as much as i wanted to watch fellini's satyricon so i could more fully understand that dweeb in annie hall............. i didn't last but 18 minutes, and had to read the wikipedia page instead............... i didn't last but 3 minutes and had to blog about the death of my latin battery instead.
i feel about satyricon as i feel about jellyfish as i feel about 29 palms. it is a sad day when i have 3 movies to report in an ill manner.
never have i walked out of a movie at the rafael (my favorite movie theatre in town, of which i am a member, of which only shows indie/art/historical films). seriously, every movie i have seen there was just incredible. and then i watched jellyfish. and then i walked out.
29 palms. geesh. within the first 4 minutes, i could tell the dude was a terrible actor, the chick sucked, and even the first sex scene was ridiculous. but i wanted to see the other sex scenes, so i watched the movie on x2. masculin, feminin - required viewing. felt like i was in college sneaking into anna's film class with her, while thinking about how cute eric b. was. there were parts of teh movie everyone should memorize of course. and then it ended.
mama roma - what i saw of this - was INCREDIBLE. but then i never got around to finishing the movie. i was out of it last week.
a bunch of asian director movies from criterion collection - good, but am i listing them by name and giving you the details? NO.
and now i take out satyricon, and insert my life as a dog.
weak, mildly interesting men are............ just that.
having you call the shots? how mundane.
they hang out together. they are talking. they are talking with undertones that you might show your face. you need some popcorn for your movie. reluctantly you go upstairs and pop your popcorn. half orgasmic that you are having a cozy night with popcorn and movie. touching yourself on the way there and back. so anyway there they are. mundaning away. staring at you. one stares a lot. one talks a lot. telling you a story about the trees. you going hm and ah. hm. ah. in your silence they realize oh. bummer. and then your popcorn is popped, you retreat. giddy. and they get quiet and go to their rooms to pout.
now what kind of men are these? who does this?
this is how you would hang around a mother. this is how you would hang around an owner.
leave mommy without you tonight. she is watching a movie. mama can't throw the ball. she is watching a movie.
hey hey tonight is a big barn party. dan's puttin' rowdy in the car, and i'm puttin' myself on a bike, and then we are all meeting up at the barn. whats the barn? a place in petaloomer where you can stomp & dance & roll & camp. the beer is brewed right there. its where i rang in the new year, and so far its been a good new year, so i figure i should never miss another party.
yo yo belle & sebastian the life pursuit ain't to bad if yah ask me.
hm. have nests evolved? they've just always been this perfectly built circle, twig by twig, by grass blade, by grass blade. always making these circles for comfort. for mama birds hot ass, and baby birds shells. always this round circle. never has papa bird said "i'm going to build a cellar on this nest."
there are so many unanswered questions with the dad who locked his daughter in the cellar thing.
i liked how one tabloid - i mean newspaper - called it the "austrian syndrome" or something like that. apparently this has happened before in austria, and now all the austrians need to be assessed.
this was more than locking her in a basement. this was calculated fairytale shit. this was i'm building a cellar for my daughters 19th birthday stuff. this was when sleeping beauty turns 21, she will be kissed by a prince. aren't the bulk of fairytales from eastern europe?
so many pieces not quite put together. i hope it turns out that the grandmother - his wife - her mom - is senile. i hope she like, has some kind of mental disability. what woman knows not their house? what woman knows not their garden? where the one child was burned.
al roker is shrinking again. good for him. maybe he got another stomach surgery? is that legal?
i open the. fire door to 4 lips. none of which were mine, kissing. tight my belt around my hips. where your hands were missing. -a. difranco.
i had a dream that i had to get my legs amputated below the knee, without anestetic. my brother was there. and then they decided against the surgery. very stressful dream.
and then monique and i went to a ralph lauren warehouse sale. i bought a few dresses, and then a plaid shirt for joshua. he liked the shirt so much, that he and i went back to the warehouse sale, and he purchased a bunch of fishing equipment, and some clothes. ralph lauren bought the rights to coleman fishing equipment.
well wipe the dust off of your wings, and the sleep out of your eyes. -t. van zandt
so yesterday was superstitious. i kept having blossoms fall on me from the sky. the 50s kept saying oh, that means you are fertile. now this is strange talk for them. yesterday's lunch was highly focused on the fact that i am fertile, and them finding someone to make me un-fertile. again, they never talk about that. they are more interested in telling stories.
2 birds have set up shop in one of my hanging plants. have i mentioned this? not only 2 birds - 2 bird FAMILIES. i guess they were really close. the families. they were like "sure, lets go lay eggs, but can't we do it with johnny and claire? lets find a spot where we can all lay eggs together." so that very spot is my 12 dollar hanging plant from home depot. one of the bird nests has 5 eggs. again, did you know its good luck when a bird lays nest in your house? and what about 2 bird nests? lucky son-of-a-gun.
so there are 5 eggs. did you know that bluejays eat sparrow eggs? they do. while mr. bird goes out foraging for food, mrs. bird sits by the nest, protecting it from bluejays. apparently the blue jay is a modern day teradactyl. i am goign to watch the whole thing first-hand of course. i'll keep you posted.
there is a photographer i found that takes pictures of animals in houses. like, wild animals. this is my version on the theme
its been one of those stories that i can't shake, simply because it hit close to home. i have to write it out.
i biked over it monday too. but on monday i simply thought "oh, there are flares in the road. must have been some construction last night." on monday there were no flowers. on thursday there was an RIP. and a bag of flowers.
he was 22.
i biked over "R glove" spray-painted in orange about 20 feet away from the pavement blood. as i realized what my tires just touched. played the scene through my head. wheels kept turning, etc. i crossed myself like a fool. head heart right left. and screamed out loud for him.
AHHHHHHHHH. SORRY! I AM SORRY!
i wasn't saying sorry for biking over his blood. i was saying sorry for any pain he might have felt. saying sorry for his mistake in crossing over the yellow line. saying sorry for being so young. just saying sorry in a general way. that i am alive, and he is not.
i dunno. its been interesting. these bike rides. when i bike in unpopulated placed - ie: backroads, country settings, remote hills - it is more dangerous than biking on the freeways, neighborhoods, bridges. people let loose in the backroads. people drive faster. turn up the music. take the curves like a volkswagen commercial. so i bike with one headphone in. the other out. the other ear on the road. what is behind me. what is below. what is ahead.
throughout the week i keep things i find here, in this 'of note' series. welcome, to the 3rd installment.
did that sound like npr or what?
ok. so this weekend is going to be fun-filled as sadie from milwaukee rang me yesterday saying she is in town w/ kyle, who will be running the big sur marathon. i love visitors, and sadie is always up for fun. and i'm sort of in awe that kyle has been preparing for a marathon, given the fact that milwaukee is cold as the middle of hell during winter.
i biked to nicasio today. really outdid myself. admitted to myself that i am actually afraid of redwood trees. went to jimbos, got the works. met a few people. checked out from the library: charles mingus, thelonius monk, beatles, fiona apple, belle and sebastian cds. criterion collection dvds: 2 ko movies, band of outsiders, 2 russian movies. sex and lucia, the holiday (easy watching). oh and i got a harvey milk doc for the brain.
god if you can, see the movie irina palm, if nothing but to get you into marianne faithfull. what a beauty. and google imaging her has been nothing but a treat.
irina palm is a movie about handjobs (essentially - don't try to tell me its about the kid she's trying to save. the audience could give two shits about the kid. he was hardly in the movie, and passed out the whole time.) however, looking at mariannes faithfull lips made me think maybe she should be giving other jobs.
what a movie. and look how this woman can look so different in all these black and whites.
pretty religiously, during the m-f workweek, while most everyone is toiling away at their desks - or not toiling away at their desks. paid for by someone else. toiling for another person's idea, etc. i get on my bike and ride it 13.5 miles to mill valley. the goal being sarah's new house. sarah is there, making jewelry in her new studio. her new house is cute. so is sarah. so is her toiling. so we gab for 10 minutes, and i am now accustomed to taking a swig of dixie peach drink. every sunday, i buy a gallon, and drive it over to sarah's house for monday's ride.
as with most activities, this ride gives me a way to listen to new music (sort of like a commute would), and it is also a chance to not check email or phones for about 3 hours. in today's world this can be incredibly DIFFICULT. right? it gives me a chance to be solitary, with my mind and my body for 2+ hours - minus the time with sarah. talking with her, drinking the peach is my goal on the way there. on the way home is sort of when i let loose and think like crazy. recently "on the way there" i've been fighting demons! "turn back" "you can't do it" "you are so slow" incredible! right? it makes me think of this guy i met - his name is matt. he works in san rafael at the recyclery. the summer i biked daily as a commuter from mill valley to the city, matt would always speed by me on the golden gate. how did i know it was matt? because he only has one arm. so every day i would get my ass seriously kicked not only by matt, but by the fact that we both left work at the same time, and he had an extra 12 miles to go before catching me on the bridge. so of course i needed to talk to him. i went over to the recyclery one day and said "you are always passing me on the bridge". his response: "i am chasing a lot of demons." and that is when i kind of fell in love with him? but i knew it would never be anything because well, he is chasing a lot of demons. but i loved his answer, and as much as i wanted to say "i wanna chase demons with you" i know i don't have that "i am chasing demons" look, so i just shut my mouth and smiled, and wondered if he has ever experienced true love. that is so girl of me. anyway.
that summer i biked over the bridge was a special one. all summers are. for my birthday, my parents gave me money for a roadbike. all i wanted to do was bike, dog, and knit. i managed a yarn shop, i didn't have internet, and i lived in hipsterville. i ate burritos from the scary part of the mission. i biked like a madman and when i got home i knitted. i knit like 89 hats that year. i look back and call it my year of knitting. whats interesting is that i have since heard of 2 other women in their late 20's who moved to san francisco and spent the first year knitting. one of them went to purchase with me. i find this interesting why? is it san francisco? the weather in the city is so terrible in the summer. its like winter. why do we spend it all inside, listening to the radio? but i was content. so go figure. thank god that year ended though. i have no desire to knit. i despise it. i don't think i would even be able to pick up knitting needles right now. i can sew, sure. but knit? it actually makes me physically sick.
so anyway, back to today. i started my 30mile bike ride today thinking about how FICKLE the election has become. i am officially back on the fence. i was off the fence a bit, and set up my tent at camp obama. but now i'm back on that stupid fence. this is a second by second election. well, maybe a minute by minute election. it really IS INDECISION 2008. i think i'm back in camp hillary. i tutored her godchild. i've met her. sure, shes all creepy and powerful. but she's been there. and clinton was so cool and sexy. so i'm back in camp hillary. i was in camp hillary the whole time, until i got side-tracked by this evangelist. maybe once he serves some time, we can put him in office. 8 years of hillary, then 8 years of obama. then america will be bloody perfect. and i will make more than 60bloodyK per year.
