Sean's birthday and the group of 6 was a perfect size and mix. We all stayed at the Luxor, which seemed to position us pretty well given that we had a car and could drive to the other end of the strip when needed.

Saturday:

We got in and had drinks with Dan and Lisa at the Luxor bar, which was lovely. The sheer amount of people was a little overwhelming, but I found a quiet spot in the lounge where we hung out for a bit. We then went upstairs to settle in (14th floor, West Tower) and get ready for dinner. The steak at Del Frisco's was perfect and the service was really excellent, though I maintain you get better service when you dress well, which we all did. The James Bond wine table was really cool - if you go for dinner there, make sure they show it to you. Afterwards, we were all tired so we just went back to our rooms and slept. I love hotel beds - and turn down service at the Luxor includes lots of chocolate.

Sunday:

After leftovers for breakfast (nom nom), Valerie and headed to the pool. Sadly, the Luxor pool was closed (I later discovered it was because something had spilled in the pool - we guess bodily fluids), so we went to the Excalibur pool, which was allowing Luxor guests. As you can imagine, it was packed between the two hotels, which was disappointing. We stayed a bit, then returned to the Luxor to clean up. We did get to enjoy the people watching at the pool, which had us in stitches several times.

Pool time was followed by a trip to Neil's lovely house, where we played with the really really adorable puppy named Sega. I had already been fighting mild pain for a few days (enough that Sean asked if I wanted to cancel), but by the time we got to Neil's, it had really flared up. I settled into the lovesac and was soon medicated. I was also fed by Neil, who makes bitchin' steaks.

We had tickets that night for Absinthe at Ceaser's Palace and met there. I had no idea what to expect and was wow'd by the entire thing. The acrobats were all fantastic and the show was incredibly funny, if very raunchy. The old couple sitting next to us never cracked a smile (which made me wonder if they spoke English) but the woman had tears in her eyes after the "bodygaurd" act. They were awesome.

Following Absinthe were the craps tables at Excaliber. I wasn't interested in playing and wandered the casino a bit, but watched about 3 hours of craps. Everyone ended up, which was awesome, even after Sean got down to $20. I guess that's the drama of Vegas.

Monday:

We all met at the Luxor buffet for breakfast and to say goodbye to Lisa and Dan, who took off early. Sean and I went exploring some since I hadn't seen Vegas and really wanted to see the Venetian. I bought a hat at their hat store and it was generally a lot of fun. We met Valerie and Jesse at Nine Fine Irishman in New York, New York, where we got to listen to Sin E Ri Ra play. Dinner was great and I have to work on perfecting the bread-and-butter pudding now that I know Valerie likes it. Theirs was inspirational. We poked around New York, New York, then went to the Bellagio to watch the fountain show. En route, we discovered pretty girls in boxes at The Cosmopolitan, so Valerie and I led the charge to explore it. It's a casino designed for us! Pretty girls in boxes, everyone was dressed up, Bond-themed bar menu, high heel-shoe chairs...We were in heaven.

Sean and I returned to Nine Fine Irishman and listened to the band while we had another Magners, then returned to the hotel for a bath (awesome soaking tub) and a serious coma brought on by being warm, good food, and the most expensive room service tea ever.

We left on Tuesday and had a nice drive back. It was a relaxing trip once I adjusted to the sheer crush of people and array of tacky. I think I would have preferred the old Vegas, where children weren't common and people dressed for their evenings, but I can appreciate the new Vegas too.

Review: A Film Unfinished (2010)

Today I watched A Film Unfinished, a 2010 documentary showing an unfinished propaganda film made by the Third Reich in the Warsaw Ghetto in May 1942, a few months before it was cleared. The original work is about an hour long, so the documentary runs about and hour and a half with the commentary. In addition to the film itself there are interviews with people who lived there at the time while they are watching the film as well as voiceover readings of court transcripts from one of the cameramen, journals from the Chairman of the Judenrat within the Ghetto, and letters from the SS officer in charge of the Ghetto.

The documentary is a look into one of the most fascinating areas of Third Reich for me - the propaganda machine that the Nazis created. Though the film lacks soundtrack or commentary in it's original form, other sources help narrate what we're seeing and provide context. The film oscillates between staged scenes of a luxurious life that some Jews apparently lived and the extreme poverty of others, focusing on the lack of sharing between the two. They also filmed staged aspects of Jewish religious life, including a life-threatening circumcision outside of a hospital.

One of the things the documentary does well is provide commentary on day-to-day life in the Ghetto, as well as the effect is had on those within it. When one of the women discusses how they became indifferent to the suffering of others, you can hear the pain it causes her to say such because she knows it's terrible, but she also knows that it was what she had to do to survive this. There are several stories that are similar and each one of them is paired with visuals from the original film that either prompted the story or illustrate it.

The documentary is a little slow and most of it is subtitled with the only English provided by the filmmaker. Many of the images are hard to watch, though if you have watched other films of this era, the images of starving people and corpses will feel familiar. But it's an interesting look at an incomplete project of the Third Reich. I probably won't watch it again, but I'm glad I watched it.

A Film Unfinished is currently available on Netflix online streaming.

Having It All...Eventually

A few years ago, during a particularly difficult part of life (or, as I call it, the Worst Year Ever), I made a list of the things I wanted from life. A lot of these are check-the-box goals, things that are visible rather than the esoteric goals like "To be Happy" or somesuch. I like things I can touch and feel...and attain. Some of this list looks like this:

• Gain an advanced degree, preferably a PhD
• Get married again
• Have kids (2)

The last one is a bit of a kicker given that my body refuses to cooperate in most areas of my life. But, with a little patience and money (and science!), kids are a possibility. I also get the joy of forever telling my children they were a science experiment, which I am looking forward to. 

The biological challenges of having children handled to a degree (or at least planned for), I am now looking at timeline for things. I need a timeline, even a flexible one, in order to function. Obviously the second on that list is a preferable first step (I considered having kids without getting married, or buying (read: adopting) one, but I don't think I can take care of one on my own), but I have faith there. Ideally, I'd like to be done with children-having by mid-thirties. This is, in large part, due to my concerns about the continued decline of my health. While someone else's healthy uterus will be baking  my offspring and my eggs are hearty, it is simply a basic reality of me that I can not walk on some days. While I pray for better management options or a cure for fibromyalgia, the truth is that it is degenerative and usually gets worse as people age. There is a great possibility that The Great Decline won't come until I'm into my 40s or 50s, but I don't know that. I want to be able to play with my children and the older I get, the less likely that will become. So, mid-thirties is my goal.

Well, now we've got a problem. If I was independently wealthy, this wouldn't be an issue. I could go to 5 years of grad school while having children since I don't need the physical recovery time of delivery. But I'm not independently wealthy and having children is more involved than nature intended. The cost of having a child this way could be as much as 100k per child between surrogacy and IVF. Unless Santa brings that one year, it's going to be financially difficult to make that happen without working full time. Some people are hardcore and can go to school and work full time. I applaud and envy them, but I am not one of them. And while I've got good reasons for not wanting to wait overlong on children, I don't have a good reason not to put off grad school other than "I don't wanna". 

So while I'm disappointed at realizing that I may have to put off one dream for the other, I realize that I can, in the end, have both. And that's the important part.

Arizona Resident

Isn't the desert beautiful?

I am now an Arizona resident. I've been here a week and I have a driver's license that says so. It also doesn't expire until 2047. Woohoo.

The trip was fine, though exhausting. It got above 100 twice on our trip, and Indy and I had an agreement that when it got above 100, the window would be rolled up and the AC would come on. Blessed AC. We got a later start than we wanted because my tires were being cranky and my dad was (understandably) reluctant to let me traipse into the desert without good tires. Once they were fixed, we were on the road. We pulled in a little after midnight, in desperate need of a shower and bed. And never had a shower been so lovely.

Since then, we've gotten settled in the new house. Indy and Fray, the resident dog, get along well. He gets along less well with the cats...or I should say they don't get along well with him. He wants to be friends - they hide. But they've got a few months to adjust before Indy becomes a full time resident in their home, so hopefully it will be generally painless.

I'm starting to check services off the list. I have found a good local coffee place and a cobbler. I'm undecided on the salon I went to, so we'll see on that. The locals have been very good at providing suggestions for other services, so I'll be checking into those over the next few weeks. Priority number one is getting classes sorted since they start next Thursday.

But all told, it's been pretty good. I feel comfortable here and it's an easy fit. Hopefully, this will be my last major move for a very long time.

Review: Charmed (all 8 seasons)

Isn't it amazing that we can watch an entire run of a show in one sitting, if we so choose, online? I was thinking the other day about how, even a few years ago, you had to buy all the seasons you wanted, and many of them weren't available on DVD. Now, thanks to Netflix and similar services, we can watch it all for a fraction of the cost. Genius.

Anyway, I just finished all 8 seasons of Charmed. The show is fantastic until about season 7, when it slows down. This is also when my patience for Rose McGowan wore out, so I admit I might be biased. However, the end of season 8 was so well done. I get frustrated when a story that I've been engaged in and characters that I've gotten to know end without me knowing what happens "next". What are their lives like until they die? The story doesn't end, for me, until the characters do. One of the things Charmed did well was give us the future. We know what happened next, who married who, which kids were had, etc. We know that Wyatt becomes all powerful, but a good guy, and he and Chris lead the next generation of Halliwells (of which there are 9). I like that we know this!

I admit I got sniffly. Phoebe (Alyssa Milano) finally found her love and got married in a flash-forward, which was sweet and her Holy Grail. Piper (Holly Marie Combs) got Leo back (and we love having Brian Krause back cause he's pretty) and they had a third child. And Paige (McGowan) has her kiddies and becomes a Whitelighter guru blah blah (sorry, she really irritates me). So they got what they wanted, in the end, and redeemed Billie (Kaley Cuoco). I'm a sucker for a happy ending.

Eight seasons is an investment. In the end, the writers and creators made Charmed worth the investment. To me, that's a good ending to a series.

New Symptom, Old Problem

One of the difficulties of chronic medical conditions is that when new symptoms crop up, you can't always know if it's part of an existing issue, a complication of a medication, or something unrelated. This can be especially confusing when you have multiple chronic problems that have overlapping symptoms. Because of this, I spend a lot of time on WebMD.com. I also call my doctors often, but because my worst conditions cover three different departments (Gynecology, Rheumatology, and Psychology - my joint issues are pretty stable) getting a consensus can take more than one phone call.*

This morning, I woke up with the shakes. It's becoming more common, though they generally pass after an hour or so. I've noticed it happens more when my fibro is acting up, so I have reason to suspect it's related to that, though the way that other problems interact doesn't allow me to rule those out completely. The initial glance at WebMD.com suggests hypoglycemia, though I've always had good blood sugar. If that's the case, it's easily maintained and not a big deal, so I'll bring it up next time I go to the doc.

Doctors run into this problem too. When there's a mess of symptoms, it's hard to work out what's a result of what. This leads to a lot of "let's try this treatment and see if it works" kinda thing. My fibro went unacknowledged for over a year because it was hard to suss out from the Endo and PTSD. We did eventually (so. many. tests.), but this sort of thing is very common (as is over diagnosis). Medicine may be a science, but it's inexact at best. I feel very lucky that this was all done at the VA, where my doctors aren't incentivized to test and medicate me for the sake of the insurance payouts. The only medication I'm on regularly is the NuvaRing, which serves as a hormone regulator for the endometriosis, so we have one less variable. I'll reach a point where I'll need something for the fibro and I have Percocet for those days when the endo flares up, but the days of 20 pills are still (hopefully far) in the future (and in the past - we've walked that road before).


*I consider myself very lucky that the VA uses a unified electronic records system, so one doctor can review the records from another, which makes this less of an issue, but still annoying.

Changing Your Perspective

Thanks to a combination of family, the Army, and life, I have now lived in California, Oklahoma, South Carolina, South Korea, Maryland, Virginia, and New York. I'm about to add another state and check off Mountain Time, but that's 6 states and 2 countries, covering 4 time zones.

Not only has this assured that I can pack incredibly well when motivated, but it means I've seen a lot of ways of life. My sister's marriage gave me access to another way of life I was distantly but not directly exposed to - the rural upbringing of her husband. I know beach bums on both sides of the country (they're different based on which ocean they worship), farmers, city girls...I love having access to so many perspectives, even though I know I couldn't live many of those lives.

I get frustrated with people who never force themselves to see other perspectives. The military is great for that. My brother-in-law, whom I adore, had never met a black person before he joined the Air Force. He saw the ocean for the first time dating my sister and all sorts of new experiences while serving two Iraq deployments. He was able to make decisions about the kind of life he wanted, both in the ways it would be similar to his own and the ways it would be different, based on the fact that he had seen something other than the rural, somewhat secluded upbringing of southeastern Oklahoma.

There are ways other than the military, if you're brave enough to try them. After my sister, who spent most of her life in Oklahoma, graduated from high school, she chose to move to the DC area and live with one of my dearest friends. For a year, she associated with a variety of people she hadn't accessed before - people who lived differently and believed differently than she had been raised to live and believe. She made the choice to return to Oklahoma and raise her family here, but not because it was her only choice, but be cause it was the one she wanted to make based on having seen, and understood, another point of view. She's considerably more open to others and interested in their views because of the time she spent in another area.

Less you think this is a problem constrained to the middle of the country, it is one I saw in New York over and over. People who had never lived, or even extensively visited, other areas of the country, other ways of living, but are so quick to dismiss it as a possibility. They scoff at the "flyover states" without ever considering that there might be something there for them, even if it's only another perspective. How can you say, definitively, that X is what you want when you've never seen Y? There's a perspective that I heard again and again in the northeast (and other areas, but it's overt in the northeast) about where they live and that nowhere could be as good. So many wear it as a badge of superiority, but I always thought it was sad when it came from people who never ventured out of the area. Are you so scared to push your own opinions that you have to dismiss others?

Having been so lucky as to see much of the country and some of the world (though so much more remains on my "to visit" list in both categories), I am now looking to settle and establish roots. I have a clear picture of the life I want to have and how I want to live, based on getting to try on a few options both directly and vicariously through others. I can't imagine making those decision based on a lack of choice, rather than an abundance of it. My best friend is taking her first big step towards her life goals. She mentioned she's scared and I told her that I like to think of fear as your body saying "Pay attention!" rather than "Don't!". She doesn't have to run towards like I do (I admit to a reckless streak in me), but the fact that she is rationally choosing her path, even though it's scary, as one that will expand rather than limit her perspectives makes me incredibly proud of her. It takes courage.

Rain on a Tin Roof

My parents own 300 acres, as seen recently in the Asher post. Kellie and I were talking about the future and we decided we really want a cabin out there that will hold the entire family (which is growing rapidly) and will be a place where kids can hang out. The current hunting cabin only sleeps 8 and is not kid-friendly. So we started mentally designing and planning the Asher Cabin.

We envision it being built on the flat spot over the big pond that my parents chose when they considered living on the property. We see a large, open downstairs with a kitchen area, dining area (large table), fireplace (maybe two), and sitting area. Lots of windows, probably east facing so that it gets warm in the winter, with storm shutters so we can protect the glass and block out sun in the summer. There would be stairs to a loft, where half walls will divide beds (reserved for adults always).

There are challenges to this. Running electricity out that far is expensive (we have electric on the main road, but we'd have to run it in and only the first two poles are free), so we'd have to plan for, initially, no electricity (though possibly a generator). Plumbing also doesn't run out there, so we'd have to plan for no running water, including toilets. But eventually, we could add a septic tank and maybe drill a well (we have several natural springs). It'd be a bit rustic to start, but it's the middle of the woods, what do you expect?

Kellie and I talked about the added bonus after mom and dad are gone - we'd have a "family home". Big enough to accommodate both our families, we see Christmas trees (we cut ours from Asher anyway) and fires and lots of kids and, someday, grandkids. We even timelined the building of it (my dad always says for anything that's happening, he's got a daughter with a list and a daughter with a plan). Our parents are preparing to expand their house (three additions), so after that's done (we're calling it 18 months even though dad says a year) then we can start actually laying plans. By then, we should all be able to pitch in, so it's three households helping pay for it instead of one.

Last night, I fell asleep to the sound of rain on my sister's metal roof. I think we should have a metal roof at the Asher Cabin, just so we can sleep to the sound of rain on it.

And we'll even let the hunters use it when we're not there...

Unexpected Joy

Tonight, my parents went to the 70th birthday part of a member of my parents' Sunday School class, Floyd. I've met him and his wife, Becky, before at church and at a few get-togethers at my parents' house, but I don't know them very well. I could tell my mom wanted to spend more time together (we got our nails done and poked around antique stores this afternoon) and that they expected to not know a lot of the people there. Floyd is a car enthusiast (he drove his Edsel) and his car club was most of the people there. So I went, mainly to keep my parents company.

No need, of course. My parents never met strangers (my sister and I come by it honestly) and enough of their Sunday School class was present that they were kept socially happy the entire time. I settled in to ignore people after wishing the birthday boy happiness, only to be bombarded by his wife (who might be one of my favorites). Soon I was talking to people there about tracing family lines, NYC, and other various topics. We stayed around after everyone had left to help clean up and chat with Floyd and Becky.

It struck me, later, how something I had no interest in doing produced some beautiful moments. An elderly couple told me how they were both from OKC, but he had moved to California as a child. Incredible happenstance brought them together, back in OKC as young adults. His parents were welders during WWII. His mother was so small, they put her in the tight places to weld since she could fit. We discussed how my maternal grandfather couldn't join because he was so small, all his uniforms would have had to be custom fitted, so he made A26 Invaders in Tulsa, where he met my grandmother, who was a wing inspector for the B24 Liberator made in the same factory. It was just a lovely moment.

So we go to things we don't care about, but if we go with an open mind, sometimes we'll leave with a beautiful new moment.

Hard Labor in the Heartland

Today I woke up at an egregious hour to join my dad on our property in Asher for a morning of work. The early hour wasn't so much of a problem as the heat. It was 90 by 9 am and 110 when we left at 1. Oye.

My parents own 300 acres of undeveloped land in Asher, OK. They've owned it most of my life (bought in 1987). My uncle Tom and his boys (and their boys) have used it for hunting property for years. My dad doesn't hunt, but he goes out with them some times to read a book and enjoy the company.

Originally, the land was undeveloped entirely. Now, there's a hunting cabin, shed, and outhouse (recent addition!) in a area that previously was setup with tents. Dad has used the land to drop trees for firewood and we get our Christmas trees from there. Now, he and my brother-in-law have started reworking the land to make parts of it marketable for hay or general grazing land. It's not easy work - dad says the land was used to plant cotton and terraced accordingly, which has now caused deep ravines of erosion. We've got to fill those ravines, which means hauling burned out trees (we had a fire a few years ago from someone dropping a cigarette on the roadside) into them, evening out the slopes to discourage future erosion, and moving the dirt to bury the trees. That's long, hard work in the sun and we're all doing our time.

We took Indy out with us. He did well, despite the heat. He checked in on each of us working, then crawled under the truck. I got to drive the Bobcat awhile and knock an hour off of my needed 15 to get licensed. My biggest challenge is that you need to be able to provide weight on your feet and hands at the same time, which is hard when you're struggling to reach the peddles, but I manage. 






Overall, it was a good, if incredibly hot day. And the shower I got when I came home might have been the most glorious thing ever. I got to break in mom's snake boots (I haven't lived somewhere where they were necessary in a long time) and see my dog survive as a country dog. I also got a reminder of how beautiful it is out there. I couldn't live in it - the isolation would kill me - but it's great to visit. I now need my family to build a proper cabin for staying in so we can go and enjoy it. 


More pictures available at Asher album.

Three Kinds of Bad Days

I have three kinds of Bad Days. The worst is the Really Bad Day. Those are the days where I can't move, where I avoid drinking anything because it would mean having to go the bathroom, and that requires moving. Those are the days when even typing hurts and when thinking in nearly impossible. Those happen most often when it's cold or as a result of a Kinda Bad Day (see below).

The next is a Bad Day. This is a day where things hurt, walking is slow and achy, but I can walk and I can (mostly) function. My brain is a little fuzzy, but I can put together sentences. I shouldn't drive and I'm really bad at making choice decisions (a or b).

The least type is a Kinda Bad Day. I'm usually achy, and pain is present, but I can push through the day. The danger with this kind of day is that if I push too hard, I end up with a Really Bad Day the next day. Learning this lesson has been one of the hardest parts of accepting the new version of life that has become mine.

Today is a Bad Day. Slow to move, in pain, but I can function. I was able to watch my nephew (he hung out in bed with me) while his mom did some stuff, I just couldn't lift him above my head (no airplane) or get out of bed while holding him. I watched Tombstone, then moved to the front room, where I've been on the computer while laid out. I read everything I type three or four times to make sure it makes sense, I can't work on my thesis, and getting a cup of tea takes 20 minutes, but it could be a lot worse.

Why Do They Yell?

Being home with my family, I've gone to church more this summer than I have since 2004, which is to say, three times thus far. The first was to my parents' church for Father's Day. Their Sunday School class is a lot of fun and made up of great people. Their pastor, on the other hand, is a mission focused pastor, who would have every heathen converted. I don't have a lot of patience for that type.

The second time was in California, when we went to our old church (Immanuel Baptist in Highland) to hear the pastor we grew up with, Rob Zinn, preach. I love that man. I didn't agree with everything he said, but I like his message and his attitude. His sermon was basically about how judgement has no place among God's people, but to approach others with love.

Today was church three, as I attended Sunday School and church with my sister and brother-in-law. They're class was also a lot of fun, and you can see the group environment and learning. Kellie attended the church when Brandon was in Iraq, but she wasn't a member yet (they joined after he returned). Even so, they took care of her, taking her out to lunch and ensuring she wasn't too alone. That's the kind of community I expect from a church, and I was glad she had it. The sermon made me ask the question, "Why do Southern Baptist* preachers yell?" Kellie said that he didn't usually get so excited, but it's a common thing. They seem to think that if they yell at you, you'll hear them better. Rob gets loud, that's for certain, but you can see the excitement in what he's saying pour off of him. But for most, it just seems like they're yelling so you'll think they're serious.

I haven't been a member of a church since I left high school. Technically, I'm still a member at University Baptist Church in Shawnee, since I never transferred my letter of membership. I've been involved in a couple of Catholic communities since I left, but I've never joined a church. I don't like most aspects of community worship and the message that comes from the majority of the pulpits is one that chafes me greatly. Anytime someone teaches exclusion or superiority (which is often how a mission-oriented minister sounds) or hate, they've lost me entirely.

I haven't had much use in my life for a church, and I don't see that changing soon. Faith is a very private matter to me and I don't have the desire to share it, especially not in the manner that proselytizing faiths employ. It's been nice to visit a range of churches, to see what I like and don't like about them. But I don't see a return to them for me in the near future. Maybe, someday, a faith based community will call to me again. But not now. And never to one that yells.

*I'm sure other ministers yell. My experience is with the SBC.

Colorguard Mini-Reunion

When I was in high school, I was in colorguard my sophomore through senior year. I was captain my senior that, during which we had 16 new girls on a 21 girls squad. I grew very close to those girls during that year, starting the grueling summer schedule off with a sleepover at my house. I hope I made the schedule of fundraisers and summer training less painful by trying to develop an esprit de corps. It remains some of my fondest high school memories.

Today, we had a little mini-reunion with some of the girls. A few from later years came too, but I was the oldest and several my freshmen were there. They're wives, mothers, and professionals now, but they still look like they did then, at least to me. We met in a park, nothing fancy, and brought our own lunches. Some of the girls have remained friends. We talked about what happened after I left and they told me about the trial and tribulations (and oh, the drama!) that they suffered. It was a lot of fun.

One of the girls, who I distinctly recall suffering the most from our horrible uniform which created incredibly unflattering tan lines, sat down next to me shortly after she arrived with her adorable nine-month-old in tow. She told me that the opening sleepover had really been an awesome thing for her since she didn't know the other girls and was nervous, and that I had been a great leader. That was the first time that someone has told me that something I did in high school mattered to them. It was incredibly sweet.

While I was unsure about the entire thing to begin with, I have to say I had a fabulous time. I ended up spending the rest of the day with my godchildren and their mother, which included teaching my 11-year-old goddaughter the boxstep (in heels) and how to curtsy. Overall, a really enjoyable day, rather unexpectedly.

Time with Sister

Proof that Oklahoma has hills.

I spent today and yesterday with my sister, her son, and her husband at their house. They've got 10 acres and it's just beautiful out there. They've got a large creek and pond, which floods their pastureland, but their house is on a hill so they don't have to worry about it flooding their home. Lots of trees and space for them to have a large vegetable patch.

Once she finished work today, we went to the coffee shop, which is a really cool locally owned place that outlasted Starbucks (and also made the best chai latte I've ever had) and chatted. It was nice to get to talk and relax - and the little man was an angel. We talked about perceptions and how meeting people does amazing things to change that. For example, anyone who went to Basic Training at Ft. Sill knows that Oklahoma is not flat. The three counties of the panhandle are, but the rest of it is foothills, mountains (little ones, but still mountains), and lots and lots of water (the most man made coastline in the country). The dirt, however, is red and will stain your clothes. That's true.

We also talked about the idea that exposure reduces the harsh opinions of other groups. People are people, whether they be straight people, gay people, black people, white people...I explained the idea in the gay community that if everyone were to come out to their families, it would go a long way in reducing the hate that comes with the unknown. It's so much harder to hate all gays when that includes your child. That doesn't make it easy, certainly, and I understand the fears. But Kellie seemed to get the concept and we talked about gay marriage and such.

I remember when my sister asked me how it's possible for it to be okay to be gay. She was in high school, barely, and encountering the issue for the first time. What she wanted to know was how to reconcile it with the Bible. I set her up with a dear friend of mine who answered her questions, someone who was gay and had studied the issue. Living with me in DC, she got her first exposure to members of the community, rather than just individuals. And she came out of it with an incredibly mature understanding that people are people and you have to love all people, you can't pick and choose. It makes me so very proud of her.

The (tiny) Guilt of Not Breastfeeding

One of the truths to being me is that I can't carry a child through pregnancy. I don't mind, it was never something that was important to me. It is something incredibly important to my sister, who is healthy as a horse and had a relatively smooth first pregnancy and lightning fast labor (hour and a half - of which 20 minutes was in the car on the way to the hospital!). Basically, this isn't a problem, it's just life and I'm fine with it. I think of the upsides - I can have children while working on my PhD with less physical recovery time and  I will get to share the child-rearing experience with my husband from the same level of involvement and attachment, which is pretty awesome in my book.

Where I run into trouble is the ever-growing research on the benefits of breastfeeding children for their first 6 months (or longer). It's simply something I won't be able to provide - I won't be pregnant, therefore I won't have breast milk. I'm not concerned about the apparent emotional bonds and such and I know that there are perfectly healthy children who were never breastfed. But each time I come across an article or blog post about the benefits of breastfeeding, there's a brief twinge of guilt that it's just something I can't provide. It passes and I move on. Watching my sister breastfeed while we're hanging out does nothing to fuel a desire for the experience myself, but I do envy her that her child won't ever have formula (nor baby food, but that's different).

Nothing that my future children will be denied by not being breastfed is insurmountable and I know better than anyone that breastfeeding doesn't ensure a healthy life for your children (I was breastfed). But still, in our current climate, it's hard not to feel guilty, even briefly, for not being able to provide your child with what is considered, more and more, the foundation for a healthy life. 

This moment of guilt brought to you by Andrew Sullivan. Don't worry, Andrew, I don't blame you. You can't breastfeed either.

I admit, the winds do sweep down the plain...

We left New York Sunday night at 8 p.m. Around 4 a.m. on Tuesday, we pulled in to my parents' house in Shawnee. Loooooooong drive. Indy did great, managed to survive the entire drive despite my refusal to feed him and his tiny little space in the back seat (most of the back seat was luggage). Dalton also kicked butt. That little boy is not even 6 months old and he's traveled via car to New York and back. While teething. Kid's a pro. Well, more likely, he's an Eiland (no matter what his surname) since we are all champ travelers from infancy.

Since being here, I've inventoried my dad's shop, acquired about a dozen mosquito bites, remembered the joys of country living (specifically, naked hot tubbing in the middle of the day), and driven around town to see what has changed. I haven't lived here for 12 years, twice as long as I did live here, but it was nice to poke around the town. While driving downtown (we have a historic downtown that is both beautiful and depressing), the bat signal flashed from a window (seriously!) and I discovered that my town has a comic book shop. I went it, naturally, and they also sell used books. I found a bunch of Nora Roberts, which I will be acquiring, as well as a few gaming books I want to pick up. I will be back!

Mostly I've been decompressing. I'll start tackling my Honors Thesis next week as well as beginning to finalize arrangements for the next stage of moving, which happens in August. I have people to see. But right now, it's nice to relax (though it is weird living in my sister's old bedroom).

Learning From Our Elders

Today, my Grandma Jeanne called from California. She and I are pen pals and normally write letters. But today she called to say she got my most recent letter and that, though she knew it must have been hard, she was proud of me for walking away from something I didn't think was going to work and for trusting myself.

My grandmother has been married twice. The first time was to my grandfather, with whom she had four sons. He left when my dad was 14, leaving my grandmother with 4 sons between 7 and 14 to raise on her own. And she did, rather fantastically.

The second time was to a man I remember, but his name eludes me (that should say something). It was brief. I don't know the details since I was a child, but I know he was not a good man in the end.

For the last 20 years or so, my grandmother has been dating Roy. Roy is a good man. Grandma seems to like that he has his own house that she can send him to when he bothers her. They go camping and have joint parental custody of a German Shepherd named Sadie, and generally seem to enjoy each other a great deal. But it's clear to everyone that she has no desire to get married again.

Of her four sons, one of them is divorced. My Uncle Thomas' divorce was the example of a civil divorce and he and his wife, my Aunt Cindy, stay in close contact as they raise their two children. Thomas remarried a few years ago to a lovely woman who is now part of their - slightly odd - family.

I am the only divorced grandchild, but most of them are under 18 still, so there's time. Her parents were married forever.

Basically, my grandmother has a lot reasons not to trust marriage. But more than that, I think she is proud of me for not making a mistake she did - of knowing something was a bad idea and going through with it anyway. I think she wants me to get married (she loves great-grandbabies, having two already) and wants me to be happy and have a family, but she never wants me to suffer like she did.

My Grandma Claudia, who passed in December, was practically a saint. My sister and I said repeatedly during that time that she died without anyone being able to say a negative word about her. Grandma Jeanne is less of a saint...and I think I'm going to learn a lot more from her as an adult.

And the President Makes Me Proud

So today, President Obama officially supported same-sex marriage. I'm on his mailing list and received this message:

Jenn -- Today, I was asked a direct question and gave a direct answer: I believe that same-sex couples should be allowed to marry. I hope you'll take a moment to watch the conversation, consider it, and weigh in yourself on behalf of marriage equality: http://my.barackobama.com/Marriage I've always believed that gay and lesbian Americans should be treated fairly and equally. I was reluctant to use the term marriage because of the very powerful traditions it evokes. And I thought civil union laws that conferred legal rights upon gay and lesbian couples were a solution. But over the course of several years I've talked to friends and family about this. I've thought about members of my staff in long-term, committed, same-sex relationships who are raising kids together. Through our efforts to end the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy, I've gotten to know some of the gay and lesbian troops who are serving our country with honor and distinction. What I've come to realize is that for loving, same-sex couples, the denial of marriage equality means that, in their eyes and the eyes of their children, they are still considered less than full citizens. Even at my own dinner table, when I look at Sasha and Malia, who have friends whose parents are same-sex couples, I know it wouldn't dawn on them that their friends' parents should be treated differently. So I decided it was time to affirm my personal belief that same-sex couples should be allowed to marry. I respect the beliefs of others, and the right of religious institutions to act in accordance with their own doctrines. But I believe that in the eyes of the law, all Americans should be treated equally. And where states enact same-sex marriage, no federal act should invalidate them.

I've been watching responses from bloggers and news outlets. I've heard responses from friends. Here's what I know - I've always supported same-sex marriage because it seems like a no brainer to me that all people who are citizens should be treated the same. I am incredibly proud of President Obama's stance. Even if it was a calculated political move (in which case I'm also impressed by the shrewdness), it's an important move. The presidency may not have the legal authority to make same-sex marriage legal, but the president's words mean a lot to this country, and in this case, a lot to a portion of this country who is currently in the struggle for what is a basic freedom taken for granted, and exploited and abused, by many.

Well done, Mr. President.

Saying Good-Bye to Psych of Violence

Today was my last Psychology of Violence class. We did our group presentations on historically significant acts of violence. Our group did the Attack on Pearl Harbor (which I titled "A Date That Will Live in Infamy") and I think it went very well. We had one member who didn't send in slides and I was late for class because he was emailing me asking me if he could send stuff in....20 minutes before class. He never sent me anything and I pointed out to him that he had plenty of time to speak up if he needed help. He also didn't show up to class until the very end. But I spoke to the professor, who is utterly reasonable, and she allowed us to just present without him without the loss of points.

One of the groups did the murders of Tupac and Biggie...and it was fantastic. They did a great job at both describing the series of events that led to the East Coast vs West Coast feud as well as detailing the effects that make the event historically significant. They talked about the atmosphere in LA at the time and how two unsolved, but very public, murders fed the existing problems with the LAPD and the potential government involvement. It was a really fascinating presentation.

Unfortunately, less fascinating was the group who did a collection of events, some which were less historically relevant. They used the Rodney King beatings (which is historically relevant) but they tried to tie it to Trayvon Martin and say that these were both examples of white cops beating up black people. The professor corrected them since the Trayvon situation wasn't a cop and the situation isn't unique, so it's not historically significant.

The other one I saw (I missed the first one) was on the VA Tech shooting. Fascinating stuff, especially considering that the shooter was apparently insane. The video he sent to the police was pure crazy talk. It was a cool way to end the class.

For those who are interested in some of the stuff that we discussed in this class, the professor has a youtube channel (which I think I've mentioned before). I'm not sure how long it will be active, but there's great stuff there if you want to check it out.

I'm in Love...

...with the MS in Statistics program at ASU Tempe. The Director of the Committee of Statistics whispered sweet nothing into my ear about linear progressions and I swooned. Like any new love, it's young and fragile, easily destroyed by silly things like getting a job and loans. But it's exciting and makes me hopeful for the future.

That Thing You Do

There's a lot of psychological theories about why we do what we do. In fact, it's really the entire field. Why do we do X? What motivates us? etc.

We can all point to things we do and say "I do this for that reason." There's the inevitable moment as a grownup when you realize that you're doing things a certain way because your parents did it that way, which always leads to a moment of "I'm becoming my mother/father!" and often a conversation with said (amused) parent. That's always fun. But you get over it and either accept it or change it, depending on where you are in your life and how appropriate that way of doing things is.

Other things are more subtle. The way someone interacts with the opposite sex is usually a combination of active social shaping (often by parents) and personal experience. If a guy has gotten poor responses for holding doors for women, he might be less likely to do so, though if his parents (and/or society) taught him it was the way men do things, it's related more to his identity than to his relationship with women and he's gonna hold that door.

Just like when we realize we're becoming our parents, there are moments when you make a connection between a part of your personality or behavior and something that influenced it. One of the therapy process for PTSD uses CBT - Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. It is a pretty standard cognitive/behavioral process that has to do with actively recognizing your actions, determining the reason for you actions, determining if that is an appropriate response, and making active, conscious decisions to change inappropriate responses. The more extreme the reaction, the harder it can be, but it's shown to be very effective. It's a list of questions that, after awhile, become second nature. "Why am I doing this? Is this an appropriate response? What is a better response?" I run through these questions all day, everyday. It's mentally exhausting, but it allows me to better function in society. I still jump a mile when someone drops a book on the floor in class, but I no longer assess them as a target and take an alert position. Better!

Once the major behavioral issues are dealt with and the patient has the tools to manage themselves, smaller, more subtle things come to light. Tonight, I had a moment in the shower (where a great deal of introspection seems to happen) where I realized that while a lot of my "hardness" - the enjoyment of guns, the casual nature of violent and aggressive speak - is simply residual from the Army and it's environment (and is not behavior that needs active correcting since I recognize socially acceptable situations and abide accordingly), a portion of it, maybe even a lot of it, is laying down warnings. It's "Do not mess with me or I will destroy you" behavior. In a physical situation, I am simply outgunned when facing someone bigger and stronger (which is less people than perhaps it should be for my size, but is still a significant portion of the population). I make up for it with a very clear attitude of "if I have to kill you, I will. Please stay over there, where I don't have to kill you." 

In my Psychology of Violence class, we discussed what it takes to kill someone in the context of the military and how it trains. My professor asked us if we could. And I knew, without a hesitation, that I could. With that knowledge comes no value judgement on myself. There were people in class who felt like they could if they were protecting someone (and every mother said she could to protect her children) but they didn't like it about themselves. It doesn't bother me. Could be desensitization to the concept. It could be that I have thought about it a lot more than others. But either way, the knowledge is very clear to me. I don't want to kill anyone (no murders in the making, promise). I don't want to hurt anyone. But I know that the situation could arise where I would. 

I Hope You Have One Just Like You

Truth - I am terrified of having a daughter. Specifically, I'm terrified she'll end up like me.

Not like me in personality. I'll take a few difficult teenage years in the name of producing a daughter who's strong and has her own personality. That's fine.

And not like me in looks. May she be so lucky (okay, the fair skin is a lot of work, but come on...)

No, I'm worried she'll inherit all the medical crap I deal with. She has a 50% chance, theoretically*. But the pain that I deal with - how is passing that along love? What gets me through this idea is this:

1. Medical science is awesome and while I have no faith in them making enough strides to help me out, she might benefit.

2. My sister is 100% healthy despite us coming from the same gene pool.

3. I have a lot of awesome girly knowledge and goddaughters, nieces*, and gay sons just won't do it all.

So hope (or embryonic gender selection, which is better than hope) for a daughter someday is a go. A very scared go.

* The medical community theorizes that endometriosis is genetic, and my mother having it indicates that might be the case. We also think her mother had it, but grandma didn't discuss such things. No one has a clue about the fibro since they can't even agree on what it is or if it exists.


* If my sister ever gets around to giving me a niece...with our luck (and history) it'll be all boys.

So much writing...

I have the following writing that has to be completed by graduation:

Honors Thesis
Field Report
Senior Seminar Data Presentation

All together it's probably about 50 pages. I am not excited...and knowing me, I'll wait until it's due. But once it's done, I'll graduate and be able to take a break from all this writing. I can indulge myself in the glorious work of Calculus for awhile and pretend the written word is a hobby only.

You know...until I have to write a Masters Thesis...but three years is a good break!

Easter

So it's Easter. The most important and holy of the Christian holidays. Christmas is the one kids like the most, but Easter is the one that is most revered, for that is the day when Jesus rose from the death that cleaned away the sins of man and allowed for a personal relationship with God the Father. I might go into the pagan ties and the symbolism of secular Easter another time, but today, instead, I am looking at the Christian community.

We begin with one of my favorite Bible verses:

Above all, hold unfailing your love for one another, since love covers a multitude of sins. Practice hospitality ungrudgingly to one another. - 1 Peter 4:8-9.

Most of the chapter is in this vein. The First Epistle of Peter (as it is formally known) is one of the letters to the young church in areas suffering from religious persecution, and so the message focuses repeatedly on the value of bearing that persecution with a heart of love and quiet strength, as many of the Epistles do. They're actually some of my favorite parts of the New Testament, since they give us a glimpse at the early church and can often be lined up with other historical records to give us an idea of when and where they were written from.

Anyway, back to the verse. I have serious issue with the Christian community as it currently exists on a wide scale and have distanced myself from it. I find my community elsewhere and my spiritual health is a private thing that involves very few other people. But I wonder, if the community focused more on verses like these in Peter (and elsewhere) rather than the litany of potential sins that crop up throughout the Bible, how much better of a world could have made and could they still make?

In fact, if we expand this to all religious texts, I am certain there are verses like this, that demand love and kindness to everyone. If followers of those texts focused on applying those verses to the world around them, and saved the expectations for what they see as "Godly" behavior (however it is defined for them) to themselves, perhaps we would find the world of love, charity, and kindness that would exemplify the kind of God I could get behind. And if I could find a community of believers that used this as their center, rather than that which damns them or makes them different from others, I might be able to find a community to be part of.

Review: The Captains (2011)

I love Star Trek. Expansive universes are enthralling to me, so Roddenberry's work is perfect. I do not engage in the Star Trek vs Star Wars debate because they are different and I love then both. That said...

Tonight I watched the documentary The Captains, which is narrated by William Shatner and is his conversations with each of the Star Trek captains: Sir Patrick Stewart, Avery Brooks, Kate Mulgrew, Scott Bakula, and Chris Pine. He talks about their backgrounds, how they came into Star Trek, what their experience was like, and what it's been like since. A couple of highlights:

The conversation with Stewart happens at his country home and the gardens are so beautiful I couldn't believe it. Should Sir Patrick ever decide he needs someone to house sit, that is a sword I will fall on.

It was interesting seeing Shatner walk around some of these conventions and his interactions with the fans. There is one fan "Captain Dave" who appears to have ALS and is chair bound. He struggles to communicate and his mother speaks for him. He meets Shatner and Captain Dave begins to cry he's so happy to see him. Shatner's interactions with him are so touching and genuine (not a word I often associate with Shatner) that it brought tears to my eyes.

Avery Brooks is, apparently, a mad genius. He's a jazz musician and seems to communicate primarily through the piano. His segments are like a brief glimpse into the mind of a mad man. A really, really talented one.

Stewart is my favorite of the Star Trek captains. When Shatner talks to him about his own embarrassment and his dismissiveness of fans who claim that Star Trek changed their lives, Shatner appears rather vulnerable. He talks about how he feels the captains who came after were so much better and his realization, when he was boarding the flight to meet with Stewart and met the owner of the company that provides the plane who says he decided to become a pilot because of Captain Kirk, that he might have actually changed some lives. Stewart reminds him that each of the Captains who followed were building on what he created and that, if he died tonight, he knows he would be remembered by most as Captain Picard rather than Macbeth or others...and he's proud of that. Shatner mentioned that he's finally proud of it too.

The documentary is great if you are a Star Trek fan, but even if you're not, the examination of this sort of unique place in television and film history that Star Trek (and it's captains) hold is really worth the 90 minutes or so it runs.

The Warrior Gene

My Psych of Violence class, which is generally a very cool class, today discussed the so-called "Warrior Gene". Nat Geo did a piece on it, which is fantastic if you have 45 minutes to watch. But basically, the rundown is this:

The MAOA gene, which is carried on the X-chromosome, helps degrade serotonin and other neurotransmitters. Serotonin, most people know, is one of the bodily chemicals that makes you happy. However, the MAOA enzyme steps in and keeps it from getting too highly concentrated, since too much happy can turn to aggression very quickly.

It turns out that in about 1/3 of males in the Western hemisphere, the MAOA area is shortened or dysfunctional. Case studies exist where the MAOA doesn't work at all, but this is very very rare. It is believed (and there has been some research to support) that for those males with the mutated MAOA who are exposed to violence as a child, there is a significantly increased possibility of violent behavior as an adult. Because it is carried on the X-chromosome, women have a second copy and thus have one working copy of the MAOA gene. I could start a whole other conversation about the value of gene redundancy and the fascinating science involved in the Y-chromosome, but that's another post.

Obviously this is not the only determining factor in aggressive and violent behavior. Also, it is not a pre-determinant behavior. In the video, they tested a group of bikers (one of whom has a seriously violent history), MMA fighters, two (twin) former members of an LA gang, a former Navy SEAL, three Buddhist monks, and Henry Rollins (who was involved in the entire documentary). Of that, half the bikers (but not the really violent one), the twins, the SEAL, and all three monks tested positive for the mutated gene. Rather than associate the gene with violence, it is probably better to associate it with risk-taking (the former SEAL is a huge entrepreneur) and aggressiveness.

There's an ongoing debate in genetic research about how far is too far. The fear of the Nazi eugenics program hangs over everyone in the field, as well as policy makers and the public. A 2009 court case found a man not-guilty of murder and assault because of this gene. It's a touchy topic and part of the debate regarding the value of genetics in our society. No matter where things come down, I dislike the name. Warrior has a certain connotation (a positive one according to my class) that may color the view of violent behavior in someone who happens to have this gene. However the debate goes, however, I am fascinated by it. My behavioral genetics geekery is showing....

Review: Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Timeless Lessons on Love, Power, and Style by Pamela Keogh

 

Karina got me this book, which is published by her work, thinking I would enjoy it. She was quite right. While learning more about the personal histories of these two women, I realized that it is not an either-or situation...it is a both. I am certain most woman would find themselves with certain aspects of both of them, perhaps despite their best efforts (I aspire to be a great deal more like Jackie, but accept my Marilyn-ness).

Actually, my favorite part (other than the historical information about their lives and the look into their fashion and beauty worlds) was in the FAQ at the very end. It reads:

I would like to encourage my seven-year-old daughter to be like Jackie and Marilyn. What should I give her?

Confidence. A sense of history. And a library card.

To me, that sums these women up perfectly.

Though there are sections on living with a diva that I might have to pass off to future roommates and beaux....

Review: The Hunger Games

So I loved the Hunger Games trilogy. I read all three in about 72 hours and absolutely loved them. I was excited about the movie, but as always, a bit cautious going into an adaptation. That said, I had great faith in the cast and held out hope.

It should be said that the movie was fantastic. Jennifer Lawrence delivered another solid performance as Katniss. It had to be hard going from the indy world into one of the most anticipated big-budget movies with a rabid fan base. I thought she really embodied Katniss beautifully and look forward to seeing her in the next two movies, since Katniss goes through a really interesting character arch that I think she'll handle perfectly.

Surprise performance for me was Woody Harrelson as Haymitch. He doesn't look like I pictured Haymitch and he was the casting about which I was most skeptical. Karina, who went with me and hasn't read the books, commented that she always forgets that Harrelson is, in fact, an incredibly talented actor, and I do the same. I used Karina as my gauge on a lot of things since she was approaching it without the background and love for the books. She agreed with me that Harrelson's performance was incredibly nuanced and moving. Haymitch is not my favorite character in the book, but he might be from the movie because of this remarkable performance.

Cinna, one of my favorite characters in the book, was really well represented by Lenny Kravtiz. From the descriptions of Cinna in the book, I always pictured Alan Cumming and was skeptical of Kravtiz in the role. I'm happy to say I was wrong and he delivered a performance that was strong and soft at the same time. Also, his gold eyeliner might be my new favorite thing.

Last note on casting - the Tributes were all near dead ringers for their book descriptions as far as I can remember. I knew who each was by looking at them. Really well done.

One of the things I really enjoyed about the movie was that they were able to show things happening in the background that were only vaguely referenced in the book. We got to see President Snow more (played devilishly by Donald Sutherland) and his gentle manipulations of the Games. We got to see Haymitch lobbying for Katniss. We got to see Seneca Crane's sadistic glee in manipulating the games. It was so beautifully done, so artistically realized, that it elevated the movie from a faithful adaptation (which it was) to a truly moving piece.

Overall, I loved the movie. What I did not love was the theater full of chattering, screaming, squealing teenage girls making sounds I am certain never came out of my mouth. I was happy that the movie was good enough that it wasn't ruined for Karina by the atmosphere and it taught me an important lesson. For future releases, wait a week to see it. Less chance I'll commit homicide.

Glamour Dos and Don'ts, 5 Years Later

I've been slowly-yet-surely purging my Glamour collection. Today I was reading through the January 2007 issue. The first thing I noticed (other than the stunning Christina Aguilera cover above) is that I think of 2007 as a "couple" of years ago, not 5. My brain hasn't adjusted.

Anyway, the issue includes 50 Dos and Don'ts from 2006. I realized while reading that a gerat way to identify which fashion items are going to last the test of time is to look back. So, a few items of note from 2007:

50. Black Nail Polish is a Do!
35 and 36. Red nails and lips are a Do...and have been for ages.
27. Sweaterdress over leggings - still a Do!
27. Hip-length sweaters over leggings - still a Don't!
22. Belting the natural waist is a classic Do.
19. Platform heels - a Do especially for us shorties.
18. Bangles - always a pretty-on-the-wrist Do.
2. Crocs are an ugly Don't (unless you're gardening, in which case they are acceptable)

Disney Animated Films (and assorted others that are logically associated)

In the grand tradition of lists (I love lists...), I am beginning one for tracking my ownership of Disney animated films, which, next to musicals, are my favorite genre. They are listed in order of release (thank you to http://www.thecompletistgeek.com/ for the information). I have noted if they are owned on Bluray (the goal), DVD (intermediate) or unowned. Disney's limited release schedules may make some harder to find than others. Also, I have made some changes since this is the "to buy" list and I have removed those movies I'm not interested in, which are usually the smaller market releases (sorry, Saludos Amigos) or the never-ending sequels (Bambi II? Really?). The list does include Pixar as well given their on-again-off-again relationship with Disney.

1. Snow White (1937) - DVD
2. Pinocchio (1940)
3. Fantasia (1940)
4. Dumbo (1941) - DVD - this was my favorite as a child
5. Bambi (1942)
6. Song of the South (1946) - this has never been released for home viewing because of racist content, but if it ever is...
7. The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad (1949)
8. Cinderella (1950) - DVD
9. Alice In Wonderland (1951)
10. Peter Pan (1953)
11. Lady and the Tramp (1955) - this is about to released on Bluray
12. Sleeping Beauty (1959)
13. One Hundred and One Dalmatians (1961)
14. The Sword and the Stone (1963)
15. The Jungle Book (1967)
16. The Aristo Cats (1970)
17. Robin Hood (1973) - my dad's favorite
18. The Rescuers (1977)
19. The Fox and the Hound (1981)
20. The Black Cauldron (1985)
21. The Great Mouse Detective (1986)
22. Oliver and Company (1988) - introduced me to the great Billy Joel
23. The Little Mermaid (1989) - DVD - Ariel is my favorite heroine because she looks like me!
24. The Rescuers Down Under (1990)
25. Beauty and the Beast (1991)
26. Aladdin (1992)
27. The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993) - Touchstone, technically, but has been so integrated into Disney culture that it counts.
28. The Lion King (1994)
29. Pocahontas (1995)
30. Toy Story (1995)
31. The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
32. Hercules (1997)
33. Mulan (1998)
34. A Bug's Life (1998) - DVD
35. Tarzan (1999)
36. Toy Story 2 (1999)
37. Lilo and Stitch (2000)
38. Monsters Inc. (2001) - DVD
39. Finding Nemo (2003) - DVD
40. The Incredibles (2004) - DVD
41. Cars (2006)
42. Ratatouille (2007)
43. Wall-E (2008)
44. The Princess and the Frog (2009)
45. Up (2009)
46. Tangled (2010)
47. Toy Story 3

These movies aren't technically animated features, but they heavily feature Disney animation and thus are on the list.

Mary Poppins (1964)
Bedknobs and Broomsticks (1971)
Pete's Dragon (1977)
Enchanted (2007)

Confessions of a Gleek

I am now officially caught up on Glee thanks to Kyle's Hulu Plus account. I know the show has lost its magic for some people, but it still speaks to me. The Santana/Brittney relationship continues to be beautiful to watch, especially seeing Santana deal with the very real reaction from her grandmother. But the story line that speaks to me the most is Emma's struggle with OCD. The show has done a really good job of addressing the struggles, stigmas and real challenges of mental illness though Emma's story, just as they have addressed other issues on the show. One of the things I like so much is that they didn't fix Emma with a pill and say it was fine. In the most recent episode, she refers to having good days and bad days, that it will always be that way and that it's simply part of her.

Emma is the character I relate to the most on Glee, and not just because of her red hair and Kate-Spade-meets-J-Crew fashion sense. While I don't have OCD, I do have PTSD and the battle with mental health is similar. There's the stigma not only with people in general but with yourself. Accepting that the diagnosis is part of who you are is a challenge that threatens your identity and can shake your security of who you are. Even once you come to terms with it, there are times when it feels like it controls your life, which generally only exacerbates the symptoms, leading to a spiral that can be hard to break. The moments of watching Emma really struggle with it, like the brief clip of her trying to stop herself from cleaning the coffee pot in "Yes/No" are the ones that resonate for me.

I think the show does a great job of balancing the humor of Emma's excessive cleaning (which is, in fact, funny) with the seriousness of what is behind it. It's made it easier to laugh at some of my own rather funny habits that are a manifestation of something more serious. They always say that being able to laugh at yourself is healthy and I've found that when I can do that, it's easier to have a good day.

Also, she has a killer wardrobe that I want very badly and would consider homicide as a matter of acquisition.

As a side note, I was preparing to post this and looked through my labels for the appropriate ones. I noticed that I had labels for fibromyalgia and medical, but not PTSD. I then realized that, despite my openness about my physical ailments, I've never talked about this. So, to be clear...I'm Jenn and I have PTSD. And now, I have a blog label for it too.

Historical Acts in Fiction

After waking up an an awful time for no good reason, I decided to catch up on TV. I started with Downton Abbey, which remains my favorite show on television and which I can watch on pbs.com since I don't have a television. If you're not watching it, you should be. First season is available on Netflix and the second on PBS.

Then I watched my second favorite show on television, Pan Am. I love that era and the jet age, so no surprise there. Sunday's episode ended with Kennedy being shot, but it only showed the initial reports, which all said the President had been shot but was alive. It closed with Maggie (Christian Ricci) stating that he would be alright, he had to be. Of course, the viewer knows its not. The viewer knows that Kennedy is dead and that Maggie, an ardent supporter of the President, is going to be crushed. The viewer knows that all those shocked faces are going to to mourn the loss of the President who was a symbol of youth and change in culture.

It got me thinking about how the viewer having knowledge that the characters don't in historical fictions gives the show a chance to make a point without having to explain it. In the first season of Downton Abbey, the very first thing that happens in that the Titanic sinks. They don't have to talk about the how and the why and they can avoid discussing the larger effects of the event because there is an assumed knowledge. I suspect something similar is going to occur in Pan Am (and has, actually, in the revolution in Cuba). They won't show us Kennedy dying - it will simply be the case because they don't need to tell the viewer that Kennedy dies. It frees them up to focus on the effects that the viewer doesn't already know about - the personal stories that were changed because of things we learn in history. It gives the viewer, most of whom aren't of an age to remember these events, a chance to feel what people were feeling through the characters. If they've done their job, the viewer is attached to the characters and cares about them, so their heartbreaks are ours. We may not, as modern viewers, understand what it means to lose an heir (explaining that is what the first season of Downton Abbey is about) but we get an idea of the suddenness of the Titanic sinking through their dilemma and response. I am not old enough to remember Kennedy being shot (in fact my parents were quite young) but I already anticipate what it will do to Maggie as a character I care about and thus can feel it on her behalf.

It's an interesting device that I hadn't really thought much about until today, but one that I apparently like since I am so fond of historical fiction (Downton, Pan Am, Mad Men, etc). The escapism to a world gone by is one part, certainly, but I think being able to relate, even artificially, with the joys and losses of the characters allows us to experience history in a way that we wouldn't otherwise be able to. It brings history off the books, as it were, and makes it something personal. And isn't that the point of fiction, in addition to entertainment, also to capture the reader or viewer and transport them elsewhere?