In pencil, on a paper placemat

This was a list I wrote myself around July of this year. I'm not feeling as unstable as I was then, but it's a meaningful period piece.

Reasons to be kind to myself:

I'm in mourning.
I feel lost and abandoned.
I'm hungry and haven't had time to take care of myself today.
I'm worthy of love.
Astrid loves me.
I'm a good person.
This is temporary.
I'm okay.
I have a family and friends who love me.
I deserve kindness.
I am learning how to be a good therapist, and it's okay not to be perfect.

April Overload

April was incredible: more than I asked for, in good ways and pretty terrible ways. Here's a handy-dandy timeline of my life over the last four or five weeks:


April 1: I ran into my ex-girlfriend N. for the first time in nearly four years. It was sweet, and it was bitter, and I don't really know what to say about it.

April 2: Astrid and I took a guy home from a bar together. He was Quebecois, and quoted Baudelaire in bed. Astrid and he had outrageous chemistry, but it was damned fun for me, too!

April 3: Astrid and Montréal Boy had a second glorious date together while I hung out with pals for the evening, then dropped from exhaustion.

April 4: My mom called me in the morning. Her doctor found a mass in her lung. As I adjusted to this news, Astrid and I joined pals for an invigorating hike in the freezing rain on Mount Tam.

April 6: Astrid and I celebrated the fifth annual Orbit Day: the anniversary of our first date!

April 11: A dear friend of astro-b's was in town for the weekend. He's geeky-sweet, just what I like in a boy. I suckered him into bed with me, eventually. I guess April was the month for my latent bisexuality to emerge. Grin.

April 20: We learned that the mass in Mom's lung isn't the only one. She's got "suspicious" masses in or near her liver and kidneys, in her bones, between her shoulder blades. Everywhere. We're still waiting for the biopsy results.

April 29: Evidently my clinical supervisor had an intense April as well. She informed me that due to a personal crisis in her family, she would need to resume seeing clients on Fridays, which has been one of my two full days to use our shared office space. In other words, my internship and my weekly schedule are going to be altered in a major way.

Shit howdy, I'm glad it's May.

Inappropriate Therapy Dream

Dreamt that I was in a therapy session, which was also a performance review, with my client and my supervisor. My client was my ex-girlfriend N. She reported to us that the therapy had been enjoyable and productive so far, to her surprise. Relieved at this news, I then proceeded to tell my client/ex that it was time for us to start talking about termination, since it's clear that I should no longer be her therapist. I was nervous about "breaking up" with her in this way, and she was a little upset, but nothing unmanageable.

After she left the office, my supervisor and I chatted lightly and she revealed that she had previously done therapy with N.'s current partner. She then showed me cards she'd received for her birthday, a card from my friend Mag with pressed, dried sunflowers in it, and a card from my friend B. with pressed, dried tulips in it. As many of you no doubt are aware, Mag and B. themselves are a long-ago broken up ex-couple. And, as you can imagine, neither of them know my supervisor in "real life."

Venture some interpretations, dear readers?

Keys

Had a dream that my old friend Ives, who I haven't been in contact with for years, created a mechanical gadget that he wanted to show me. I don't remember the purpose of the thing, but it managed to distract my attention from a pile of valuable possessions of mine. When I got back to my stuff, it had been messed with, but nothing material was stolen. I found the key to my apartment and the key to my new office bent and unusable.

I just received the key to the office from my supervisor a few days ago. When I left the office, I'd had a momentary pang of anxiety because I hadn't checked it on the door to make sure it worked. The dream emphasized this fear. It's as if I feel like I don't belong in either my home or my profession. Or I'm distracted by shiny things, by connections to the past, and not tending to my life and work. This isn't entirely true of course, but it's the feeling I was left with.

Blue, Part Two

Today's been difficult, a confluence of sadness and irritation, plummeting self-confidence and escalating fear. I've felt insecure with Astrid, who for her part has been cranky with me since yesterday, ornery 'cause she feels like she has no space and time for herself, especially since her summer work schedule has been so hellish. I've in turn been pouty and needy and self-involved to the nth. We had planned to go to a queer tango event, and at the last minute I said I felt ambivalent about going. And I was ambivalent, am almost always ambivalent about going dancing, because it touches so many tender spots for me: it makes me feel clumsy, self-conscious of my body and doubtful of my capacity to learn new things, to be open to change, to be open to what Astrid needs. I want to be able to shut off my symbolic thinking, focus on the moment, the dancing, the feeling of being in Astrid's arms as she leads me on the floor, but every misstep, every blunder feels like failure, feels like I'm not good enough, I'll never be good enough.

And then I get even more angry at myself and withdrawn, because I've heard this all before. This internal monologue of punishment is so fucking old and tired and old and old and old. And then I remember that this is exactly what I'm not supposed to do, what I tell my therapy clients all the time: feel your feelings of sadness, of fear, but don't pile self-hatred on top of it. Be kind to yourself. Feeling fear, feeling grief, is okay. It's not going to disintegrate you. Neediness is not going to drive your lover away. Be gentle to yourself. Be curious about your feelings. Breathe.

Too many good byes of late, and too much imminent uncertainty. P.'s death just two weeks ago, still reeling internally from ending my two years at the clinic, saying good-bye to my supervisor and to my colleagues. And I'm mourning my changing relationship with Minoba, and missing her. It's all weighing heavily. And then there's this craziness of starting my own therapy practice. Who the fuck is gonna pay me $90 to listen to them for fifty minutes, for christ's sake?

I did end up tangoing today. I'm glad I did, though it wasn't free from the above anxiety and sadness. I had fun; I always enjoy it more than I think I will going into it. And Astrid was glad I came, I guess. She said so, anyway, and she's good on her word. Just wish I believed it today.

Blue

Saying good bye to the clinic, to my co-workers, to my supervisor, to the organization that's been such a big part of my life the last two years. It's tough. I'm feeling melancholy. At the same time, I'm beginning my new private practice psychotherapy internship, which is so much more anxiogenic right now than exciting. I have no idea when I will actually start making an income.

I'm also feeling unsure about where I'm at with the person formerly known as Myna and heretofore known as Minoba.* We're wrapping up at the clinic next week, and then we'll have a couple days together before she leaves on a summer adventure to the craggy shores of an unnamed island in the north Atlantic. We've been enjoying each other, and it's been close between us, hot as always, but I'm feeling confused about what might be next. I don't want my presence in her life to inhibit her from putting energy into finding a person to connect with as a more full partner. It seems questionable at this point if Minoba can really embrace being in my life in a more "secondary" way, always for lack of a better term for this. I fear it will be too triggering emotionally for her to carry on this way, and on my end, it saddens me that she seems to feel reticent to become part of my life more fully, connect with Astrid more deeply, and accept my situation as not indicting in any way of her or of my care for her. There aren't any easy answers; I think it's just a wait-and-see thing, something that will unfold with more time and experience between us. I'm just curious and anxious about how much time there will be to allow it to unfold.

____________________

* I'm in a quandary, 'cause I'm not liking the pseudonym "Myna" at all. I hadn't thought about the bird connotation, and that just doesn't seem fitting. I've decided to go with a version of her original suggestion which was Gertrude Minoba, but I'll just use Minoba for short. Sorry if I'm confusing anyone. So, you heard it here first, folks: the amorous friend of Bree's formerly known as Myna is now Minoba. New and improved.

Biting The Hand, Part Three

Yesterday was awful. After only two days at the new sales gig (selling a noble package of reading programs) I bailed. It's been two months since I got laid off from the last bookkeeping gig, and the sales job was commission-only. After another day of only making $20.00, I felt too stressed out to continue. Every rejection yesterday was like swallowing acid; I was crying after every call ended without a sale. Given doing psychotherapy is such an emotionally intense process, and I've been able to develop a reasonably thick skin in containing other people's often wrenching emotional states, it's strange that someone on the phone in Kennebunk or Charlotte telling me they have to check with their husband first could inflict so much damage.

My shame about money is huge. I'm 36 years old, a masters graduate, and I've never made more than $28K in a year of working. And that $28K was years ago—I'll be lucky if I cleared $10K in '08. Granted, I had student loans til August, but due to the implosion of my grad program, I went without my loan check for four months from December '07 to April of last year. And now I've been unemployed for four out of the seven months since graduation. The recession ain't my fault, I'm aware, and it's certainly not my fault that asshat fired me in the disgusting manner he did. But still I lash at myself: why don't you have any savings? Why couldn't you have made better decisions this year? Why are you repellent to money? After quitting yesterday, I made an appointment with my therapist who I haven't been able to afford to see in the last six months. I went on a bike ride to clear my head, landed at a diner where I ordered, you guessed it, chicken strips, and then had my therapy session, which my shrink provided gratis, bless his soul. I felt like shit all day and into the evening; my eyes were puffy and scratchy from crying. When Astrid came home from work, we had a difficult but emotionally connecting conversation.

Today is much better. I woke up early and embarked on the job search anew. I've eaten healthy food in reasonable amounts, I went to the gym, and made contact with a job lead. I did the dishes, mopped the kitchen floor. Did some blog promo work. Had a brief but grounding afternoon visit with Magna, who shared some almonds and dried apricots with me. I'm feeling confident I'll get some income soon. It can't come soon enough, though.

Messy No More

When I got home from work at the bookkeeping gig today, a well of anxiety emerged in my chest. My room was a mess, clothing balled up on the floor, stacks of unsorted papers beginning to accumulate on the desk I just cleaned two weeks before. The kitchen was a disaster, dishes and pots caked with two dinners' worth of food, crumbs moistened with oils and cooking juices pasted into the cutting board on the counter. I breathed in, and breathed out. I had to return a couple client phone calls, and for a moment doubted my ability to do any therapeutic good for them. And then I remembered: I am not a mess, and my life is not a mess. I am well-loved, and loving, and make time for my emotional well-being and the well-being of the people I care about and the people I serve in therapy. My space can be untidy, and it doesn't mean that I myself am messy or unclean or a disaster. And being "unclean," y'know, is sometimes a good thing, indeed.
The new year has brought me some much-needed perspective and a refocusing of goals. Not really a formal list of resolutions, but an acknowledgement that I have what I need to continue making a good life for myself, and contributing to the lives of the people I love. My mom and I had a heart-to-heart while we spent the weekend with the family at the annual retreat and hootenanny. She told me in no uncertain terms that I'm doing a crappy job keeping in touch with her, and we both cried our way through this painful but ultimately very important conversation. I've been a little irritated with her lately, because she often puts the guilt on thick about this sort of thing, but this time she was really sharing the feelings beneath that, and I knew I had to take it in. The subtext for me was, "I'm 72 years old, a lifelong smoker, and my parents were both dead by age 82. We've got ten more years together at best, kid. Step it up." And so I am stepping it up, and not just with Mom, but hopefully with my sisters, and my nieces and nephews, and my dearest friends who haven't seen enough of me the last couple years.

I'm broke, since I'm only working three days a week while I continue the internship at the clinic, but with the generosity of my girlfriend, also not rich by any stretch, we'll both survive it. We'll survive it, and then, soon, with some hard work and with some luck, I'll begin to build my therapy practice. I'm excited. I just received my official MFTI # in the mail a few days ago: I'm now a registered Marriage and Family Therapy Intern in the state of California. One step at a time.

Lastly, but not leastly, I got a message on Facebook from Bianca. Yep, that Bianca. And it was, to my delight, a completely respectful, authentically friendly message. Upon reading it, I was shocked, but warmly, and then I tapped into my anger about our last couple of interactions, and then into my deep, deep grief. I held Astrid in my arms that night at bedtime and cried for all the love lost in my life. The love that felt, in that moment, to be bereft of joy and stinking of pain. Astrid helped me to collect myself, and after a few days of feeling melancholy, I figured out how to respond to the message. It turned out to be the most genial exchange Bianca and I had had in probably ten years.

Life is good. And so's love. Happy New Year, everybody.


*Thanks to RJ for the petunia.

Procrastination Station

Working on a case presentation for my supervision group, and alternating this with glimpses of Facebook, long tangenting click-sessions on Wikipedia, and the writing of this and future blog entries. This pattern is reminding me of my angst-laden thesis days of the year-passed. Case presentations are way too much like homework assignments, informative to write and report with therapy peers, but such a drudgery to produce, if one is not in the mood, which clearly I am not. Give me shiny distractions, please! I pity the clients of mine who struggle with procrastination and think that I can actually help them.

A good thing came of today, though, which definitely portends breaking through some of the stagnation: I finally marched down to the post office and obtained my P.O. Box, a key step in filing my application for my therapy intern status with the Board of Behavioral Sciences. Many of my former classmates have already gotten their intern numbers, and I haven't even filed yet. What's worse is that the longer I wait, the more my already-clocked therapy hours will cease to count toward my license. I've gotten myself into this, and I'll get m'self out, eventually. I'm not too worried.

The Daily Grind

Hi friends. I haven't been able to blog so much since school started back up. I'd love to regale you with stories of my wacky adventures, but things have been decidedly unwacky lately. This is pretty much the routine:

Mondays - I leave at 8:45am for the clinic, where I've got a 10:00am process group (kinda like group therapy with the other interns), a clinic staff meeting at noon, and see clients in the afternoon. Then I come home and do school work.

Tuesdays - School work until I leave for class at about 2:30pm; the bike-and-BART commute to Alameda takes about 1.25 hours; then I'm in class til 10:00pm; then I arrive home at about 11:15-11:30pm.

Wednesdays - Clinic - 10:00am didactic training; 1:00pm group supervision; individual clients until 6:00pm; facilitate the grief therapy group til 8:00pm; home by about 9:30pm.

Thursdays - School work; personal therapy at noon; more school work; commute; class 4-10pm; commute; home 'round 11:30pm.

Fridays - Leave for 9:00am individual supervision by 7:45am; clients at the clinic from 11:00 to 4:00pm; do paperwork; home by about 5:30pm.

This morning when Astrid woke up for work, she kissed me and said something like, "See you in several days." The thing that's most sucky about my schedule, apart from the hella annoying commute to my new school, is that Mondays and Fridays are the only weekdays I'm actually home for dinner. Astrid and I pretty much just see each other at bedtime Tuesdays through Thursdays. Thankfully, now that we're back to class, the end is actually in sight. Come August, I might have a life again.

Kisses,
Bree

Nervous Energy

I'm not generally an insomniac, so it's kinda odd for me to be wide awake at 4:00am. It's a good kind of nervous in ways: we just got word, like yesterday, that the whole grad psych program is being transferred out to another university, and we have to fax in the registration papers by today at noon. Orientation is Thursday, and classes are supposed to start the following Tuesday. Big, big sigh of relief, yes, and at the same time, I'm so jumpy. Since starting the bookkeeping job just a couple weeks ago, my anxiety level has been through the roof.

There are a number of factors at play right now. Not only has the school situation moved abruptly from a lazy depressed stasis to a frenzy of registration deadlines, I'm also in the process of starting the grief group at the clinic, and saying good bye to my very first therapy client, whose last session is today. There are more kinds of grief than seeing someone die; there's also the kind of mourning when someone goes away.

My heightened energy also accounts for or has been stoked by a new project of mine. If you haven't stumbled upon it yet, feel free to swing over to my new blog and read all about my obsessions with food, my body, my health, and my reluctant desire to lose weight. All served up, if you will, with my own special sauce of chronic skepticism, critique, and celebration. Don't worry, though, Toothpicklabeling is still very much alive. Where else would you find all the grad school angst, popculture fetishes, and minutia of my daily life in one tidy online package?

I love my readers! Thanks for being there.

xo
Bree

I love my shrink

I've never blogged about my therapist before. I've mentioned being in therapy, but never anything specific about Mark, my dude. He is so light-hearted and takes my issues seriously but helps me create a relaxed, nonjudgmental space to contemplate them and start letting stuff go. Last week I went into therapy totally down on myself for how I've been eating lately. With everything going on with school, and the new bookkeeping job, I've been so fucking stressed out and eating everything in sight. I cried on the couch, feeling huge and awful and shitty. Mark basically told me to chill out and give myself some credit for coping with the stress. Since eating is one of my self-soothing strategies, it's not surprising that that's where I go when I'm freaked out. We talked about what I might do in the next week to stay grounded, and it totally calmed me down. I've been eating really healthfully all week, and feel bunches better. Just being reminded not to beat up on myself was really the key. Once I felt freer to cope by eating, and became more mindful of it and accepting of it, I wanted to do it less.

2007 Wrap!

Here it is, kids, your complete 2007 year-in-the-life-of-Bree. But before you start, do check out my last four years right here:

2006
2005
2004
2003

The Stuff that Happened in '07:

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* Astrid and I shacked up! This is a feat that occurred not without considerable angst on both our parts, given our respective histories of living with, and in my case, almost living with previous sweeties.

We're both pretty amazed and grateful that it's working as well as it is. We had a kick-ass housewarming party in March, and thus began our Alter to the Weird mantel installation. February '08 marks a year of living in sin!

* I started interviewing for clinical internships. I ended up applying to two really competitive places in the City that rejected me outright without a chance to interview. I also applied to work in the bereavement department at a hospice, doing short-term grief therapy with people who have recently lost loved ones. I had a killer interview (oof, no pun intended), and really hit it off with the director of the program, but they were too pokey about getting back to me, 'cause, as I was told later, they were holding out for someone a bit older if possible. Meanwhile, I interviewed at a fourth place, an LGBT mental health clinic, and ended up accepting a position there.

* Road-tripped down the coast for spring break. With our bikes tied to the back of the Astridmobile, the gf and I wound slowly 'round the coastal mountains, camped in Big Sur and biked through the wine country outside of Solvang. We bought some amazing chardonnay and pinot noir there and had a visit with some regal ostriches.

Moving further south, we did a great bike loop in Goleta through the UCSB campus, and then drove east to visit Astrid's family in the Mohave desert for Easter.

* My cousin Andrew died, tragically, horribly, wrongly. I’ve blogged about this before, so I won't belabor the point. I miss him. Everything else I will report about the year seems trifling in comparison, but it's the trifling matters that keep us sane, I guess.

* Astrid and I bought a couch!

* We wasted lots of time playing Dr. Mario on Astrid's old Nintendo 64 and watching back-to-back episodes of Buffy and Angel.

* I fucking finished my first year of grad school! I've immensely enjoyed being a student again, showing off my geeky chops, and using parts of my brain that had atrophied significantly over the last near-decade being a bean-counter. I've also learned a ton from my classmates and have made some really good pals. I would say, though, that I have mixed reviews on the whole about the hippy-dippy liberal arts college I chose. After two years at an institution that bounces student loan checks, hires mediocre instructors, and has been on WASC probation and on the brink of losing accreditation, I can't say I'd make the same choice again.

* Went on a camping trip at the Russian River. Highlights: swimmin' with the tadpoles, wine tasting, making killer aloo gobi over the campfire, snuggling with Ms. Astrid in the cozy tent.



*I rediscovered backgammon, a game I hadn't played in probably twenty years, and learned how to play dominoes, though I kind of suck.

* I resigned from my bookkeeping jobs!!! As of July of 2007, I turned in the ol' abacus and haven't looked back.

* I started my internship and began to work with my first psychotherapy clients. It's been an intense and humbling transition into this new work. I still have pretty much no idea what I'm doing, but the learning is really magical, and fucking hard, man.

* Astrid and I started taking ballroom dance lessons! We've learned a little rumba, swing (West Coast, East Coast, Lindy Hop, Charleston), and dabbled with some tango and foxtrot.

I hope as school mellows out, I'll be able to dance much more often with Astrid, 'cause she is, amazingly, even more radiant when spinning on a dance floor, shining that ecstatic smile at me.

* I avoided writing my thesis. Majorly. But as of this writing, the first draft (a drafty draft, indeed) has been handed in.

The Annual Pop/Culture Reviews:

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Many of you know my trusty two-pronged rating system by now. If not, here's the method-in-madness:

1. The Star System - to convey my idea of the "objective merit" of a piece of work (i.e. if I were a professional critic, these are the ratings I'd give the thing). Wherein…

zero stars = abysmal
* = meh
** = average
*** = respectable
**** = outstanding
***** = incomparable

2. Ranked-order – For each category, I will order from top to bottom, indicating the read, flick, or show I enjoyed the most to the least in that section. The way I rank shit may or may not correlate with the cultural zeitgeist (it often doesn't). This is how I can get away with ranking, say, Barbarella (**1⁄2) over the four-star Taxi Driver.



Capiche? Okay, onward!

The Books I Read in '07:

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The Denial of Death by Ernest Becker **** (1973) – the book that inspired my thesis topic, Becker's influential Pulitzer winner rewrites psychoanalytic theory from an existential perspective, posing that the basic anxiety facing humanity is the terror of death. From this point of departure, Becker considers the psychological and philosophical explanations that connect basic character structure and psychopathology to the death anxiety. Highly recommended for all you cerebral types or anyone interested in death studies, existential philosophy, and critique of psychoanalysis. I mark it down from five stars because of Becker's dated take on the nature of homosexuality (this book was written before the psychiatric establishment changed its official stance on queerness as pathology) and also for Becker's insistence on a spiritual answer to the basic problem of death anxiety, lauding Christianity in particular. I think it's an annoyingly culture-bound conclusion to this otherwise extraordinary book.

Nerds 2.0.1.: A Brief History of the Internet by Stephen Segaller ***1/2 (1998)



- One of those street-sale scores, Astrid and I picked up this book quite randomly while on our way to eat a bowl of clam chowder, as I remember. I couldn't resist buying it when I read the ballpoint inscription in the front leaf (all in caps, mind you) "TO SOMEONE WHO WILL NEVER BE ONE…LOVE, MOM & DAD, 12/99." Ah, the blissful ignorance of well-meaning parents who don't understand that the geek identity has been firmly reclaimed. The book provides an overview of the history of the construction of the internet, from its modest bureaucratic beginnings at the Pentagon in the '60s to the era of microcomputing and commercialization of the web. Importantly, the author tells the story in a way simpletons like me can understand. Since the book and accompanying PBS documentary were produced in 1998, you can imagine how much of the story had yet to unfold. In this sense, it's as dated as Adam Sandler's hair in The Wedding Singer. But if you're a non-geek and curious about what the hell "packet switching" is and interested to hear about the launch of ALOHAnet, the first wireless computer network (all the way back in 1970!!) this is a really relaxed and educational read.

Anal Pleasure and Health by Jack Morin ****½ (1998, revised 3rd ed.) This is the ultimate Butt Bible, the most straight-forward and least embarrassing tome you can own that can help you find the way to digestive and anal-muscular health and pain-free anal exploration. Pick this book up if you want to reduce anal tension, become less freaked out about anal functions, increase your overall wellness, and get more enjoyment out of playing with your arse. The very small critique I would offer is that Morin's book gives very little attention to women who have sex with women (wsw).

His small research sample had very few lesbians/wsw, and I would love to see a book that included more discussion of anal sexuality among dykes. That said, the language in this 3rd edition is inclusive and widely applicable to people of all genders and sexualities, as well as to people who are interested in anal health more generally and not as drawn to the topic of sexual exploration.

Mortified ***1/2 (2006) edited by David Nadelberg. Mortified, the book, is an anthology of hits from the live shows of the same name, which happen regularly in New York, LA, Boston, San Francisco, and Chicago. The premise is simple: adults read their childhood and teenage diaries, letters, awful poetry, and other real-life angsty accounts, verbatim, in front of a live, frenetically laughing audience. "Mortified" has become quite a phenomenon, producing this book, and a forthcoming sequel (Mortified 2: Love is a Battlefield, due out this winter), as well as a host of merch and related video clips. To get a feel for the "Mortified" oeuvre, check out this pathetically hilarious story by Will Nolan, I Hate Drake.



Immaterial Facts: Freud's Discovery of Psychic Reality and Klein's Development of His Work **** (1988) by Robert Caper. One of the assigned readings for my Advanced Psychotherapy Techniques class, this book is a real gem, because it explains, in comprehensible prose, the context and timeline of Freud's theories and the clarification and modification of his work by Melanie Klein. This could be an enjoyable read for psych students and laypeople alike, though if you're unfamiliar with psychoanalytic theory, you might want to refer to other sources to help with the terminology. Try the allpsych dictionary as a companion reading.

Bicycling the Pacific Coast **** (2005, 4th ed.) Thorough and well organized guide to biking from Vancouver, B.C. to the California-Mexico border. We used this book extensively on our springtime car/bike trip down the coast. Full of easy-to-navigate maps, points of interest, hostel and campground info, and detailed route descriptions. Applicable for both novice and skilled cyclists.

Strangers In Paradise, Volume 3 **1/2 by Terry Moore. I enjoyed the third volume, but not nearly as much as the first two. I must trudge forward with the series once I'm done with all this thesis nonsense.

Yiddish with Dick and Jane ***, by Ellis Weiner and Barbara Davilman, with illustrations by Gabi Payn. Pretty funny parody of the old D&J primers, with a Yiddish flare and contemporary irony. Check out the abbreviated and quite clever YouTube version.

Films on the Big Screen:

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No Country for Old Men ***** (2007) The Cohen Brothers' latest is certainly the best movie I've seen in some time, and the only new movie I've given five stars since Dirty Pretty Things back in 2003. No Country is the kind of movie you could put in a time capsule for people to dig up a hundred years from now so they might truly know America, in its arid beauty and its (masculine) antisocial violence. Amazing cinematography, performances, plot development, pacing, and a haunting simplicity that subtly masks the layers of meaning within. Check out Rocchi's review at Cinematical for a more thorough discussion. My only criticism is that the story, like so many other films (and the book it's based on), is concerned solely with the male experience and gives very little attention to the women whose lives are impacted by the narrative. I won't detract any stars for this, but I'm noting it because I really do want to see more films this brilliant about women's lives.

Pan's Labyrinth **** (2006) - beautiful fantasy by Mexican director Guillermo Del Toro in which a young girl splits her time between the enclave of her fascist general stepfather in Franco-era Spain and the magical, and sometimes just as dangerous, underworld of the labyrinth.

Little Darlings ***½ (1980) - revival at the Castro. Anyone who knows me is aware of my Little Darlings fixation. Seeing it at the Castro was fucking awesome.

Pump Up The Volume ***1/2 (1990) – revival at the Castro. Also a treat to see on the big screen, the energy and spirit of this movie hold up over time, as does Christian Slater's performance. The pseudo-philosophic-politico rants are fluffy and vague, but this is as radical as Hollywood gets, I guess. And, um, the rooftop make-out scene with Samantha Mathis: hot, hot, hot!

Margot at the Wedding ***½ (2007)

Noah Baumbach's latest film starring Nicole Kidman, Jennifer Jason Leigh (who I adore), and Jack Black.

Bleak and depressing in not nearly the clever and ultimately redemptive way that Squid was. The plot is weak relative to the rich character development that reveals the players' sympathetic sides just to the point that you can embrace them despite how self-absorbed and embarrassing they are. The performances are strong all around, and the dialogue is a solid B+, but I wish Baumbach would concern himself with a world beyond the idiosyncrasies of the East Coast intelligentsia.

"In mainstream movies the woman's role is mostly just to prove that the leading man is heterosexual. I'm not good at that, and I'm not interested in that." -Jennifer Jason Leigh

Citizen Kane ****½ (1941) - revival at the Castro. After seeing Citizen Kane again, for the first time on the big screen, I must admit that it wasn't quite as extraordinary as I'd previously felt. The visual mastery, innovative plot devices, and prescient political commentary are still truly captivating, and Orson Welles' performance is magnificent, one of the all-time best. My only critique is the other performances, which on the whole, were schmaltzy even giving allowance for the staginess so often present in films of the era.

Sicko *** (2007) - Michael Moore's latest documentary about the shitty American health care system. Depressing, as would be expected, given the subject matter. Full of fascinating international comparisons, from Paris to Cuba. Unfortunately also full of Michael Moore's usual heavy-handed narration which presumes the audience to be incapable of formulating its own opinions. Bless him for cracking open the glass ceiling on documentary, but here's hoping that someday he branches out stylistically.

Footloose **1/2 (1984) – revival at the Castro (double-feature with Pump Up The Volume). The less satisfying of the two movies, but full of fun 80s popculty nostalgia and deliciously over-the-top melodrama.

Sixteen Candles **1/2 (1984) – revival at Dolores Park. I think this teen angst flick from the John Hughes oeuvre is plainly classic, with highlights including paying a buck to see Molly Ringwald's underpants in the boy's bathroom, the jock-strap donning nerds, Jake and Caroline dancing to "True" by Spandau Ballet.

But the cheap racist/sexist humor tarnishes this movie substantially. Here's some commentary generated from the screening at Dolores Park this summer, concerning the depiction of Long Duck Dong, played by Gedde Watanabe. People don't seem to get as visibly upset about the sexism as they do about the racist caricatures, but it pisses me off every time I see the scene after the party, when Jake tells Farmer Ted "I could violate (a passed out Caroline) ten different ways if I wanted to." Overall, kind of painful to re-watch. And seeing this movie at Dolores Park, while a nice idea, was logistically awful: the park was so crowded, there was no way of getting an undisturbed view of the screen, and the sound was even worse.

For the Bible Tells Me So **1/2 (2007) – a documentary about how Christians should tolerate milquetoasty gays because we're just like everybody else. I would recommend the film to moderate/liberal Christian folks who want to ignite their own inclusive activism, but I think other documentaries that address homophobia and LGBT culture do a much better job at portraying more realistic and diverse images of queers. This one speaks to a very narrow margin of religious people who are already open-minded: in more cliché words, it's preaching to the choir.

TV shows on DVD

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Which last year was dominated by a certain vampire slayer…

Buffy the Vampire Slayer – Season One ***, Season Two ****, Season Three ****, Season Four **½ , Season Five ****, Season Six *****, Season Seven ***½

Angel - Season One***, Season Two****, Season Three*****, Season Four **

What can I say about the Buffyverse and how much it's impacted my life in 2007? After watching nearly the whole of two series' worth of episodes, totaling some two hundred hours of DVD viewing, all the while in grad school getting my masters degree, you might say I've double majored in psychology and Buffyology. I seriously considered incorporating aspects from Buffy into my thesis, but it's a bit late for that. But needless to say, the themes in the series, specifically about death and destruction and love in the face of death, are some of what has gotten me so severely addicted.

Here are some good Buffyverse links, which are, naturally, full of spoilers. I've had to be vary sparing in my internet snooping about Buffy til recently, so I haven't explored these sites very thoroughly. Here are my impressions of some of 'em:

Buffycritic.Com

If you can suffer through the annoying pop-up ads, this site is a great all-around resource for Buffy/Angel fandom. It has summaries and intelligent reviews of the episodes by season, with ratings broken down into dramatic and comedic elements, as well as for how well the episode moved the story arc.

Much Ado About Buffy the Vampire Slayer

One of the only decently designed sites on general Buffy/Angel interest, as well as one of the only sites that has recent content (many fansites stopped growing after the shows wrapped in 2003/2004.) The cast/character page has adorable clickable avatars of all the major and recurring characters.

All Things Philosophical on Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel: The Series

Ginormous amount of psycho/philosophical babble about all aspects of the 'verse, including character motivations, moral ambiguities, good vs. evil, the various theories of philosophy represented in the series, discussion boards, etc.

Above the Law: Asking Questions of Mythos, Metaphysics, and Morality in Buffy the Vampire Slayer

A message board about various themes in the 'verse. Pretty dated, but cool to see fans posting their thoughts, excitements, and gripes in real-time while the series ran.

Documentaries on DVD

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An Inconvenient Truth **** (2006) – the Al Gore documentary on global warming. If you haven't seen it, please do. While the narrative style (much like Al Gore himself) is a bit dry, the information presented really speaks for itself, powerfully. And please stop driving so fucking much, okay? That is all.

The right-wingers want you to believe this is a "natural" phenomenon that has nothing to do with industrialization and pollution.

The Celluloid Closet **** (1995; rerun) - Anyone who’s interested in film history, not just queer history, should see this documentary based on the book of the same title by Vito Russo. Both the book and the film detail Hollywood from the Silent era on through the first films in the '80s that presented a positive queer point of view. The film discusses how the "anti-obscenity" Motion Picture Production Code of 1930 drove queer themes underground and created a lasting legacy of cinematic invisibility at best and films filled with violent homophobia at worst. Really great interviews with Susan Sarandon in particular, as well as Tony Curtis, Arthur Laurents, Harvey Fierstein and more. Narrated by the amazing Lily Tomlin.



Word Play **** (2006) – highly enjoyable documentary on the mighty crossword puzzle: the people who create them and the people who go slightly mad solving them.

John Stewart rocks the crossweird.

Before Stonewall **** (1984) – pioneering documentary about LGBT political and cultural history for the decades preceding the Stonewall Riots, the explosive starting point of the contemporary Gay Liberation Movement. Wonderful interview footage of Harry Hay, Audre Lorde, Allen Ginsberg, and many more movers of GLBT liberation.

Jesus Camp ***1/2 (2006) – after seeing this film, discussing it with friends, and reading a decent amount of commentary about it, I'm still perplexed by it. The film's images and scenarios, played out candidly by avidly churchy children (whose beliefs seem dangerously concrete) still chill me, months after seeing it (earnest tears as they pledge allegiance to god's army, for example). What's most disturbing about it is the hands-off style of filmmaking, allowing the point of view of the filmmakers to be left ambiguous, with the exception of footage of an ex-right wing radio commentator given the floor periodically during the film's run. One of the most thoughtful reviews of the movie I've seen comes from David Byrne's blog. Have a look.

The U.S. Vs. John Lennon *** (2006) – Doc about John Lennon's anti-war and civil rights activism, primarily centered around his battle with the INS over deportation after marijuana possession charges in the early '70s. I found it enjoyable but not very enlightening, full of great personal footage and interviews but lacking in depth about much, be it his activism or his turbulent personal struggles. The editor at Ebert's page hits it on the head.

After Stonewall *** (1999) – the follow up to Before Stonewall. Worth seeing, as it documents the GLBT rights movement post Gay-Lib and focuses on the impact of AIDS/HIV on the community. Not nearly as well made or memorable as the first film.

Sigmund Freud: Analysis of a Mind ** A&E "Biography" episode about Freud's life and major works, which is overall not terribly revealing and remains theoretically very shallow. The only interesting footage comes in the two interviews with Freud's grandchildren. When dealing with one of the largest personalities of the 20th Century, and particularly with Freud, the ultimate narcissist, it is truly moving to hear a grandson's recollection of his grandfather's jaw cancer, and how Freud was in so much pain from his illness and some 30 surgeries that after a point, his lap just wasn't for sitting upon anymore.

Siggy in his 30s

Narrative Films on DVD

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Punch Drunk Love **** (2002; rerun) – it took this second viewing of the movie to make me realize that it's possibly one of my all-time favorites. If you've never seen an Adam Sandler flick you've liked (and I wouldn't blame you), remember that this is not an "Adam Sandler movie" – it's a P.T. Anderson masterpiece.

The Big Lebowski **** (1998; rerun) - I’m finally beginning to understand the brilliance of this movie. It's also amazing to think about the breadth of the work of Joel and Ethan Cohen as filmmakers – that they are capable of such searing pop culture satire and also such rich dramatic tension, and that most of their movies contain strong elements of both, so that you can't put any of their films into one box or another.

A Scanner Darkly **** (2006) – I've never read Phillip K. Dick's novel, so I can't compare it here, but the animated film by Richard Linklater works beautifully. I was skeptical about Scanner at first, because I felt his earlier attempt at an animated feature, Waking Life, to be a long-winded regurgitation of the philosophical musings of the far superior Slacker.

And while I love Slacker, A Scanner Darkly accomplishes something that none of Linklater's films have before: its eerie emotional resonance lingers after viewing. It's not unlike the feeling of frantically scratching to rid oneself from the itch of the hallucinatory bugs of substance withdrawal, álà the movie's first sequence. This owes to the rich source material for the film, which expands Linklater beyond his usual micro personal milieu.

Stranger Than Fiction ***1/2 (2006) – I liked this Will Ferrell/Maggie Gyllenhaal flick a mite better than I thought I would. If you liked the thematically similar The Truman Show and the similar fiction-writing milieu of Adaptation, give this one a go. I'd say it's almost on par with the former, not as literary as the latter, and overall, a bit less challenging and neater/tidier than either.



The Princess Bride ***1/2 (1987; rerun) – I had only seen it once back in the day, and I decided to pop it in recently, since Astrid owns the disc. It holds up, for sure, especially the fantastic chemistry between Inigo Montoya (I had no idea that was Mandy Patinkin!) and Fezzik (Andre the Giant). There's a lot of snoozy parts, but certainly it's worth seeing again if it's been fifteen or twenty years since your last viewing. The one-liners alone ("…Anybody want a peanut?" "Have fun storming the castle!" et al) are quite satisfying when taken out of the popcultural ether and put back in the context of the movie.

Volver ***½ (2006) – It's wonderful to see a solid film about the emotional lives of women. But I felt similarly about The Hours: instead of "solid," or "very good," it'd be nice to see an excellent one for a change. And ah, those whimsical farting ghosts…

Conversation(s) with Other Women *** (2005) – I liked this talky film with Helena Bonham Carter and Aaron Eckhart. The performances were great, but the writing, and thus the emotion, fell flat often. The entire movie is rendered in split screen, and while distracting at times, this device was used to good effect to convey the different POVs of the two characters, as well as visually to invoke the possibilities of the past and future.

Primer *** (2004) Really fascinating and disturbing movie. I was left with two distinct feelings at the end: I was moved, and yet I didn't know what the fuck had happened. Here's some guy's understanding of the timeline of the movie, which considers both on-screen action and off-screen events that influence the plot.

The Science of Sleep *** (2006) – an imaginative romp and a pretty film to look at, with pretty leads (Gael Garcia Bernal and Charlotte Gainsbourg) to boot, but ultimately a film more memorable for its crafty visual effects than the somnambulant solipsism of its story.

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home *** (2006) The members of the Enterprise prevent the destruction of Earth by going back in time to save the humpback whales. Campy hilarity ensues.

Quinceañera *** (2006) A 15 year old Latina and her family deal with a mysterious pregnancy and the struggle to live amid the gentrification in their LA neighborhood. Good performances and a promising story, but the narrative could have used some significant changes. Jesse Garcia and Emily Rios in Quinceañera

Shortbus **1/2 (2006) - both better than I expected it to be, and not as good as I wanted it to be. Lots of sex – woot! Pretentious people – woot! A couple of the subplots are interesting and realistically portrayed, but this is a pretty disappointing follow-up to Hedwig.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer ** (1992) - the original movie that spawned the far superior TV show. The premise, of course, is fantastic: an airhead cheerleader at a Los Angeles high school learns her destiny as the Vampire Slayer. The execution, however, save for bits of campy goodness, stinks. How in sam hell did they get Donald Sutherland to be in this piece of shit movie?

Singles **1/2 (1992) – I'd never seen it before, if you can believe it. It was not as good as I thought it would be, and I don't have an explanation as to why I thought it'd be good. Campbell Scott is always good. Matt Dillon was pretty good. I kind of wished that Bridget Fonda's character had been played by Parker Posey instead; maybe then I'da given the flick three whole stars.

Love and Death **1/2 (1975) – by far not my favorite Woody Allen movie. (Can you tell I'm kind of tired of writing reviews now?)

Dead Silence * (2007) – you can't ask for much from a possessed dummy movie, though it was great fun watching it with a group of ornery folks while DJ pointed out the holes in the plot.

"Beware the stare of Mary Shaw, she has no children, only dolls," the inane refrain refrains.

Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan ** (2006) – for a good summary of my thoughts, see a review of this overrated piece of crap.

Star Trek V: The Final Frontier * The one with the super-cheesy "God"-creature floating around in the deepest reaches of space, beyond the "Great Barrier." This is where my commitment to the Star Trek movies ends.

The Playlist

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In which I talk about the new (which is sometimes quite old) music in my life!

Sloan: Never Hear the End of It **** (2006)

I've been totally obsessed with this album for months, with its 30 songs worth of catchy, rollicking good tunes. All four band members (Chris Murphy, Jay Ferguson, Patrick Pentland, and Andrew Scott) contributed tracks, each with his unique flavor. With this record, Sloan runs the gamut from memorable Beatlesesque ditties to moody, airy tracks álà Grandaddy, and never loses their particular combo-punch of clever indie plus good old fashioned guitar crunch rock 'n' roll. What's best about this album is that the tuneful ballads, blasts of hard core, and quirky psychedelia all flow together beautifully with seamless track mixing and careful balancing of each of the songwriter's numbers.

The Mountain Goats: Get Lonely **** (2006) – I would say of the two Mountain Goats albums I acquired in 2007, Get Lonely just slightly edges out The Sunset Tree, with its subtle, small songs about love lost and losing yourself in the face of it. Several of the songs on the album make me cry routinely, like this one:



The Mountain Goats: The Sunset Tree **** (2005) – Like all of John Darnielle's lyrics, these are utterly earnest without losing their affecting emotionality. "This Year" might be one of my top 5 favorite songs of all time.

The Kinks: The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society **** (1968)

- an album I've been meaning to get for a few years now, as it's been referred to as influential to some acts I really like (Belle and Sebastian and Elliott Smith to name a couple.) Underrated and subdued, it's not the proto- punk of "You Really Got Me" but the reflective nostalgia of the Kink's middle period, with an oft-debated reverence/ironic sarcasm toward simpler times that may or may not have ever existed.

Chumbawamba: Shhh! ***½ (1992) – For the folks out there who have never heard any Chumbawamba besides the dangerously catchy/annoying 1997 single "Tubthumping", it's worth checking out this earlier release which captures more of the spirit of the band.

Despite "Tubthumping's" massive commercial success, the band of lefty anarcho-punk d.i.y.ers, needless to say, have a range and stylings that are much broader and more interesting (i.e. punk, pop, folk, labor songs, dub, hip hop, gospel) showcased playfully on this ode against artist censorship.

King Crimson: In the Court of the Crimson King – An Observation by King Crimson (1969) ***



- I have a passing interest in prog rock, and more than a passing interest in the sociomusical influence of prog on newer forms of music and on pop culture. I'm fascinated, for example, with the prog rock family tree that so many major bands in the '70s and '80s have been connected to. Greg Lake, for example, was one of the original members of King Crimson, and then went on to form Emerson, Lake & Palmer, and then played with the prog supergroup Asia. Anyway, yeah, I'm a rock triv dork.

So this album, the first effort from King Crimson's off and on career that spans nearly 40-years, is considered one of the first progressive albums and possibly the first symphonic rock album, and is a mélange of jazz improv, classical, and acid rock. It's really more a bridge between the Beatles' Mystery Tour era and the later music which would become the "true" prog rock, including many of their own later releases. Track four, "Moonchild Including the Dream and the Illusion," bears more resemblance to experimental jazz than the sweeping tempo changes and rhythmic juxtapositions of progressive rock. Taken out of its natural habitat, a marijuana smoke-filled basement in 1970, say, it's more novelty amusement than epiphany-inducing. Yet the subtle classically-inspired guitar string manipulations and the peaceful encroachment of the mellotron become quite captivating by this point in the album. This early record is not on the whole a good match to my personal musical tastes, but I think I'll be giving King Crimson's later work a go at some point, particularly the Adrian Belew era that has more new wave/Talking-Headsy/proto-electronic stylings.

Billy Bragg: Talking with the Taxman about Poetry *** (1986)

- Billy Bragg's third album represents a shift toward more singable folk-pop, with all the lefty political spirit still intact. In fact, even as he has moved on to much more generously produced music, he's never compromised the politics, the homage to the labor movement, and the grit of his early days. Check out "Greetings to the New Brunette," the standout (and most accessible) track, for a taste of Billy's brand of spirited folksy-rocky-political-

love song. If you want to start with something a bit more contemporary than this often straight-up leftist fight song collection, check out his later release with Wilco, Mermaid Avenue, for which the songsmith was hired by the estate of Woody Guthrie to put the legendary folkie's unpublished manuscripts to music. The results are gorgeous.

Live Shows

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Mountain Goats at The Independent 3/7 ***** - Darnielle conveys so much spirit and joy, even when he's singing the most heartbreaking songs. I think if I were a rock star, this is what I'd aspire to: writing songs with meaning; performing them with utmost relish; being low-key enough to publish my photos on flickr.

Sunset Rubdown at The Independent 10/21 ***** - showing up on time really improves the concert experience. One of the best live shows I've ever seen, and this with lead brainchild Spencer Krug feeling a bit under the weather.



The chaotic sound scrapes, evocative vocals, and Spencer's sweat dripping onto the keyboard: concert-going bliss.

Photo of Spencer at the show compliments of The Undertoad.

Sloan at the Independent 4/30 ***1/2 - this would've been a four-star review, 'cause Sloan is always fantastic in concert, but this time they made the audience squirm through about a half-dozen songs with Andrew on lead vocals, and while the guy is a great drummer and a competent songwriter…HE. CANNOT. SING. The songs he wrote and performed on Never Hear the End of It are catchy and short, and his voice in-studio is mixed down enough that it can actually sound decent. Live, he can't keep a tune, really. So anyway, minus Andrew's songs, Sloan rocked the fuck out at the Independent.

They Might Be Giants at The Fillmore 9/30 **** I blogged about this show here.

Indigo Girls at the Power to the Peaceful concert, Golden Gate Park 9/8 ***½



Photo of Indigo Girls compliments of indigospike.

- Back in the day, I was the 1991 cliché of a dyke. I wore tie dyed shirts and Birkenstocks, couldn't go a day without wearing the freedom rings, and listened to the Indigo Girls obsessively. I hadn't seen them live in many years, and it took Iris visiting from Guatemala to get me to go this time around. Her sister-in-law is a complete Indigo Girls freak, and staked out her territory, stage side, starting at 6:00 am that day (loathe to be the random dreadlocked girl to step onto Shirley's tarp!) Sporting proper amounts of hipper-than-thou irony, Iris and I descended into the sage-clouded crowd and ended up pretty blown away. Emily and Amy still know how to fucking rock. Their performance of the Buffy Sainte-Marie cover, "Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee" was as moving this time around, maybe more so, than when I saw them perform it more than a decade ago.

Pinback at Bimbo's 10/27 *** - the band wasn't in top form this time 'round – Zach's voice was just off, cracking like a 13 year old boy's. His guitar playing, as usual, was sublime. Rob held his own, and the instrumentation was trance-inducing, in a really good way.

Sunset Rubdown at the Bottom of the Hill (no rating) 4/22 – this one barely counts, ‘cause Astrid, DJ, and I got there so late we only got to see three songs. They were opening for a really pretentious noise band called Xiu Xiu. Thank god we got to see 'em again later in the year.

On to my 2008 Wrap. Erm, I mean my thesis…

xxoo
Bree