Aug
22
2010
So, I’m sitting in Starbuck’s on a Sunday afternoon trying to write a couple of blogs for another website, but I find myself watching the couples sitting around me instead. I find body language fascinating and if you’re someone who loves to people watch, which I obviously am, Starbuck’s, my Starbuck’s anyway, is a great place to do so.
On the one side of the room is a couple in their late teens, early twenties. They both have books and notebooks and a laptop spread out on the table and are studying. More than likely, they’re high school or college students. I’m betting first or second year in college. They’ve obviously known each other for awhile because she has no problem biting her nails in front of him and he’s reached over and taken sips out of her drink since he finished his own about thirty minutes ago.
Who knows if they’ve had sex, and it’s none of anyone’s business, but one thing for sure is they are intimate friends. And, they like each other.
On the other side of the room is a couple obviously on a first date. Or, maybe even a pre-date. I see that a lot here. Last Sunday it was a couple in their fifties. Today, it’s a couple in their mid to late thirties. She’s Asian, although I bet she’s biracial of some sort. He’s a white guy who obviously doesn’t own a razor and is dressed in jeans, flip flops, and what is probably a clean red t-shirt. She has on white shorts, a chic green top and is carrying a cute little handbag, not too expensive, but not cheap either. She’s slung her cute little handbag on the back of her chair. They’ve been here for about an hour.
They are obviously not intimate.
They’re sharing one of those little tables here at Starbucks that barely fits a laptop and a cup of tea. I know this from experience. He started off sitting forward, his hands open and resting on the table, arms casually crossed in front of him. His arms are not crossing the invisible mid line of the table which would indicate her space. Under the table, both legs are facing towards her, above the table he smiles a lot, makes direct eye contact, and touches his face occasionally with a thoughtful resting of his thumb and forefinger against his cheek.
She’s sitting slightly back from the table, legs crossed away from him. Even her feet are pulling slightly away from him. Her arms are wrapped around her mid section. When she takes a drink of coffee it’s almost like they are connected to her body with rubber bands and are pulled right back to where they started. Her back is firmly against the back of the chair and is as straight as her long black hair.
She just moved her coffee cup a slight inch away from the hand he moved across the center line of the table.
He’s not really in her space, but he does keep making forays across the middle of the table, just small little boundary tests to see what will happen. She just put her handbag in her lap.
Don’t you feel sorry for him? He’s interested, or at least willing to be interested in being interested and, poor thing, I don’t think he’s going to hear from her again.
***
Okay, it’s been thirty minutes now and I might be changing my mind. He might just have a shot at a real date. She’s relaxed a bit. Her arms are resting in her lap, she’s even leaning forward a bit. She just reached down and scratched her ankle, leaning towards him…a smidge. She’s put her handbag back over the back of her chair. Her arms are still crossed in front of her, she’s actually hugging her ownshoulder with one hand, but it is a little cold in here.
He pushed back from the table, hands folded and resting on his belt buckle. (LOL, I love body language.)
Now, she’s leaning across the table, The fingers of one hand lightly resting on the table top. He scoots forward again, and…she rested her elbow on the table and propped her chin on her hand and laughed at loud.
Well, whatdaya know. He just might have a shot at a date. He knows it, too because he just have her a huge white smile, his arms steepled in front of him, hand cupping his chin.
Oh, back on the other side of the room with our young couple? She just shook her now empty cup at him and pointed towards the counter. He smiled, stood up and kissed her across the table and went and got more drinks.
Body language. Fascinating.
And, P.S. Dating sucks ☺
Okay, now back to the other blogs I’m supposed to be writing!
Jul
11
2010
Hello World I’m Back!
The blog has been broken for awhile now, as many of you know because you’ve emailed me about it. 
Thanks! We’ve finally gotten it fixed and I’ll be blogging again asap. Got lots of stuff building up in my brain that I need to ramble on about, so talk to you soon!
~Auntie Chelle
Feb
7
2010
I bought this tea on the recommendation of my wonderful friend Jenny. Jenny and I go way back, so far back that I tend to think of her, and her sister Maureen, as the sisters of my heart. Jenny knows how much I love tea, and passed it on. This is the first chai tea I’ve ever had in teabag form. Usually I’m a loose leaf drinker when it comes to chai, and I don’t drink all that much because I usually find chai teas a little stronger than I prefer. However, Bigelow Vanilla Chai is nicely mild, although I’m sure you could double bag and make it as strong as a loose leaf chai.
Each tea bag is in it’s own individual package, sealed for freshness, which is great if you like to throw tea bags in your carryon for trips like I do. As soon as you open the individual package, the lovely smell of spices drifts up and wafts through your senses. I easily noted cloves, cardamom, and cinnamon, with the notes of the black tea quietly supporting them. The vanilla nicely rounds out the aromatic scent of the tea. Because I wanted to see how good the tea tasted via the “quick” method, I chose to just do the pour water over the tea bag thing this first time. For a quick cup of chai, I thought this did the trick. The tea wasn’t as flavorful as I’m used to, but it was adequate.
Per the box, the preferred directions are to combine water with some milk, and then bring to boil with the tea bag in the pot. I did this for my second cup and I have to say that this method definitely yields a more flavorful, creamy cup of tea. I guess there’s a reason it’s the preferred method! But then, I think in general this is probably the difference between drinking tea from the leaf as opposed to tea bags, so I can’t say I was surprised the preferred method produced a superior cup of tea. Although, neither was as good as chai from loose leaf.
But then, I’ve yet to find a case where bagged tea is superior to loose.
Oh, and, if you’re a coffee drinker looking for a tea to try, chai might be a good place for you to start. The spices and strong black tea that make up chai give it a much more robust flavor that I think coffee drinkers might enjoy.
If I were to rate this tea, I’d give the quick method 3 out of 5 cups, and the preferred method 4 out of 5 cups. Either way, it’s nice tea for a cold winter day!
P.S. – for some reason wordpress won’t let me upload some images of the box and when I prepared the tea in the preferred method. I’ll upload them as soon as I figure out what the problem is!
Jan
29
2010
I think it started with the Blackberry, otherwise aptly referred to as the “Crackberry”. Once I had 24/7 access to my email, the downward slide on the slippery sloap started. It doesn’t help that I’m a little bit ADD and usually have Safari AND Firefox open, with about 10 tabs open on each. (Don’t ask. Trust me, you don’t want to know.)
Then I discovered Facebook and Twitter. Both of which had Crackberry apps – YAY! Now I could see my email, update my Facebook and Tweet to my little hearts content — all from my phone! Then, everyone I know started getting wireless at their house so I started carrying my laptop everywhere, too. I could get internet access at mom’s, Jenny’s, all of my friends, work, the parking lot, Starbucks, Panera, the dentists office, even the airport!
However, I can NOT get internet access on the Plane. Last night I was on a six hour flight from San Jose to Louisville and I was seriously jonesing for some Google.
It wasn’t pretty.
I’m up in the air, and the whole world, my whole world anyway, was going on like usual…without me. I’m stuck next to a guy taking up all of his seat and a third of mine, and I have to deal with it without internet access. No Yahoo, no Etsy, I can’t monitor the comments on my blogs, or checkout the conversations on any of the forums I frequent. Not to mention no Twitter or Facebook. And, I’m not even going to think about all the blog posts I can’t read!
Yes, I know, there’s a lot more going on in the world that should have my attention. There’s Haiti, the Middle East (Although, let’s be honest, those guys haven’t been nice neighbors for eons.), whether or not Brad and Angelina are really breaking up.
I know, I get it.
But, all I could think about last night was the tweets I was missing, the Facebook updates I wasn’t commenting on, who’s got the highest Bejeweled score!?!
Hey…I told you I was an addict!
Jan
25
2010
I’m having a difficult week, which isn’t all that surprising because it’s January and I’m an accountant and “difficult” is pretty much the best you can expect at this time of year. But, I’m having a difficult week because I’m having trouble with boundaries and a friend of mine. (I’m going to use “They” since it’s a gender neutral tag, so all you grammar mavens out there cut me some slack!)
I have this friend whom I love very much, but who frustrates the crap out of me. In my humble opinion, They won’t take the steps necessary to make sure they stay healthy. Okay, I need to backup: They have a pervasive and chronic health problem and on top of that, an anxiety disorder that complicates the whole picture. This is a health problem They didn’t bring on themselves, and the health problem is something that usually effects people of the opposite gender, so some of the treatments and therapies haven’t necessarily been optimized for their gender. It’s a problem.
And, while I’m sympathetic to this problem, there are times that I’m also extremely frustrated with how my friend deals with the problem. To the point that when They find themselves in a crises I just want to shake them for letting it happen. Because, again, in my opinion, They LET IT HAPPEN because they don’t take care of themselves.
For example, if I couldn’t sleep for more than 2-3 hours a night for months at a time, I would FIX IT. I hate taking pills, I have terrible asthma and allergies and I grew up taking pills and using inhalers. BUT, if I couldn’t sleep I’d do something about it, even if it meant I had to take a couple of pills a couple of times a day.
But, They don’t. They wait until they are completely exhausted and Their anxiety is at an all time high and they can’t get their ass off the couch and go to work before They do anything about it.
And when I can’t muster any sympathy for Them — because in all honesty they look like crap when They get to this point and I feel like I SHOULD feel sympathy for them — I feel at best like a terrible friend, and at worst an uncaring bitch.
Now, don’t think it’s escaped my attention that this sounds like it’s “all about me”. On the one hand, this is my blog, so it IS all about me. But, on the other hand, when my friend does this to Themselves it does cause an interruption in my life. And, did I mention it was January? I have a life going on, I have a business moving at rocket speed (They do, too) and I’m trying to launch a new blog. So, I’m a little frustrated that I feel like I’m supposed to stop and cater to Them.
And, They’re having a bad week, too. Their significant other moved out. That’s BAD. BUT, none of the rest of us get to lie on the couch sobbing and depressed, do we? No, we have to duct tape our emotions back together and get our ass to work. Or, maybe I’m just not capable of understanding how an anxiety disorder effects someone? But, I’ve talked to a couple of other friends who either have an anxiety disorder, or have taken anxiety meds in the past when something tragic happened in their lives and they needed help to deal with it, and, consequently, continue living their life. They all agree that this is ridiculous. You take the meds in order TO get off the couch.
Which leads me right back to feeling like this is self-indulgent, manipulative, and passive-aggressive on my friend’s part. In my world, or at least how I grew up, when you are an adult you take care of yourself and your life. You do whatever it takes to keep yourself together and, if you can’t, you get help.
I don’t know what the answer is. I only know I’m frustrated and impatient with the whole thing and I’m pissed that it’s distracting me from what I need to do right now.
So, where do I set the boundary? And, how do I maintain it?
Or, has this relationship finally run its course? I feel mean and a bit hateful walking away from my friend just as their significant other also left Them, but I also feel like They are being an emotional vampire and I just don’t have anything left to give. And, what’s more, I really don’t want to.
I’m just not sure where that leaves me.
Jan
10
2010
So Microsoft is a puffy and proud of their new Windows 7 and their new stores. Now, you guys know I’m a Mac girl, so I’m completely unimpressed. Microsoft lost me a long time ago, and the only reason I even have windows on my Mac is because QuickBooks for a Mac totally sucks (and Intuit should be ashamed about it, too.), so I have to have the PC version in order to work on my clients books.
But, anyway.
Apple, of course, is one step ahead. Microsoft is going to have stores? Well, Apple is completely revamping their stores, and, oh, btw, it’s going to be a complete “experience” when you go to the store so you can interact with your community of other Mac people.
The link to the FastCompany article I just read is below. I can’t wait until I can visit the new store in Palo Alto!
http://www.fastcompany.com/blog/cliff-kuang/design-innovation/apple-fires-back-microsoft-plans-revamped-store
Jan
6
2010
(NOTE: I posted this over on http://michellesemones.wordpress.com/, but I think it works here, too. Just in case you thought you were seeing double!)
I’ve noticed something over the last few years: There is a definite connection between my sense of self and my body, and if I’m not paying attention to my Self, my Body will make me pay attention.
About three years ago, just after I moved back to Kentucky, I started having sever pain in my right arm. Of course, being the focused workaholic that I am, I didn’t actually notice it until my arm hurt so bad I could barely lift it above my shoulder. Much nagging from my mother, culminating with a conversation that ended with “until you go to the doctor I don’t want to hear another word about this. Go. To. The. Doctor.”, ensued.
Mothers. Gotta love ‘em.
So, after that, of course I hung up the phone and immediately called the doctor.
Okay, no, I didn’t.
I immediately got online and asked my writing friends what I should do. I was sure there was a stretch or new chair, or something that would help my arm. The collective advice I received there was to go to a chiropractor, which I did for over a year, and she helped, she truly did. But, the problem didn’t go away. So, THEN, I went to the doctor.
Why, yes, I do think I can fix all my problems myself. Your point is?
Anyway, that doctor sent me to another doctor, who sent me to a hand specialist, who diagnosed the problem…in my neck. Yep, turns out, wasn’t my hands at all, it was my neck. Mostly from slouching ten to fifteen hours a day at a computer! Turns out your mother (maybe just MY mother?) was right, good posture is important.
Dontcha hate it when that happens?
Now, the hand specialist helped my problem the most with stretching exercises and correcting my posture, and helping me to create an ergonomically correct work station. I wish I could say he healed me, but until I no longer work at a computer, odds are I’ll forever be battling the pain in my neck. But, at least now I have a strategy.
I told you that whole story to get to this point: The pain was in my neck, literally. But, the real PAIN was in my client list. Another kind of pain in the neck, ironically enough.
Unbeknownst to me (mostly because I have this thing where I think I can FIX IT ALL), I’d had a good relationship go bad, and because I wouldn’t face the truth, my body forcibly brought it to my attention.
This was a client I’d had for ten years. We’d been through everything you can imagine. The ups and downs of business with the rise and fall of the Tech Boom, and then the implosion of the tech bust. We’d been through moving the business out of his garage and into a real office, having to let go of members of the original core team, my divorce, his youngest child being born with a heart defect, even the death of my father. We’d become much more than client and accountant, we’d become friends.
Which is why I didn’t realize exactly how toxic and co-dependant our relationship had become. The how’s and why’s are a post for another day. My point now is that subconsciously I knew the relationship was going south, I just didn’t want to face it. So, my Body forced me to.
Suddenly, I couldn’t work from sun up to sun down because my fingers would go numb and my elbow would freeze. Suddenly, I was waking up in the middle of the night with a cramp in my shoulder joint and a crick in my neck. My body was screaming at me and I was forced to listen.
It was only through the fight to get better that I realized what the problem was, because I was forced to pay attention to what my body was telling me. That’s when I started to realize that every time my phone rang my stomach dropped, that every time I dialed into the client’s server my head would start pounding. My body knew what I didn’t know: that sometimes even long term friendships run their course.
Was I sad? You betcha. Did I immediately fix the problem and resign from the client. No, not immediately, but eventually, yes. And, the good thing is we both managed to remain friends. Not as good of friends as we once were, but friends of a sort. Which makes me happy, because I hate to burn a bridge if I can save it.
So, how about you? Has your body every sent you a message you refused to hear? How’d that work out for
you?
Dec
31
2009
May 2010 Rock Our Socks Off!
Here’s some happy just to get the New Year party started. Peace, Blessings and Success to you all!!
Dec
25
2009
Merry Christmas Everyone! May the Peace and Love of the holiday season be with you throughout the year.
And, if you want a chuckle, check out the favorite Christmas memories blog on My Not So Empty Nest:
http://mynotsoemptynest.com/2009/12/25/favorite-christmas-moments-circa-christmas-2000/
Dec
15
2009
When you’re dating on the internet, you have to find a way to get information out of your Prospective Beloved. The thing is, you have to be able to extract said information in a charming way. Blunt, pointed, pragmatic questions rarely work, and, let’s face it, aren’t appropriate for this particular kind of interview. ☺
So, I’ve come up with a list. Among my friends, it’s become known as “The List”. The List is a series of questions I’ve been using during my off again/on again dating adventures since my divorce ten years ago. You see, I know a lot of men because I work with mostly men. Once thing I know about all men, regardless of age, race, education, or even country of origin, is that they all have the patience and attention span of a gnat with ADD. No offense, guys!
However, I am a girl that needs information. Data points, if you will. And that means I had to come up with a way to quickly get said data points from the guys I date. Well, really, The List is quite handy at a party, too. It can definitely be a conversation starter. But, that’s another blog.
The thing about the list is that it’s fun. And, the point is to start a conversation as much as it is to gather information. What’s more, it’s cute and charming and I’ve yet to have anyone I’m interested in not answer the questions. Those who’ve ignored the questions? Well, let’s just say they are no longer on the list of viable candidates. ☺ What I’ve found is that with each question, you get a smile and a small piece of data. For example, let’s take the first question: Plain or Peanut? Funny, yes? But, also informative. If the person answers with “Plain. I have peanut allergies.” You found out a piece of handy information. Or, if they answer “Plain. But, only if they’re the dark chocolate kind.” You’ve got a different answer, but still, you have a small candy coated piece of information. Without having to resort to interrogation tactics, which some women I know have been on the verge of endorsing with some of their dates!
So, here are my top ten from The “Famous” List. Feel free to use it. Or, better yet, if you think of things to add, drop me a line!
1. Plain or peanut?
2. Coke or Pepsi?
3. Biscuits or Gravy? (Hey, I live in the South!)
4. Lions or tigers or bears, oh my?
5. Milk Chocolate or Dark Chocolate?
6. Mac or PC? (Definitely a conversation starter!)
7. Beach or Mountain?
8. Sushi or bait? (Again, I live in the South, people.)
9. Ginger or Mary Ann? (This one is my favorite!)
10. Coffee or tea?
Dec
8
2009
I love the holidays, especially when I can waste time on youtube and laugh out loud!
Nov
12
2009
Hi All,
Now that I’m solidly in my forty’s – and how the hell did that happen?? – I’ve been
pondering this question: Am I who I’ve always been – just older?
I know, it’s a philosophical question and most of you were probably expecting a
joke. But I’m serious. Do we change over time? By that, I mean, do our
personalities evolve as we get older. Do our experiences change us? Or, once
puberty is over are we done? Is that it? At twenty, is our basic personality,
outlook on life, beliefs, biases, and truths set and determinable? Even
more than determinable – determined? Are we still evolving as human beings and
men and women? Or as Popeye says: “I yam who I yam, and that’s all I yam!”?
I have a friend who is in his late 30’s and who seems to still think he is who he was at 17 – and it still has a defining grasp on his life. This belief he has, that he is who he always was and will always be, not only colors his decisions, but he believes that this is how others see him also!
I have another friend who says she is defined by the fact that she is a mother, and that has always been her goal. All else is secondary. She tried for a long time to have children, and once she did, her purpose was complete. Or, maybe, fait accompli?
Yet another friend refuses to be defined by her past. Her mantra seems to be
“To look forward is the only choice”. She tosses baggage, and, to a point, experiences, behind her faster than it could be lost on a transcontinental flight. Most of the time without “unpacking” at all.
So, here’s what I think: I don’t think I’m made up of a conglomeration of my experiences. But, I do think I am the person I’ve become because of those experiences I choose to give value and meaning to. Now, that value and meaning could be good or bad. And, those experiences could become some of that baggage we all carry around. Bags with tags labeled “Fat girl”, “Highschool Dweeb”, “Techno-Diva”, and the ubiquitious “Parents – ‘Nuff Said”. But, it’s whether or not I choose to place value that makes the experience a part of me. If an experience has no value, then it has no more meaning to me than yesterday’s newspaper. Less really, because yesterday’s newspaper is full of history. Experiences that have no value have no history, and thus no meaning. They just…happened. Just another lunch via the drive through, not a meal worth savoring, much less remembering.
So which is it? Once we live through adolescence, we’re all Popeye’s walking around toting spinach? Or, do our experiences make up our truths about ourselves and the world? Whether we want them to or not?
Nov
1
2009
My cousin’s, Gavin and Lauren, live on Hillcrest Avenue here in Louisville. Hillcrest is known as The Halloween Street at this time of year because almost everyone on the street, and I really do mean almost EVERYONE decorates their yard and hands out candy. We handed out 2,270 pieces of candy. YES, 2,270! And that was one piece per person!
Here are some of the pics:
Gavin’s headstone.
Gavin and Lauren
Lauren's Headstone
And then there was the crowds. They just kept coming and coming and coming…
The decorations were amazing:
And of course Charlie Brown showed up:
Even Elvis showed up! (He’s in the car, sorry, you can’t see him very well.)
Basically, a good time was had by all. Even the puppies
Oct
20
2009
Ahh, that is the question. Whether it’s a Blackberry, iPhone, Treo, Pre, Storm — which do you choose? Or, do you opt out? And, by the way, where do they get these names? Other than the iPhone, which says what it is. I mean Blackberry, Pre, Curve, Storm?
Anyway.
I’ve been avoiding the purchase of a PDA (Personal Digital Assistant not Public Display of Affection, just to be clear) for almost two years. Because I have a laptop, and I’m almost always in front of it, I didn’t feel I needed a PDA. In addition to that, there was the obvious expense. At about forty dollars a month, on average before taxes, for a data plan alone, plus a hundred bucks or so for the device, these puppies aren’t what I’d call cheap.
However, every one one of the smart women in my life, including my mother and my daughter, had one and insisted that not only would I love one once I had one, I actually needed one. To which I told them: I always have my laptop, so I can always get to my email and my calendar, the two most important things to me to live my daily life. So, I, in point of fact, I did not actually need one.
To which they sadly shook they’re heads, leaving me with the impression that I was perhaps being a bit hard-headed.
Which, ultimately, forced me to contemplate if I did indeed need one. First of all, I really do have amazing, intelligent women to call friends and family, and if they were insisting that I needed a PDA, then I probably needed to reevaluate my decision.
Plus, there were definitely things I did not like about my regular cellphone. Texting for one. I am a HUGE textor (texter?). My texting plan is actually larger than my teenage daughter’s. I probably send over three hundred texts per month. I text with my daughter, my mom, my friends, ex-husband, dates, even clients. It’s easy, quick, and fabulous for when you want to send a short message, answer a quick question, or touch base but not get pulled into a long conversation. However, on a regular phone, texting is a bit of a pain because of how many times you have to push buttons to get the letter you want.
Another thing I didn’t like about my phone was my inability to have my calendar on it. Like most people in today’s fast paced chaotic world, if I don’t look at my calendar then I won’t know where I’m supposed to be or what I’m supposed to be doing. Which was the biggest reason I always had my laptop with me. Back in May, before I went to Europe, I had purchased an iPod Touch to try to fix this problem. I have a MacBook Pro (my lovely Sophy MacIntosh), and I keep my calendar on iCal. The iPod Touch was supposed to be able to keep my calendar, plus Things (my task manager) my music, games, etc. However, in actual practice, I wasn’t thrilled with the results. Mostly because when it comes right down to it, I’m not a huge fan of iCal. I know, blasphemy for any Apple Fan, but there you have it.
Which means, I did indeed have to evaluate what my friends and family were telling me. So, I did what I do best and reached for the phone and Google and started gathering information. At first, I wasn’t excited. Moving to the iPhone would mean switching from Verizon to ATT, not something I wanted to do because ATT doesn’t have great coverage in my area according to friends and family with the iPhone. However, I could get a Blackberry and stay with my current carrier.
However, the Blackberry doesn’t really play nice with the Mac, so I’d need a piece of software in order to sync it with my laptop. Plus, in order to have my calendar on the Blackberry, I would potentially need to upgrade my Entourage software (Outlook for Mac), a $250 additional expense.
Sigh. Two steps forward, three steps back!
Time to go back to my people.
My friend Karen’s point was this: the blackberry just works. Every day, all day. It enables her to be anywhere in the world and keep in touch with her clients, her family, her world. Since I have a mother who has a very active life, a daughter that lives on the other side of the continent, and a travel schedule that can be erratic, this was a very valid point for managing my life.
My friend Lisa’s point was that I may always have my laptop with me, but it’s not always on. A Blackberry, or in her case an iPhone, would let me take a quick glance at my email just to make sure I didn’t need to go fire up my laptop and send something out.
My cousin, Sarah, made the point that I could keep my calendar on it, and add to it as things happened. She also pointed out that as I start blogging more, and as I want to keep in contact with all the people reading my blog (you!), I could update my blog and my facebook on the fly.
My daughter’s point was that when I’m on a plane I can check email one last time before I’m out of contact for six or seven hours, potentially catching any emergencies or work before I take off.
My mom pointed out that I whine and b$tch every time I’m with her and have to text a long message. Leave it to mom to point out when I’m whining. ☺
The final step was to go to the Verizon store while I was in San Jose last month and see what a Blackberry would actually cost me. Because the new Blackberry came out that week, the Curve was on sale for $50. A price I could swallow. I wasn’t happy with the price of the data plan, but after everything I’d learned I decided it was worth thirty days of trial.
So, for now, I’m Blackberrying. And, at this point, I have to say the amazing women in my life were correct: this piece of technology has truly helped my life. Believe it or not, the thing saved me from a huge catastrophe within the first week. Which means the amazingly smart women in my life were right. I hate it when that happens. ☺
So, To Blackberry or To Not Blackberry? To Blackberry. At least for now. (Come on Apple, play nice with Verizon!)
Oct
2
2009
Okay, something new on ChelleWrites! As I writer, I love love love movies. I adore picking out the structure, watching character development, and then there’s the popcorn. What’s not to love? So, here we go with our first ever Movie Review.
Brief Synopsis: A guy moves from Sweden to LA to become a famous writer and gets depressed when he can’t “make it”. Then one day, for no apparent reason, this woman named Lola shows up and talks him into going to Vegas with her, basically by saying “I double dog dare you”. Meanwhile, ambitious psychiatrist Dr. Bangley and his agent, Stevens, go to Vegas to promote his book. When two of his patients try to commit suicide, Stevens arranges for a wanna be tough guy to bring them to Vegas to see the shrink. On the way to Vegas, the tough guy’s car gets hijacked and hijinks ensue. While in Vegas the shrink gets caught up in the “celebrity” thing and his daughter has a hissy fit because he’s once again renigging on his promise to spend time with her. And, oh yeah, Lola is a former patient of Dr. Bangley and she wants to go try to commit suicide off the building he’s staying in. (I think. The main plot was as crazy and illogical as she was.)
Review: Okay, as movies go, it’s not going to win any awards. For one thing, no one manages to commit suicide, which, in my opinion was a good thing because I liked most of these characters. But, you know how it is, someone you love has to die for a movie to win any awards. Also, the “main” story line of a Swedish writer who goes to LA searching for fame and fortune and then meets up with a truly crazy person named Lola, a former patient of Dr. Bangley, is just boring. By the end of the film I was more than ready for her to jump off the building and be done with it. Or, throw the writer off the building, because that was the only way their story line was going to get interesting.
However, Alexander Skarsgard (Geert) and Julie Benz (Katherine) do a wonderful job portraying very unhappy people at the end of their rope, who really don’t want to die, but have run out of coping mechanisms for life. (And, if I giggled a little because she used to play a vampire (Darla in Angel), and now he does (Eric in Trueblood)…well, there wasn’t anyone in the room but me, so it’s all good.)
At the beginning of the movie, Skarsgard plays Geert, a depressed transvestite determined to set himself on fire, Benz plays Katherine, a woman trying to electrocute herself, both fail miserably. Geert shaves his chest, puts on his makeup, gets dressed to the nine’s, goes into the garage and dumps what has to be five gallons of gasoline on his head, only to find that he saturated the matches and now they won’t light. There’s so much hopelessness on his face that he can’t even kill himself right, but at the same time, his ineptness is so endearing, you just want to hug him, really horrible wig and all. (The boy’s pretty, but even with a wig on, there’s no denying he’s a guy.)
Katherine attaches the television to a long extension cord, lugs it out to the pool, tries to throw it in as she jumps in and the the TV gets unplugged right before they both hit the water. So, she tries to do the same with the toaster and manages to knock a tall kitchen cabinet over on herself.
Both call their shrink, the wonderful Dr. Bangley, played by the equally wonderful John Larroquette. Bangley is a guy who really wants to help people, but gets caught up in being a “celebrity”. Luckily, he has his daughter to bring him back to earth. Bangley’s agent, Stevens, played by the always hate-able Greg Germann, tells him not to worry about it, he’ll get the patients to Vegas so Bangley can see them, and still do the book signing. Stevens calls Omar, the most lovable wanna be gangsta I’ve ever seen. From the moment his cellphone rings and the ringtone is his eight year-old daughter’s laughter, you know this guy is a softie at heart. He takes the job Stevens offers, and heads out to get Geert and Katherine, gently helping a gasoline sodden Geert up from the floor of his garage, and lifting the kitchen cabinet off Katherine, before hand cuffing them both and stowing them in the back of his SUV.
Anyone who will handcuff and then lock two helpless psychotics in the back of his SUV, all the while apologizing profusely, is a guy I can like. And, when his day with his daughter runs a little long and they can’t leave for Vegas until the next morning, he brings them pillows and a blanket. Of course, he keeps them handcuffed and locked in the back of his SUV overnight, but still. Pillows and blankets. The most touching moment in the whole movie is when Geert, Katherine, and Omar are stranded in the desert after getting car jacked and Omar is kicking himself over the whole thing and Geert tells him he’s not a loser and he’s “taking very good care of us.” It’s oh so evident that Geert believes he can’t take care of himself. I’m pretty sure this is one of Skarsgard’s first American films (His first was Zoolander. Go play Spot the Skarsgard. You’ll be surprised.) and the vulnerability in that small snippet shows the length and breadth of what he’s capable of as an actor.
And then there’s Lola, played by Lolita Davidovich, the truly crazy one of the bunch, and Erik, our hapless narrator. After the third time Erik manages to get his car and his wallet and himself away from Lola, and then goes back for her, I was done with both of them. After that, I managed to sit through their scenes, but only to get to Geert and Catherine and Omar.
Kill Your Darlings is a good movie, not a great movie, but a pretty okay one. The main plot stinks, but the subplots are full of great characters and stories (and acting). At just a smidge over an hour and a half, it’s also not a huge time suck. And, it has a happy, shmaltzy ending. My favorite kind. ☺
I give it a C+.
Starring: John Larroquette, Lolita Davidovich, Andreas Wilson, Fares Fares, Julie Benz, Alexander Skarsgard, Greg Germann
Sep
28
2009
From my friend Jenny. Because we can all use an attitude adjustment. And because it’s fun.
Sep
27
2009
Hi everyone!
We’re back! With a new header (Thank you Holly) and a great new site (Thank you Adam!).
I still learning my way around things here, but expect some new stuff as often as I can get it posted.
Can’t wait to have fun!!
Sep
20
2009
Oh, and a quick shout out to Jennifer Carpenter of Dexter. She’s a local girl and I hope her new husband wins tonight!
Sep
20
2009
I don’t usually watch awards shows, but I’m really enjoying the Emmy’s this year. Especially since they’ve recognized Kristen Chenowith for Pushing Daisies. Pushing Daisies was a fantastic show that is not longer on the air.
Which was a stupid decision!!
Yay Kristen!!! I’ve loved you since West Wing!
Apr
29
2009
Back in October, the lovely Beki and I spent a long weekend at the beach at our very own Writer’s Retreat. The whole weekend was wonderful. Lots of laughing, walks on the beach to talk about story and work off too many doughnuts, and lots and lots of writing. Since then? I’ve written Nada. Nothing. Zilch.
It’s been very depressing and frustrating.
For much of the time since October I’ve struggled with the thought that maybe I wasn’t meant to be a writer. By writer, I mean published writer, but I also mean just someone who likes to tell the stories floating around in her head. If I couldn’t manage to eek out a sentence in seven freaking months, then maybe I was just kidding myself. Writing wasn’t where my future lie. Because if I were a writer — a real writer — I wouldn’t have struggled with having the energy to write, would I? I would have been able to get up early in the morning and write before going to the day job. I did that for years, why can’t I do it now?
All of this internal angst served to do little else but make me feel guilty, depressed and frustrated.
Then, last week, I had a bit of an epiphany. I realized that I’m not avoiding writing, I’m avoiding feeling. I don’t know about other writers, but when I write I have to open a couple of doors in my head. The first door is the door to the basement where “The Girls” live. “The Girls” are the muses that send me story pieces and then I have to figure out how the pieces fit together. But, the other door I have to open is the door to my emotions.
For me, and I suspect for all writers, I can’t write with any kind of truth if I can’t let myself feel what my characters are feeling. If my character is feeling pain, happiness, sorrow, or even love, I can’t find the words I need to paint the picture of my stories without letting myself feel those same emotions. I’ve always thought that writers and actors have a lot in common because we both have to insert ourselves into a character’s head to fully tell their story.
But, lately, there’s been one huge cloud looming on the horizon of my life that I’ve been studiously and actively ignoring. And, the only way to ignore it was to shove the door to my emotions closed and flip the lock. That “cloud” has been my imminent transition from single mom to empty nester. I’m writing more about this over on My Not So Empty Nest blog, but how the whole experience is affecting my writing goes here. What hit me upside the head like a giant two-by-four was that I’ve been avoiding dealing with all the sadness I feel about Sunshine going off to college, and in doing so, I’ve locked my emotions into a deep freeze. How am I supposed to write when I can’t bring myself to open that door? Subconsciously, because, again, big time ignoring going on, I’ve been scared that if I open that door, what I’m feeling about Sunshine going off to college will escape and dive bomb me like crows in an Alfred Hitchcock movie and I won’t be able to get the door shut again. Nor would I be able to crack open the door and just pull out those emotions I need. Nope, doesn’t work that way for me. I’m an all or nothing kinda girl. That door is going to be wide open and breezy, or closed and locked up tight.
So, what’s a writer who can’t let herself feel to do? Well, in my case, I came home, numbed myself with TV and skidded off into the ditch. For seven freaking months. I’ve read that the first step to fixing the problem is naming the problem. So, I’ve taken the first step. I’ve named it. Fear. That’s pretty much what it comes down to. It’s not pretty, but there it is, the Truth. Well, my Truth anyway.
I’m still having moments when I’m not sure I’m supposed to write. But, if I look at what’s going on in my head and in my writing space at home, my actions aren’t necessarily jiving with my thoughts. I still have my collage of the current WIP sitting on my desk. I still think about the characters. I still think about other stories I’d like to write. I’m still buying stickies to use for specific stories. Heck, I’m still writing dialogue in my head. So, maybe I do still want to be a writer. Now, I just need to get my Truth to overpower my Fear and get me out of the ditch.
I’ll keep ya’ll posted…☺