Posts filed under ‘yay!’
Maybe it’s the placebo effect, but my brain is feeling much better. I feel like I’m almost back to my old self again. Except… I feel like my old self that was on anti-depressants. That is, not depressed. But then when I’m depressed, is that my normal self, or is it my normal self clouded by depression? Anti-anti-depressant people are always bringing this up.
It’s funny, but is it true? Does depression cause artisticness?
Truthfully? I don’t give a shit, because I feel a whole lot better!
I’M GONNA READ THE FUCK OUT OF “DESSER: THE BEST EVER CAT”!!!
Physically, this trip back down Lexapro Lane is taking a bit of a toll. It feels like my heart is racing. I woke up this morning at 4 a.m. actually contemplating going to the E.R. because elevated heart rates aren’t great. I decided to look on the internet first… which may either calm me down or convince me that I have bubonic plague. Luckily it calmed me down. I took my pulse and it was normal. I just feel kind of wired. I also feel really nauseous to the point where I’ve lost 4 lbs in 3 days. NO LIE. This can’t be healthy! I’ve gone down a hole and a half on my belt. Being a chick, I’m not complaining, but still, nausea is not fun. Terrence made a ginormous pan of bacon this morning and I could only eat one piece and still felt like barfing it up. I still have not had any pumpkin pie that Tanya made last night. Oh well. Could be worse! I feel mentally excellent, so there.
When I went off the drugs due to stupid insurance problems (see a couple of posts ago), I got a weird surge of energy and I’ve kind of been surfing that for a while. I’ve been sewing stuffed animals up a storm and I cleaned my room (I mean CLEANED. Dusted, sorted crap, the whole nine yards) and cleaned and sorted out the vestibule and front hall. I’m kind of worried that I will lose my productive mojo and turn into a lazy tired slob like I was before. Well, we’ll see if that happens. As of now I’m still inspired to do shit. Jo & Stacy gave me a zillion kilos of catnip, so I volunteered to make catnip toys for the SPCA, who apparently is psyched to get them. I’ve also been commissioned to make a vulva-shaped cat toy for Jen, which has proven to be a little challenging. I’m not happy with my vulvar prototypes so far. However, it does lead to some interesting conversations, like… “do you think the labia majora need to be more crinkly?” It cracks *me* up anyway.
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
I’m sure every single blog post about Crispin Glover at the Brattle a couple of weeks ago starts like that– I think, after he talked for a while, he said something along the lines of “just so you don’t go writing on the internet ‘that Crispin Glover sure talks a lot…'” before he took more audience questions (that wasn’t an exact quote, just a paraphrase). He *did* talk a lot. However, everything he said was really interesting and entertaining.
Back up. What was this all about?
I spent the 10th anniversary of 9/11 at the Brattle Theater watching Crispin Glover narrate his “Big Slide Show” and then show his 2007 film It Is Fine! EVERYTHING IS FINE!
OK, first I went to Tanya & Terrence’s post-wedding beach picnic on the Cape and then drove home and rode my bike to Cambridge to see Crispin Hellion Glover at the Brattle Theater. More about The Wedding Preparations That Spent Weeks Eating My Soul at another time (probably in a long rambling post that will come after [i.e., above] this one).
You may know Crispin Glover from starring in one of my all-time favorite movies, Willard. I liked Willard because it is about rats. Being born in the year of the rat, I relate well to Buddha’s Favorite Animal (so I’m told the rat was). I even had a pin that said “WWWD?” with the silhouette of a rat that I got from Newbury Comics– I was the only one who had any clue what it meant (and I had been working there the least amount of time)! Had Willard not been about rats would I have loved it so much? What if the eponymous protagonist had been able to communicate with wombats? Would I have liked it as much then? OK, bad example; that would have been AWESOME. What about… horses? I hate horses. Would it have rocked so much? Maybe not, but Crispin Glover has a way of making any movie awesome. Even Back To The Future, which I am still sore about having to have seen three times against my will (thanks a lot school, welfare camp and then school again for making us watch this movie). Not that BttF was a *bad* movie, just that as an impatient dorky 12 year old I would rather have, I don’t know, watched Monty Python & the Holy Grail for the 800th time or something.
Anyway, Crispin Glover’s slide show consisted of him narrating pages from his books. He’s written a bunch of books, or rather, created books– he takes books, most of them look like they’re from the Victorian era, and changes words around, omits bits and switches things so they become about something totally different. In short, it is SO COOL! It’s that kind of post-modern thing that sounds lame when you try to describe it, but is really nifty when you actually see it. I bought one book called Concrete Inspection that includes… pictures of medical procedures from the late 1800s? Truthfully, I can’t remember, though I read it more than once. I’ve been looking for the book for 3 days now. I can’t remember where I put it. Anyway, as a collector of surgery textbooks from the Victorian era I can appreciate it:
Ok, there’s my Flickr thing, I can’t link to individual photos anymore apparently. You’ll get to see an exciting photo of ELEPHANTIASIS OF THE SCROTUM, as is still the #1 search term that leads people to this blog. I was going to buy the book Rat Catcher, another one of C.H.G.’s books, near and dear to my heart because of the rodent theme, but I didn’t have enough cash on me and by the time I got back from the ATM, it had sold out. Alas.
Holy crap, I’ve been working on this entry for 3 weeks and I still haven’t finished it. Probably because I can’t think of enough ways to say that CRISPIN GLOVER IS AWESOME!!!
His movie was interesting, too– it was written by a guy with cerebral palsy as a sort of 1970s movie-of-the-night thing. As such, the plot was pretty straightforward, the dialogue was basic, and there was a lot of booty. A lot. Now I understand that CHG wants to break taboos, but breaking sexual taboos is the bread and butter of the amateur artist who wants to be “edgy.” Lord knows I’ve sat through enough student and barely-out-0f-art-school performance art pieces for weird visual sexual things to be totally blasé to me. Yes, I’m a jaded, cynical bitch. I hear the words “break taboos of [incest, rape, sex, etc.] and just yawn. Anyway, I must say that the sex scenes in this movie between a wheelchair-bound middle-aged guy with cerebral palsy and young hot chicks was just weird and disturbing enough for me to find kind of fascinating. The whole thing could have been totally tacky, but the stark yet striking art direction, the direction itself, and the soundtrack made it really cool. I’ve lamented the fact that the Allegretto from Beethoven’s Seventh symphony is way overused for dramatic effect in movies. In <i>Zardoz</i> it was just distracting. In <i>The King’s Speech</i> it seemed tawdry and like a cheap manipulative special effect. It Is Fine! EVERYTHING IS FINE! is the only movie in which I think Beethoven worked for and not against the filmmaker’s intentions. There was also a lot of of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite, which was sort of weird at first because you’re used to hearing it either relating to Christmas things, or backing up prancing hippos and such. However, I think it totally worked, too. There was one scene with a girl whose apartment was decorated in arabesque arches and middle-eastern looking décor. She was wearing flowing harem pants, and the music to that particular scene was the “Arabesque” from the Nutcracker. At the book signing at the end, after I spent 2 hours in line because of course I was dead last (how predictable, me!), I asked CHG about the connection, figuring he had some deep reason for it since he seems like a totally analytical kind of guy. He said he hadn’t noticed that. I was actually kind of psyched that such a weird coincidence occurred! I also asked about his middle name, Hellion, because, as a name nerd, it always struck me as being really awesome. Yes, it is his real middle name. Rock on!
I just want to say, though it is uncool, that I FUCKING LOVE THE HOLIDAYS!!! Seriously. We had a killer Chanukah bash this past weekend. I made a ton of decorations for it and I ate latkes until I almost puked. I found some inflation gelt (it’s a chocolate bar with a gold shiny $1,000,000 bill printed on it). Dreydls were spun. Sour cream and applesauce were liberally applied to pancakes. Booze was drunk. 2 Live Jews were playing on the stereo. In short, ROCK THE FUCK ON!
Why do I love The Holidays?
1. decorating. I can decorate the everloving fuck out of anything. Seriously. I was born to adorn. I worked nearly 40 hours in 3 days at 4 Seasons, putting up X-mas decorations in lobbies and did it make me burn out on decorating? NO, IT JUST MADE ME STRONGER!!! MUHAHAHAHAH!!! I came home after a long pre-game weekend of making giant bows, sticking seasonal branches spray painted gold into containers of fake pine sprigs and arranging X-mas bulbs in giant vases and what did I do next? YES, I MADE A FUCKING CHRONICAH WREATH! Why? Because decorating RULES! A side note: I am an expert at finding the problem bulbs in strings of lights. Another side note: Tanya claims she doesn’t hate my curb-found multicolored fiber optic acid trip X-mas tree as much as she thought she would.
2. food & booze in copious amounts. Need I say more? Festivity, people!
3. singing. I’ll admit, I totally dig Christmas carols. Not the cheesy ones like Rudolph and Jingle Bell Rock, I mean the old school ones like Adeste Fidelis and O Come Emmanuel. Basically, anything that was written before 1900. It’s my yearly tradition to sing X-mas carols for at least an hour while driving home from Boston to Ithaca every year– at least from Bainbridge to Ithaca. I make Moth and Slug sing too when I get home. Note to self: find a “Messiah” sing-in, those rule. I can sing the crap out of “Life Up Your Heads O Ye Gates” and of course the “Hallelujah Chorus.” However, “How Beautiful Are the Feet Of Them” is totally my jam. I don’t care that Handel’s “Messiah” was actually written for Easter. I’m not a purist. Stuff it, purists!
4. presents. The best one, of course! I’m a compulsive present-giver. I like figuring out what people like and then getting it for them. Thus, for me, this whole month is like crack. Of course, I enjoy getting presents as well. Who doesn’t? I’m shoving my Amazon Wish List in your face now because I’m a jerk like that.
5. My birthday. I know I always complain about how my birthday is on New Year’s Eve and how that sucks because I don’t get presents and everyone is busy and when I do get presents it’s usually re-gifted stuff people got for Christmas (the fondue pot was actually an awesome re-gift, though! You can keep all the shower gel, it just makes me itch). yes, I complain. However, it’s my birthday and a reason to be festive. AND I GET CAKE!!! Cake rules. Seriously. There is nothing more festive than a cake and I will eat the shit out of any cake that is thrust upon me.
And, in the spirit of Chanukah, I made latkes for dinner tonight. We have this giant vat of bacon fat, and we all know how much I love bacon. I thought to myself “latkes cooked in bacon. That would RULE!” but, though I am an atheist, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I don’t fear a deity striking me dead, it’s more like I don’t want my zombiefied ancestors to come back from the grave to kick my ass. And eat my brain. You know they would. I should be so lucky. On my dad’s side they obviously wouldn’t care, unless it was perceived as a Protestant Thing.
Also: see my rant about Holiday Trees because I keep coming back to it in random conversations with people.
So I’m on staycation because Laura, Jack and the Little Dude are all at their medieval camping event down in Pennsylvania. Because I’m not working this week, I’ve been getting all sorts of things accomplished for the move in a couple of weeks and that is all dandy. However, last night I just wanted to go dancing. So, I did! Being old is awesome because I can go out and dance by myself all night and really don’t give a shit what I look like or who sees me. Basically, I’m not trying to impress anyone, so who cares? The night at Great Scott in Allston was a new one, so people weren’t really in the groove about what it’s about yet. Also, they were the typical northeastern types who are just kind of uptight to begin with. They were mostly in their 20s and I could see them checking me out to see what my deal was. I mean, a chick showing up at a dance club alone must be, like, a hooker or desperate to get booty or something, right? When they realized I was just there to dance, people [i.e. chicks] stopped whispering to each other (it’s a pretty small place and there weren’t a whole lot of people on the tiny dance floor) and just ignored me. Which is exactly what I wanted! Thus I drank a lot and danced all night and had a ton of fun. ROCK ON! Afterwards I was riding my bike home and wasn’t sure I could make it all the way so I stopped in at Jack & Laura’s because the lights were on and hung out with Rob for a while until I sobered up enough to ride home. by then it was 4:30 a.m. I haven’t seen 4:30 a.m. in a long time! It was awesome. I should go dancing again soon, except my old bones are kind of sore from all the merriment. So, after I snort some Geritol and get a new hip, I should be good to go!
So I sold that Polaroid camera for $126 + $40 shipping to some dude in Holland. I sold it THE VERY DAY that they started selling Polaroid film again. Oh well, I guess I’m glad to have another thing out of the house. Yay! I put my Timex Sinclair up on eBay and it’s already at $50 with 5 days left of the auction. At the rate I’m going I’ll be able to… buy lots more yoghurt at Hole Foods!
THIS T.M.I. MOMENT BROUGHT TO YOU BY ANAEROBIC BACTERIA
Yes, I have an infection *down there*. It’s not a very bad one, just kind of annoying. When you’re a chick, stuff like this happens– you have all sorts of different types of bacteria living in Those Regions, and normally they live in a nice delicate balanced harmony where they all hold flagellae (do bacteria even have those?) and sing Kum-Ba-Ya over roasting little bacterial marshmallows. Sometimes, however, something pisses them off and the mean bacteria beat up on the friendly bacteria and begin to rule your Parts. Thus you have to give pep talks to the friendly bacteria so they can take over and win control again. If you go to a doctor, he or she will most likely give you antibiotics which will kill all the bacteria, friend and foe, and thus leave it up to fate who will prevail and rule your Cooter once more. I prefer the alternative method, which is eat a metric buttload (or rather twatload as the case may be) of plain live culture yogurt which replenishes your friendly bacteria supply, cut down on sugar (that’s what the mean bacteria eat) and drink unsweetened cranberry juice. Yick. However, this fits in nicely with the My-Stomach-Is-Killing-Me diet and this is why I’m buying way overpriced yogurt at Hole Foods. Why Hole Foods? Because that place is so freaking expensive it’s like a giant hole you pour cash into in order to get a tiny amount of food out. This yogurt is AWESOME though. I’ve been eating it with the particularly hippie kind of granola that you get in bulk (whole grains are good for all sorts of stomach and cootchie related things) and damn it’s tasty. You can never take the Ithacan out of me I guess.
On the new car front, I went to get it inspected and lo and behold… it needed FOUR FUCKING NEW ROTORS!!! WTF?!?!? If you are not stupid, you should NEVER have to change rotors. If you change the brake pads in a timely manner, your rotors will stay beautiful forever. Why then did a guy who was supposedly a Volkswagen mechanic sell me a car with FOUR rotors with deep rusty gouges in them? Grrr. I will never know. I had to have them fixed that day too, because you only get 7 days to get your car inspected after you transfer the registration and Wednesday was my last day to do it. Otherwise, changing rotors is pretty straightforward– you can get them cheap at a junkyard and do them yourself (I did this to the purple car years ago because of its stupid congenital brake problem which no mechanic ever believed existed). The hot Lebanese car repair guy said that the rest of the car looked great, though, so with any luck I will not have to get anything fixed for a long long time. Let’s hope.