Back home in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, the term “bakery” has two meanings.
In its more universal usage, the word refers to a place where baked goods are made.
However, in the regional dialect, it can also be used as a general term for baked goods themselves.
As an example, it wouldn’t be uncommon to hear a Yooper (Someone from the Upper Peninsula, or “U.P.”) to say something along the lines of “I’m going to head to the bakery to pick up some bakery.”
Some people might find it confusing, I suppose, but when you’re accustomed to it, it makes perfect sense, and it’s more efficient than saying “baked goods” when you aren’t talking about any specific kinds of “baked goods” (donuts, cinnamon rolls, etc.).
Anyway, I spent much of today making some bakery. The term “bakery” seems most appropriate since the kind of baked good I made is fairly common back home.
It’s a Finnish baked good referred to as Nisu.
In overall flavor, Nisu is rather like cinnamon rolls, minus the cinnamon.
You make your dough, let it rise, divide it into three loaves, then divide those loaves into three, which are then braided together and baked (It yields three separate loaves or braids of Nisu).
After they cool, you brush them with a sugary glaze.
Et voila.
It was my first attempt at making Nisu (or anything even remotely similar, for that matter), and as such involved a lot of trial and error (mostly error). The end result, though, was three tasty pieces of baker-I mean, “baked goods.”
I realized two things while making the Nisu today.
One, I hate flour, as it gets everywhere. It's worse than sand.
Two, whenever I have to mix anything that’s even slightly liquid, no matter what it is, it will invariably perform its best impression of Peter North (If you don’t get that reference, I’m not going to explain it to you, other than to say that, as far as metaphors go, it’s pretty gross.).
Beyond the baking, I’ve been working on a picture, which I had hoped to finish in time to post, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.
So my time off is now at an end, and I have to get back into the swing of things.
Including (ugh) getting up really, really damned early in order to get in a workout before I officially start my day.
In any case, I just thought I’d post a quick update. To those of you who are not working this weekend, I hate you all. Umm, I mean, have a great weekend!
Thursday, December 16, 2004
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Sisyphean Efforts or Pretentious English Majors Like to Use Fancy Words
10:45 – Decide to finally get up. I don’t recall having any especially noteworthy dreams. Yesterday morning I woke from a dream in which I was at my sister’s house for a brief visit before heading off for a trip the UK. In the dream I had stayed up virtually all night, and had then overslept, missing my flight. I was in the middle of trying to figure out the best way to book a new flight when I realized that I don’t actually have a passport, so taking a trip to another country was pretty much out of the question. This led me to wonder why, exactly, I hadn’t considered the passport issue before buying my ticket. In any case, this morning I didn’t have any memorable dreams this morning.
10:46 – 12:00 – Spend a significant amount of time debating whether or not I should venture out into the world to get a few things, such as possible side dishes/dessert materials for dinner. Check to see what I took out of the freezer yesterday; find that I have three skinless, boneless, split chicken breasts thawing. Consider looking up a new chicken recipe. Decide against it. Check my account balance online; spend fifteen minutes trying to make sure there aren’t any additional charges that are going to take me by surprise, determine that there are none, and that the balance I’ve calculated is correct. I’m now certain that I have enough money remaining to pick up a few things today, spend some money at work over the weekend, and pick up any additional miscellaneous items I may need next week before payday. I put in a half-hearted effort at working out without actually going to the weight room. I do some ab exercises and some lifting with my dumbbells.
12:01 – 12:40 – Place chicken breasts in a bowl with a store-bought chipotle marinade. Scratch my head in puzzlement when my phone rings, as that marks four days in a row of phone calls, which is a new record. On Sunday, my brother-in-law Dean called to say goodbye, as he deployed on Monday. He will be gone for two years, though hopefully, since he will apparently be in an area secured by 15,000 troops, he will be safe, or at least as safe as anyone can be in Iraq. On Monday my mother and Kathleen called. Yesterday “The Men’s Wearhouse” called to inform me that their winter sale is now underway. Later in the day I received a promotional mailer informing me of the same thing. A year ago I bought a suit there, and have apparently ended up on their mailing/phone list. It’s unlikely that I’ll buy anything else from there anytime soon; I've only worn the suit once. Today’s phone call is once again my mother. While on the phone I try to accomplish as many of the remaining tasks that need to be accomplished before venturing out, such as getting the recalcitrant lid on the bowl containing the chicken, and cleaning my contacts. My mother, however, has already accomplished everything she needs to for the day, and so she has time to kill before my dad gets home for lunch, which is why she called.
12:41 – 1:05 – I put my contacts in, shave, and take a quick shower. I always shave before showering, as it seems to be a little easier on my face that way. I first shaved in 1985, and began shaving on a regular basis (at least 2 times a week) in late 1986. In the intervening time, my skin has not become any more accustomed to it than it was in 1985. Every time I drag a razor across my face my skin becomes just as irritated as it did the first time. Often I find that shaving irritates the skin on my face in places that I didn’t even shave. For example, what’s up with my forehead getting irritated? I never bring the razor anywhere near there. I get out of the shower, towel off and put some gel in my hair. I head to my dresser to decide what to wear. As I usually do whenever I go out into the world, I consider wearing some of my nicer clothing, but today I decide that it’s pointless, so I simply grab a dark gray T-shirt and the pair of jeans lying on the floor.
1:06 – 1:10 – Finish dressing, spray on some Axe (Just in case, even though, like wearing something nice, it’s fairly pointless), do what I can to shape my heavily-gelled hair into an approximation of how I’d like for it to look, and head out the door.
1:11 – 1:26 – I decide to head to Giant to pick up what I need. While I’m there I see exactly one attractive woman. She is married and has three kids. She looks in my direction once, but looks away quickly in order to avoid making eye contact with me. For a change, I manage to avoid having to stand in line. The cashier is a middle-aged, heavyset Hispanic woman. I pay for my things, walk out to my car, and head home.
1:27 – 1:32 – I arrive home and see that, amazingly, my parking space in front of my building is still open. Notice also that the mail has arrived early.
1:33 – And just like that I'm home again. I grabbed the mail on the way in, so I'm unlikely to have any reason to leave my apartment again until I get the mail tomorrow. It’s fairly likely that I will not encounter another human being again until Friday morning at work.
Now, if you look at the above timeline you can start to see why I really hate having to bother venturing out into the world. I mean consider all of the wasted effort. I had to clean my contacts and put them in, shave, take a shower, and get dressed. I actually spent more time getting ready to go out into the world than I did doing the things that I went out to do.As mentioned, I toyed with the notion of making some additional effort to look nice, or at least what passes for “nice” for me, though this time I decided against it. Sometimes, though, I decide in favor of it, and usually it changes nothing, since the actual trip into the world invariably goes exactly the same as today’s did.
So it’s not like I’m going to bump into some attractive woman, and even if I did it wouldn’t make any difference how I’m dressed or whether or not I’ve shaved. After all, any attractive woman I do see will undoubtedly be married and/or will simply avoid contact with me anyway, just as the married mom I saw today did, regardless of how I look.
So, who am I trying to impress? The middle-aged, overweight Hispanic lady, or, more typically, the Middle Eastern man whose line I go through?
Every day that I go out into the world it's essentially the same thing, though I keep thinking "Maybe this time will be different." It never is.
How does that definition of insanity go? Something like "doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results each time." Sounds about right.
And yet, I can’t bring myself to go out into the world unshaven and unwashed either, so at least a certain amount of bother is required no matter what, even if I don't bother getting my hopes up (though I always do).
So, since ultimately the metaphorical rock is going to roll back down the hill again, I'm really not sure why I bother pushing it up in the first place.
But hey, at least it passes the time...
10:46 – 12:00 – Spend a significant amount of time debating whether or not I should venture out into the world to get a few things, such as possible side dishes/dessert materials for dinner. Check to see what I took out of the freezer yesterday; find that I have three skinless, boneless, split chicken breasts thawing. Consider looking up a new chicken recipe. Decide against it. Check my account balance online; spend fifteen minutes trying to make sure there aren’t any additional charges that are going to take me by surprise, determine that there are none, and that the balance I’ve calculated is correct. I’m now certain that I have enough money remaining to pick up a few things today, spend some money at work over the weekend, and pick up any additional miscellaneous items I may need next week before payday. I put in a half-hearted effort at working out without actually going to the weight room. I do some ab exercises and some lifting with my dumbbells.
12:01 – 12:40 – Place chicken breasts in a bowl with a store-bought chipotle marinade. Scratch my head in puzzlement when my phone rings, as that marks four days in a row of phone calls, which is a new record. On Sunday, my brother-in-law Dean called to say goodbye, as he deployed on Monday. He will be gone for two years, though hopefully, since he will apparently be in an area secured by 15,000 troops, he will be safe, or at least as safe as anyone can be in Iraq. On Monday my mother and Kathleen called. Yesterday “The Men’s Wearhouse” called to inform me that their winter sale is now underway. Later in the day I received a promotional mailer informing me of the same thing. A year ago I bought a suit there, and have apparently ended up on their mailing/phone list. It’s unlikely that I’ll buy anything else from there anytime soon; I've only worn the suit once. Today’s phone call is once again my mother. While on the phone I try to accomplish as many of the remaining tasks that need to be accomplished before venturing out, such as getting the recalcitrant lid on the bowl containing the chicken, and cleaning my contacts. My mother, however, has already accomplished everything she needs to for the day, and so she has time to kill before my dad gets home for lunch, which is why she called.
12:41 – 1:05 – I put my contacts in, shave, and take a quick shower. I always shave before showering, as it seems to be a little easier on my face that way. I first shaved in 1985, and began shaving on a regular basis (at least 2 times a week) in late 1986. In the intervening time, my skin has not become any more accustomed to it than it was in 1985. Every time I drag a razor across my face my skin becomes just as irritated as it did the first time. Often I find that shaving irritates the skin on my face in places that I didn’t even shave. For example, what’s up with my forehead getting irritated? I never bring the razor anywhere near there. I get out of the shower, towel off and put some gel in my hair. I head to my dresser to decide what to wear. As I usually do whenever I go out into the world, I consider wearing some of my nicer clothing, but today I decide that it’s pointless, so I simply grab a dark gray T-shirt and the pair of jeans lying on the floor.
1:06 – 1:10 – Finish dressing, spray on some Axe (Just in case, even though, like wearing something nice, it’s fairly pointless), do what I can to shape my heavily-gelled hair into an approximation of how I’d like for it to look, and head out the door.
1:11 – 1:26 – I decide to head to Giant to pick up what I need. While I’m there I see exactly one attractive woman. She is married and has three kids. She looks in my direction once, but looks away quickly in order to avoid making eye contact with me. For a change, I manage to avoid having to stand in line. The cashier is a middle-aged, heavyset Hispanic woman. I pay for my things, walk out to my car, and head home.
1:27 – 1:32 – I arrive home and see that, amazingly, my parking space in front of my building is still open. Notice also that the mail has arrived early.
1:33 – And just like that I'm home again. I grabbed the mail on the way in, so I'm unlikely to have any reason to leave my apartment again until I get the mail tomorrow. It’s fairly likely that I will not encounter another human being again until Friday morning at work.
Now, if you look at the above timeline you can start to see why I really hate having to bother venturing out into the world. I mean consider all of the wasted effort. I had to clean my contacts and put them in, shave, take a shower, and get dressed. I actually spent more time getting ready to go out into the world than I did doing the things that I went out to do.As mentioned, I toyed with the notion of making some additional effort to look nice, or at least what passes for “nice” for me, though this time I decided against it. Sometimes, though, I decide in favor of it, and usually it changes nothing, since the actual trip into the world invariably goes exactly the same as today’s did.
So it’s not like I’m going to bump into some attractive woman, and even if I did it wouldn’t make any difference how I’m dressed or whether or not I’ve shaved. After all, any attractive woman I do see will undoubtedly be married and/or will simply avoid contact with me anyway, just as the married mom I saw today did, regardless of how I look.
So, who am I trying to impress? The middle-aged, overweight Hispanic lady, or, more typically, the Middle Eastern man whose line I go through?
Every day that I go out into the world it's essentially the same thing, though I keep thinking "Maybe this time will be different." It never is.
How does that definition of insanity go? Something like "doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results each time." Sounds about right.
And yet, I can’t bring myself to go out into the world unshaven and unwashed either, so at least a certain amount of bother is required no matter what, even if I don't bother getting my hopes up (though I always do).
So, since ultimately the metaphorical rock is going to roll back down the hill again, I'm really not sure why I bother pushing it up in the first place.
But hey, at least it passes the time...
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
I'm beginning to regret writing this
Even for me, today was pretty uneventful. I slept in late once again, got up, did not much of anything for a few hours, and then I started working on a picture. After a short time I got sick of working on the picture, so I decided to do some writing.
Specifically, I started working on a story that’s been kicking around in my head for about 18 years.
I’ve made a few attempts at writing it over the years, typing out a handful of fragments here and there, writing some specific scenes, but not the overall story.
Actually, it’s not just one story, either. If all were to go according to plan, it would be a rather epic collection of stories encompassing 50,000 years and spanning across 10 very thick volumes.
That is, at least, the plan, though as I once mentioned I seldom make plans, since they almost never work out the way I want them to.
In any case, perhaps inspired by the fact that I did complete a novel (such as it is) last month (For those of you who may be new to Threshold, this extremely rough draft of a novel can be found at www.15000years.blogspot.com), and by the pictures I’ve been working on of late, which have been of characters from the story, I decided to take a new crack at it.
I did get a fair amount written, but ultimately I ended up breaking away from my keyboard, or at least from my efforts in furtherance of the story while I was at the keyboard.
I have a habit of doing that; calling it quits when things are still going fairly well, and last month’s efforts didn’t really do much to change that habit.
This was something other than my usual laziness, though. Many elements of the story I was working on are, while not exactly based on them, at least informed by certain experiences in my life, most of which, while not exactly traumatic, are rather unpleasant to think about.
So writing this story was bringing up a lot of unpleasant memories, and it wasn’t proving especially cathartic, so I called it quits for a little while, hoping that at some point I’ll be slightly better equipped to deal with the memories.
As I said, these aren’t traumatic memories, as I really don’t have any of those, they’re just…unpleasant. Mostly they’re kind of embarrassing, and downright humiliating, for a variety of reasons, which I have no intention of getting into here.
I will say, though, that much of the reason for the embarrassment stems from the fact that some of these experiences were born out of teenaged angst, and memories of that tend to be humiliating for virtually everyone, though at times it seems as though much of my life, particularly that period, has all been part of some endless parade of embarrassment and humiliation.
In any case, there are also a lot of regrets mixed in there with the embarrassing memories: regrets about foolish behavior, foolish choices, and just general foolishness.
Sometimes I think that if it weren’t for regrets I wouldn’t have any memories at all.
Of course, not all of my memories are bad, but the thing about regret is that it can often spill over and taint other memories, so essentially when I look back on the past I do so through regret-tinted glasses.
One thing that I'm sure everyone has encountered in life is the fact that there many people spout various philosophies about living a life free of regrets, many of them claiming that they regret nothing.
These people will often browbeat you if you express regret in their presence, since, apparently, it is acceptable to make people regret having regrets. It's sort of like how positive, happy people will try to make you feel bad about feeling bad and not being positive and happy...
In any case, I’m of the opinion that anyone who claims to have no regrets is a liar, a fool, or a sociopath.
We all regret something, even if it’s something as mundane and trivial as ordering the soup rather than the salad (or vice versa). Sometimes we regret standing up too quickly, or going outside with wet hair, or, quite likely, you’ll regret wasting your time reading today’s long-ass boring Threshold entry.
In the course of even the most straightforward and uneventful of days we have to make altogether too many decisions to be able to avoid regretting something to at least some degree.
I don’t, however, intend to suggest that all regrets are created equal. For example, I don’t lump the regret I feel for eating too much today and not exercising yesterday into the same category of regret as my failed marriage (Which is a regret that is itself composed of all kinds of other regrets that themselves fall into different categories), or not telling a certain girl that I was in love with her (or, conversely, actually telling a different girl that I was in love with her).
So there are clearly different kinds, and intensities, of regrets, but my point is that if you really look, I’m sure you’ll find something that you regret.
Maybe I’m wrong, though. Maybe there really are some people who live their lives free of regret. If so, more power to them, I guess.
In any case, I will concede that there are some of us who have more to regret than others, or who at least regret things more, whether legitimatley or not, and even if we try to go through life planning not to have them…well, we already know what often happens to plans, don’t we?
I think that, compared to whatever the average may be, I probably have more regrets than most, but I’m sure there are millions, if not billions, of people who have many more, and much bigger, regrets than I do.
And ultimately I don’t think that my life is really all that negatively impacted by my regrets. For one thing, since I am so accustomed to experiencing it, fear of regret seldom influences my decisions, since I tend to have a damned if I don’t, damned if I do approach to life and simply gravitate instead towards the path of least resistance.
Besides, as is evidenced by some of the writing I did today, my regrets provide fertile grounds of experience that I can cultivate as material for my stories.
And in recent years, primarily since I quit drinking, I’ve had a lot less to regret.
Even so, there are times, like today, when my regrets will sneak up from behind and wallop me, but it never lasts long, and eventually I’m able to move on, and I live to regret another day.
As for the “no regrets” crowd, I would have to say that if you truly have no regrets you’ve either lived a charmed life, or an incredibly boring one.
Specifically, I started working on a story that’s been kicking around in my head for about 18 years.
I’ve made a few attempts at writing it over the years, typing out a handful of fragments here and there, writing some specific scenes, but not the overall story.
Actually, it’s not just one story, either. If all were to go according to plan, it would be a rather epic collection of stories encompassing 50,000 years and spanning across 10 very thick volumes.
That is, at least, the plan, though as I once mentioned I seldom make plans, since they almost never work out the way I want them to.
In any case, perhaps inspired by the fact that I did complete a novel (such as it is) last month (For those of you who may be new to Threshold, this extremely rough draft of a novel can be found at www.15000years.blogspot.com), and by the pictures I’ve been working on of late, which have been of characters from the story, I decided to take a new crack at it.
I did get a fair amount written, but ultimately I ended up breaking away from my keyboard, or at least from my efforts in furtherance of the story while I was at the keyboard.
I have a habit of doing that; calling it quits when things are still going fairly well, and last month’s efforts didn’t really do much to change that habit.
This was something other than my usual laziness, though. Many elements of the story I was working on are, while not exactly based on them, at least informed by certain experiences in my life, most of which, while not exactly traumatic, are rather unpleasant to think about.
So writing this story was bringing up a lot of unpleasant memories, and it wasn’t proving especially cathartic, so I called it quits for a little while, hoping that at some point I’ll be slightly better equipped to deal with the memories.
As I said, these aren’t traumatic memories, as I really don’t have any of those, they’re just…unpleasant. Mostly they’re kind of embarrassing, and downright humiliating, for a variety of reasons, which I have no intention of getting into here.
I will say, though, that much of the reason for the embarrassment stems from the fact that some of these experiences were born out of teenaged angst, and memories of that tend to be humiliating for virtually everyone, though at times it seems as though much of my life, particularly that period, has all been part of some endless parade of embarrassment and humiliation.
In any case, there are also a lot of regrets mixed in there with the embarrassing memories: regrets about foolish behavior, foolish choices, and just general foolishness.
Sometimes I think that if it weren’t for regrets I wouldn’t have any memories at all.
Of course, not all of my memories are bad, but the thing about regret is that it can often spill over and taint other memories, so essentially when I look back on the past I do so through regret-tinted glasses.
One thing that I'm sure everyone has encountered in life is the fact that there many people spout various philosophies about living a life free of regrets, many of them claiming that they regret nothing.
These people will often browbeat you if you express regret in their presence, since, apparently, it is acceptable to make people regret having regrets. It's sort of like how positive, happy people will try to make you feel bad about feeling bad and not being positive and happy...
In any case, I’m of the opinion that anyone who claims to have no regrets is a liar, a fool, or a sociopath.
We all regret something, even if it’s something as mundane and trivial as ordering the soup rather than the salad (or vice versa). Sometimes we regret standing up too quickly, or going outside with wet hair, or, quite likely, you’ll regret wasting your time reading today’s long-ass boring Threshold entry.
In the course of even the most straightforward and uneventful of days we have to make altogether too many decisions to be able to avoid regretting something to at least some degree.
I don’t, however, intend to suggest that all regrets are created equal. For example, I don’t lump the regret I feel for eating too much today and not exercising yesterday into the same category of regret as my failed marriage (Which is a regret that is itself composed of all kinds of other regrets that themselves fall into different categories), or not telling a certain girl that I was in love with her (or, conversely, actually telling a different girl that I was in love with her).
So there are clearly different kinds, and intensities, of regrets, but my point is that if you really look, I’m sure you’ll find something that you regret.
Maybe I’m wrong, though. Maybe there really are some people who live their lives free of regret. If so, more power to them, I guess.
In any case, I will concede that there are some of us who have more to regret than others, or who at least regret things more, whether legitimatley or not, and even if we try to go through life planning not to have them…well, we already know what often happens to plans, don’t we?
I think that, compared to whatever the average may be, I probably have more regrets than most, but I’m sure there are millions, if not billions, of people who have many more, and much bigger, regrets than I do.
And ultimately I don’t think that my life is really all that negatively impacted by my regrets. For one thing, since I am so accustomed to experiencing it, fear of regret seldom influences my decisions, since I tend to have a damned if I don’t, damned if I do approach to life and simply gravitate instead towards the path of least resistance.
Besides, as is evidenced by some of the writing I did today, my regrets provide fertile grounds of experience that I can cultivate as material for my stories.
And in recent years, primarily since I quit drinking, I’ve had a lot less to regret.
Even so, there are times, like today, when my regrets will sneak up from behind and wallop me, but it never lasts long, and eventually I’m able to move on, and I live to regret another day.
As for the “no regrets” crowd, I would have to say that if you truly have no regrets you’ve either lived a charmed life, or an incredibly boring one.
Monday, December 13, 2004
Off to the Town Center again, a "Score" to settle, and not putting myself out there
With their never-ending sameness, and with no real break in the monotony of my time off, I’ve been finding it difficult to properly keep track of the days. There were several points today during which I had to really stop and think in order to figure out what day it was.
Today’s monotony did get broken for a little while, though.
Kathleen called to inform me that she was heading to the day spa to get her legs waxed, and that afterwards she was going to the Dulles Town Center and wanted to know if I would like to accompany her (to the Town Center, not to the leg waxing).
I said sure, and took a quick shower.
She was going to the Town Center to have the battery in her watch replaced, which, once she dropped it off, we found was going to take a half an hour, so we wandered around for a bit.
I checked out the calendar place again to see if maybe something had changed and they’d acquired a Janesko calendar. They hadn’t, but I did see an Alex Ross “Mythology” calendar, so I picked that up (www.alexrossart.com).
On the way out through Hecht’s I spotted a fleece that was on sale for $15 (regularly $34), so I decided to pick that up to wear at work (it’s always very cold there). It turned out to be even cheaper than marked, totaling less than $14.
So that was a bargain.
After I got home I got started on dinner, completed it, ate some, froze the rest, and now here I am.
In the mail today I got my copy of “Selina’s Big Score,” a book I ordered about a week and a half ago.
“Selina” in this case is Selina Kyle, aka Catwoman.
It’s a great story which I read a while back, but hadn’t owned. It served as the basis for the most recently launched Catwoman series, introducing the major cast of characters and setting the tone for the monthly book.
If I ruled the world, as I sometimes feel I ought to, though everyone feels that way sometimes, “Selina’s Big Score” would have been the basis for the recent Catwoman movie rather than some lame-ass knock-off of Catwoman that isn’t Catwoman and simply had the name Catwoman tacked onto it in order to try to draw in the existing fan base.
“Selina’s Big Score” would have been so easy to translate to film, and would have been so much more entertaining.
And of course, if I had been in charge and gotten the movie made, I wouldn’t have cast Halle Berry.
Don’t get me wrong: Mmmm…Halle Berry...
However, while Catwoman is many things, such as a thief, a adventurer, a sometimes a crime fighter, there is one thing that she is not: black.
The fact of the matter is that in comics, as in virtually all segments of the entertainment industry, there is a paucity of good, well-realized and defined minority characters, and like most reasonable people I think that something needs to be done to rectify that.
I do not, however, feel that, changing the ethnicities of existing characters, usually arbitrarily, as has been done many times recently, is the right way to go about doing that.
That’s a particular hornet’s nest that I don’t really want to stir up here, but I couldn’t mention the recent Catwoman movie without at least touching on the subject.
Of course, the whole thing is irrelevant in regards to Halle Berry’s portrayal of a character who called herself Catwoman, since she was not intended to be Selina Kyle.
And by the way, in the role of Catwoman, Michelle Pfeiffer, like the entire movie in which she filled the role, sucked ass.
I’ve never thought that she was an especially attractive woman, and whatever the costume in that movie had going for it was ruined by the stupid patchwork stitching (much like Halle’s costume was ruined by the terrible mask, the open-toed boots, and the stupid rips in the pants).
Actually, every live-action portrayal of Catwoman I’ve ever seen has sucked: Eartha Kitt, Julie Newmar, and, ummm…that one chick…dammit.
Lee Merriwether!
I actually remembered her name before I finished pulling up IMDb.
Anyway, every woman who has ever played Catwoman (though Adrienne Barbeau did okay as her voice on Batman: The Animated Series) has carried the whole cat thing way too far.
She calls herself Catwoman, dresses in a cat-themed costume, and has a natural affinity for cats, but she doesn’t take the motif to the extremes that have been presented in movies and TV shows. She doesn’t purr. She doesn’t bathe herself with her tongue. She doesn’t drink cream.
She doesn’t play with balls of yarn, or chase after mice.
Or shit in a litter box.
Batman has a bat motif going on, but that doesn't mean that he eats bugs or sleeps upside down. Just because something is your gimmick it doesn't mean it takes over your whole life.
And honestly, while I realize that the whole vamping it up as a cat thing is intended to be sexy, it really just looks and sounds silly.
In any case, the whole point of this is that the only place I’ve ever seen the character of Catwoman done justice is in “Selina’s Big Score” and in Ed Brubaker’s run on the monthly series. Both are examples of some of the finest mainstream comics work I’ve ever seen, and for anyone out there who reads comics, or is willing to do so, I highly recommend checking them out.
So my vacation is actually over, as I am back on my regular days off. I do regret the fact that I didn’t do more with my extra three days, but as I mentioned many times, there really isn’t much that I could have done with them.
Even if I were inclined to “hit the town,” that would actually be pretty difficult here, as there really is no town. Ashburn is largely a collection of housing subdivisions containing town homes, single family homes, condominiums, and apartment complexes, with a few scattered shopping plazas containing grocery stores, various (mostly useless) specialty shops, and some small cafes and restaurants.
There isn’t any sort of “downtown” that you can go to and walk along the city streets for hours checking out different kinds of shops, cafes, and restaurants, and everything is so scattered that you have to spend so much time in traffic just to get from one place to another, making it too much of a hassle to even bother.
Of course, I do have the option of heading into DC and checking out what our nation’s capital has to offer, but driving there is way too much of a pain, and my desire to do something with my free time isn’t strong enough to make me want to make use of the Metro.
I thought about going out to Delaware to visit my friend Eric, but the most direct route there would involve going through DC, and, as mentioned, that’s a pain (Last time I drove out to visit him I got lost in DC for several hours, which is why I actually have a grudge against DC and am largely unwilling to go there ever again).
Beyond that, though, there arises the question of what I would do once I got there. He’s a married father these days, and I no longer drink, so what would we do? We’re both too old for just “hanging out,” and the one activity that we both used to enjoy so much (drinking) is no longer an option, so why bother?
And it’s not like I don’t care, or don’t want to see him, but the effort of driving out there just doesn’t seem like it would have much of a payoff, and it would ultimately serve only to remind us both that the “good old days,” regardless of how good they may or may not have actually been, are well behind us.
So honestly, even though I do often wish that it were not so, I have to admit that there really isn’t much that I could do with my time that would be worthwhile enough to justify the bother involved in doing it.
Maybe I would be better served trying to do something more constructive with my time, like getting a part-time job, or going back to school to get my master’s, or even more actively engaging in my existing creative pursuits.
…
On occasion, I do actually work some overtime during the week, and even though it’s fairly rare I’d probably make more money working a few extra hours here and there at my existing job than I would at a part-time job.
Speaking of money, the lack of it is what keeps me from going back to school. (Well, that and laziness, obviously. I should think by now that it's clear that laziness informs pretty much all of my decisions.)
As for my writing and my art…meh. It’s pretty obvious that they’re never really going to pay off, even if only because I don’t have enough interest in pursuing them. They serve to pass the time, but beyond that I have no hopes or particular aspirations for them.
So ultimately it looks like whatever vague, undefined activity I’m looking to fill my time with is going to stay vague and undefined as I continue to simply pass the time at home.
And I guess I’ll just have to content myself to occasionally accompanying my married co-worker when she goes shopping, since that seems to be the extent of my social life.
Hey, I’m not complaining; my social life hasn’t been this active in a long time.
But going out into the world, both on my own over the past few days and with Kathleen, has been sort of revelatory.
To be perfectly honest, the whole reason I feel as though I should go out into the world more is in the hope that maybe somehow I’ll finally meet someone; maybe I'll finally have the sort of chance encounter that seems so unlikely to happen, but which is certainly never going to happen within the confines of my apartment.
But as I venture out into a world filled with suburbanite housewives, it becomes increasingly clear that the odds are just as good in my apartment as out of it. Everywhere I look I see attractive women…walking with their boyfriends and husbands.
Even if I see women on their own, the diamond rings on their fingers are just as apparent as the baby strollers they’re pushing.
And if I see a woman who has no obvious indicators that she’s not single, invariably she speaks little or no English. Okay, so I’m a guy and my primary interest may not always be conversation, but it would be nice to meet someone who will at least understand me when I say, “Okay, now I want you to tighten the restraints just a little more…”
KIDDING!
Honestly, I’m just kidding; I’ve got this whole system set up that lets me control the tightness of the restraints myself.
In any case, I’ve come to realize that what’s really behind this impulse to get out into the world is a desire to finally meet someone, and my dissatisfaction stems from the fact that it’s just not happening no matter how much I “put myself out there,” particularly since my options for doing so are severely limited by geography, language barriers, and my own personality quirks/defects.
So I guess that rather than putting myself out there I’m further ahead to just “keep myself in here.”
Today’s monotony did get broken for a little while, though.
Kathleen called to inform me that she was heading to the day spa to get her legs waxed, and that afterwards she was going to the Dulles Town Center and wanted to know if I would like to accompany her (to the Town Center, not to the leg waxing).
I said sure, and took a quick shower.
She was going to the Town Center to have the battery in her watch replaced, which, once she dropped it off, we found was going to take a half an hour, so we wandered around for a bit.
I checked out the calendar place again to see if maybe something had changed and they’d acquired a Janesko calendar. They hadn’t, but I did see an Alex Ross “Mythology” calendar, so I picked that up (www.alexrossart.com).
On the way out through Hecht’s I spotted a fleece that was on sale for $15 (regularly $34), so I decided to pick that up to wear at work (it’s always very cold there). It turned out to be even cheaper than marked, totaling less than $14.
So that was a bargain.
After I got home I got started on dinner, completed it, ate some, froze the rest, and now here I am.
In the mail today I got my copy of “Selina’s Big Score,” a book I ordered about a week and a half ago.
“Selina” in this case is Selina Kyle, aka Catwoman.
It’s a great story which I read a while back, but hadn’t owned. It served as the basis for the most recently launched Catwoman series, introducing the major cast of characters and setting the tone for the monthly book.
If I ruled the world, as I sometimes feel I ought to, though everyone feels that way sometimes, “Selina’s Big Score” would have been the basis for the recent Catwoman movie rather than some lame-ass knock-off of Catwoman that isn’t Catwoman and simply had the name Catwoman tacked onto it in order to try to draw in the existing fan base.
“Selina’s Big Score” would have been so easy to translate to film, and would have been so much more entertaining.
And of course, if I had been in charge and gotten the movie made, I wouldn’t have cast Halle Berry.
Don’t get me wrong: Mmmm…Halle Berry...
However, while Catwoman is many things, such as a thief, a adventurer, a sometimes a crime fighter, there is one thing that she is not: black.
The fact of the matter is that in comics, as in virtually all segments of the entertainment industry, there is a paucity of good, well-realized and defined minority characters, and like most reasonable people I think that something needs to be done to rectify that.
I do not, however, feel that, changing the ethnicities of existing characters, usually arbitrarily, as has been done many times recently, is the right way to go about doing that.
That’s a particular hornet’s nest that I don’t really want to stir up here, but I couldn’t mention the recent Catwoman movie without at least touching on the subject.
Of course, the whole thing is irrelevant in regards to Halle Berry’s portrayal of a character who called herself Catwoman, since she was not intended to be Selina Kyle.
And by the way, in the role of Catwoman, Michelle Pfeiffer, like the entire movie in which she filled the role, sucked ass.
I’ve never thought that she was an especially attractive woman, and whatever the costume in that movie had going for it was ruined by the stupid patchwork stitching (much like Halle’s costume was ruined by the terrible mask, the open-toed boots, and the stupid rips in the pants).
Actually, every live-action portrayal of Catwoman I’ve ever seen has sucked: Eartha Kitt, Julie Newmar, and, ummm…that one chick…dammit.
Lee Merriwether!
I actually remembered her name before I finished pulling up IMDb.
Anyway, every woman who has ever played Catwoman (though Adrienne Barbeau did okay as her voice on Batman: The Animated Series) has carried the whole cat thing way too far.
She calls herself Catwoman, dresses in a cat-themed costume, and has a natural affinity for cats, but she doesn’t take the motif to the extremes that have been presented in movies and TV shows. She doesn’t purr. She doesn’t bathe herself with her tongue. She doesn’t drink cream.
She doesn’t play with balls of yarn, or chase after mice.
Or shit in a litter box.
Batman has a bat motif going on, but that doesn't mean that he eats bugs or sleeps upside down. Just because something is your gimmick it doesn't mean it takes over your whole life.
And honestly, while I realize that the whole vamping it up as a cat thing is intended to be sexy, it really just looks and sounds silly.
In any case, the whole point of this is that the only place I’ve ever seen the character of Catwoman done justice is in “Selina’s Big Score” and in Ed Brubaker’s run on the monthly series. Both are examples of some of the finest mainstream comics work I’ve ever seen, and for anyone out there who reads comics, or is willing to do so, I highly recommend checking them out.
So my vacation is actually over, as I am back on my regular days off. I do regret the fact that I didn’t do more with my extra three days, but as I mentioned many times, there really isn’t much that I could have done with them.
Even if I were inclined to “hit the town,” that would actually be pretty difficult here, as there really is no town. Ashburn is largely a collection of housing subdivisions containing town homes, single family homes, condominiums, and apartment complexes, with a few scattered shopping plazas containing grocery stores, various (mostly useless) specialty shops, and some small cafes and restaurants.
There isn’t any sort of “downtown” that you can go to and walk along the city streets for hours checking out different kinds of shops, cafes, and restaurants, and everything is so scattered that you have to spend so much time in traffic just to get from one place to another, making it too much of a hassle to even bother.
Of course, I do have the option of heading into DC and checking out what our nation’s capital has to offer, but driving there is way too much of a pain, and my desire to do something with my free time isn’t strong enough to make me want to make use of the Metro.
I thought about going out to Delaware to visit my friend Eric, but the most direct route there would involve going through DC, and, as mentioned, that’s a pain (Last time I drove out to visit him I got lost in DC for several hours, which is why I actually have a grudge against DC and am largely unwilling to go there ever again).
Beyond that, though, there arises the question of what I would do once I got there. He’s a married father these days, and I no longer drink, so what would we do? We’re both too old for just “hanging out,” and the one activity that we both used to enjoy so much (drinking) is no longer an option, so why bother?
And it’s not like I don’t care, or don’t want to see him, but the effort of driving out there just doesn’t seem like it would have much of a payoff, and it would ultimately serve only to remind us both that the “good old days,” regardless of how good they may or may not have actually been, are well behind us.
So honestly, even though I do often wish that it were not so, I have to admit that there really isn’t much that I could do with my time that would be worthwhile enough to justify the bother involved in doing it.
Maybe I would be better served trying to do something more constructive with my time, like getting a part-time job, or going back to school to get my master’s, or even more actively engaging in my existing creative pursuits.
…
On occasion, I do actually work some overtime during the week, and even though it’s fairly rare I’d probably make more money working a few extra hours here and there at my existing job than I would at a part-time job.
Speaking of money, the lack of it is what keeps me from going back to school. (Well, that and laziness, obviously. I should think by now that it's clear that laziness informs pretty much all of my decisions.)
As for my writing and my art…meh. It’s pretty obvious that they’re never really going to pay off, even if only because I don’t have enough interest in pursuing them. They serve to pass the time, but beyond that I have no hopes or particular aspirations for them.
So ultimately it looks like whatever vague, undefined activity I’m looking to fill my time with is going to stay vague and undefined as I continue to simply pass the time at home.
And I guess I’ll just have to content myself to occasionally accompanying my married co-worker when she goes shopping, since that seems to be the extent of my social life.
Hey, I’m not complaining; my social life hasn’t been this active in a long time.
But going out into the world, both on my own over the past few days and with Kathleen, has been sort of revelatory.
To be perfectly honest, the whole reason I feel as though I should go out into the world more is in the hope that maybe somehow I’ll finally meet someone; maybe I'll finally have the sort of chance encounter that seems so unlikely to happen, but which is certainly never going to happen within the confines of my apartment.
But as I venture out into a world filled with suburbanite housewives, it becomes increasingly clear that the odds are just as good in my apartment as out of it. Everywhere I look I see attractive women…walking with their boyfriends and husbands.
Even if I see women on their own, the diamond rings on their fingers are just as apparent as the baby strollers they’re pushing.
And if I see a woman who has no obvious indicators that she’s not single, invariably she speaks little or no English. Okay, so I’m a guy and my primary interest may not always be conversation, but it would be nice to meet someone who will at least understand me when I say, “Okay, now I want you to tighten the restraints just a little more…”
KIDDING!
Honestly, I’m just kidding; I’ve got this whole system set up that lets me control the tightness of the restraints myself.
In any case, I’ve come to realize that what’s really behind this impulse to get out into the world is a desire to finally meet someone, and my dissatisfaction stems from the fact that it’s just not happening no matter how much I “put myself out there,” particularly since my options for doing so are severely limited by geography, language barriers, and my own personality quirks/defects.
So I guess that rather than putting myself out there I’m further ahead to just “keep myself in here.”
Sunday, December 12, 2004
The Latest Advances in Laziness Technology
So I slept in until after 10 once again today, though I had been dreaming that I’d slept until almost noon.
After getting up and doing not much of anything, I finally decided that I would once again venture out into the world.
So I took a shower and then found myself sitting around in my bathrobe, at which point I decided to turn on the TV. “Trading Spaces” was on, which I haven’t really watched in a very long time, and as it had an interesting “twist,” I opted to hold off on venturing out until after it was over.
The twist to the show was that the rooms that were going to be redesigned had not yet been selected. The homeowners had to go into each others’ homes and pick which room would be done. If the homeowners picked the “bonus” room (sort of like “the secret word”) they would get an additional $1,000 for their budget.
Only one set of homeowners found the “bonus” room. There was other stuff, too, like the homeowners designing their own carpentry projects, but that was the main thing.
Anyway, after that was over I got dressed and headed out into the world.
This consisted primarily of me going to Circuit City and just sort of aimlessly wandering around, as I wasn’t looking for anything in particular.
I found a hell of a deal in the form of a 19” LCD monitor for only $429 (it had been returned, apparently). That was extremely tempting, even though it would have meant pretty much draining my savings.
I managed to stay strong and not buy it, though.
However, I did find the Sarah McLachlan “Afterglow Live” DVD/CD set for $20. I could have gotten it a bit cheaper online, but after factoring in shipping it would cost more. Plus if I bought it at a store, I would actually have it the same day, so I bought it.
I also picked up a learning remote, which is very cool.
Ironically, there is a considerable learning curve involved in figuring out how to actually make use of it, but I think I’ve got it pretty well worked out.
Because of the way I have everything set up, and because I have a no-name DVD player/home theater system and TV which do not have codes in any of the major universal remotes, I’ve been forced to make use of three different remotes.
(As an aside, even though my DVD player is cheap and no-name, so far, with the exception of the Spider-Man 2 DVD, I’ve found that it can handle virtually every format thrown at it: VCD, SVCD, MP3, DVD-R, DVD+R/RW, CD-R, et. al. Also, it can play MPEG files that have not been reformatted as SVCD/VCD. Put in a CD ROM that has MPEG files on it, and the player brings up an on-screen directory display that allows you to play any compatible video/audio/picture files. It even identifies files that it may not be able to play [such as DIVX or AVI] with a question mark. I’ve been very impressed by it.)
Also, I haven’t been able to find a universal remote that can actually do more with my digital cable box than simply turn it on and off and change the channels, and I make considerable use of the guide and info stuff.
So I was very pleased to finally get a learning remote that can be taught to perform more than just the basic functions. Also, it ended up being $20 cheaper than it was marked, so that was a bonus.
It wasn’t really tricky to set it up, it was just kind of tedious. There are still some seldom-used features of my DVD player’s remote that I need to teach it, but I’ve got all of the major stuff programmed in.
Also, it has a macro feature, so by hitting two buttons I can turn on my digital cable box, TV, VCR, and DVD player/home theater (It’s a huge mess of wires back there, plus there are wires running over to my computer, as I have an ATI All-In-Wonder graphics card that allows me to watch TV on my computer).
Also, besides turning the DVD player on, it sets the mode to Aux, which is the audio input for my digital cable box.
So that’s very cool, and efficient. I mean, it increases my overall laziness by like 300%, and that’s nothing to sneeze at. Anything that can make me even lazier is practically a miracle.
Plus, the blue light for the LCD screen on the remote is really pretty.
Now that I’ve gotten the remote all sorted out, I need to figure out what I’m going to do for dinner. I took out some frozen leftovers last night, and I don’t have anything else thawed, so I’m not sure there’s too much left to figure out, but I think I’ll go take a look anyway, so I guess that’s it for right now.
After getting up and doing not much of anything, I finally decided that I would once again venture out into the world.
So I took a shower and then found myself sitting around in my bathrobe, at which point I decided to turn on the TV. “Trading Spaces” was on, which I haven’t really watched in a very long time, and as it had an interesting “twist,” I opted to hold off on venturing out until after it was over.
The twist to the show was that the rooms that were going to be redesigned had not yet been selected. The homeowners had to go into each others’ homes and pick which room would be done. If the homeowners picked the “bonus” room (sort of like “the secret word”) they would get an additional $1,000 for their budget.
Only one set of homeowners found the “bonus” room. There was other stuff, too, like the homeowners designing their own carpentry projects, but that was the main thing.
Anyway, after that was over I got dressed and headed out into the world.
This consisted primarily of me going to Circuit City and just sort of aimlessly wandering around, as I wasn’t looking for anything in particular.
I found a hell of a deal in the form of a 19” LCD monitor for only $429 (it had been returned, apparently). That was extremely tempting, even though it would have meant pretty much draining my savings.
I managed to stay strong and not buy it, though.
However, I did find the Sarah McLachlan “Afterglow Live” DVD/CD set for $20. I could have gotten it a bit cheaper online, but after factoring in shipping it would cost more. Plus if I bought it at a store, I would actually have it the same day, so I bought it.
I also picked up a learning remote, which is very cool.
Ironically, there is a considerable learning curve involved in figuring out how to actually make use of it, but I think I’ve got it pretty well worked out.
Because of the way I have everything set up, and because I have a no-name DVD player/home theater system and TV which do not have codes in any of the major universal remotes, I’ve been forced to make use of three different remotes.
(As an aside, even though my DVD player is cheap and no-name, so far, with the exception of the Spider-Man 2 DVD, I’ve found that it can handle virtually every format thrown at it: VCD, SVCD, MP3, DVD-R, DVD+R/RW, CD-R, et. al. Also, it can play MPEG files that have not been reformatted as SVCD/VCD. Put in a CD ROM that has MPEG files on it, and the player brings up an on-screen directory display that allows you to play any compatible video/audio/picture files. It even identifies files that it may not be able to play [such as DIVX or AVI] with a question mark. I’ve been very impressed by it.)
Also, I haven’t been able to find a universal remote that can actually do more with my digital cable box than simply turn it on and off and change the channels, and I make considerable use of the guide and info stuff.
So I was very pleased to finally get a learning remote that can be taught to perform more than just the basic functions. Also, it ended up being $20 cheaper than it was marked, so that was a bonus.
It wasn’t really tricky to set it up, it was just kind of tedious. There are still some seldom-used features of my DVD player’s remote that I need to teach it, but I’ve got all of the major stuff programmed in.
Also, it has a macro feature, so by hitting two buttons I can turn on my digital cable box, TV, VCR, and DVD player/home theater (It’s a huge mess of wires back there, plus there are wires running over to my computer, as I have an ATI All-In-Wonder graphics card that allows me to watch TV on my computer).
Also, besides turning the DVD player on, it sets the mode to Aux, which is the audio input for my digital cable box.
So that’s very cool, and efficient. I mean, it increases my overall laziness by like 300%, and that’s nothing to sneeze at. Anything that can make me even lazier is practically a miracle.
Plus, the blue light for the LCD screen on the remote is really pretty.
Now that I’ve gotten the remote all sorted out, I need to figure out what I’m going to do for dinner. I took out some frozen leftovers last night, and I don’t have anything else thawed, so I’m not sure there’s too much left to figure out, but I think I’ll go take a look anyway, so I guess that’s it for right now.
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