Quodlibets

Film v. Book

Lately I've been thinking a lot about the question of film v. book, partly because I work with films every day, and realize that I'll only really watch the tiniest fraction of them.  And also partly because I just finished a very odd (I thought) history of Hollywood, The Whole Equation.  I didn't NOT like the book, but I didn't like it exactly.  Anyway, that's not really the point.  The point is, I like reading about film more than I enjoy seeing films.  Most of the films I read about, I've never seen.  In fact, I'd be very surprised if I've seen more than one or two of the films Thomson mentions, and at least one of those is Star Wars.

I'm not a film person.  I enjoy the odd film here or there, but I feel no drive to really go to the movies, even if I know there are films out that I badly want to see.  Or, rather, I think I want to see them, but then I live without seeing them for a while, and I discover that I've lived so far so good without them and anh....I did go through a period in college where it seemed like I was watching a movie a day, but that was rented and bought VHS tapes, and not in movie theaters.  Still, it was a very communal experience, in a way that reading a book wasn't.  (My pleasure reading dropped to near zilch during college, too.)  I think I craved that for those years in my life.

Thomson postulates that part of the novelty of movies was the communal aspect, especially in the early days.  People were sharing this experience with a roomful of strangers, and that made it new and also seductive.  Books have never provided that sort of immediacy, even if you join a book club and talk about what you're reading.  Books are very solitary pursuits, designed to be viewed, read, experienced one-on-one, person to medium.  Films, obviously, are incredibly different.  Films are of course designed to be viewed multple to one, persons to medium.  Part of the pleasure of a movie is knownig that every single person in a theater is seeing exactly what you are seeing.

So here is the question:  why do I prefer books?  S loves film, and in fact saw one film a week for a long time, until the little band of people he was seeing films with had a falling-out.  And then he began seeing me, and I simply have no interest in regular film-going, and furthermore, if I was interested in seeing a film a week, I would rarely, if ever, want to see the same films.  (This is a tangent, but one thing I never do is go to see a film with a group of people if I have no interest in the film.  I've gone to bars and to parties and restaurants that I have little or no interest in simply to be social, but I've always been able to say no to movies.  Also, another offshoot of this is that I have never minded going to see movies alone.  Perhaps because there are always other people there with you, having the same sort of experience.  Nevertheless, it's NEVER bothered me, and when I was doing the library school thing, I actually did spend some of my day-time down-time seeing movies S would never go see.)  We have very opposite film tastes, which makes it hard for us to agree on what to see.  We have completely different priorities.  For instance, if I were to go to a movie tonight, I'd prefer to see something romantic, or indie, or documentary.  Possibly An Inconvenient Truth.  S?  He wants to see Superman Returns.  We are incompatible, movie-wise.

I've been trying to figure out if my reticence to see films is based on some sort of solitary longing, but I think I can shoot holes in that theory very easily.  My sister, for instance, is a far more solitary person than I am.  I almost need to have people around (even if I plan on sticking my head in a book) and Kate, well, Kate seems very comfortable being alone.  I envy it sometimes.  Nevertheless, she sees FAR more movies than I do.  She watches movies on a near constant basis, or so it seems to me.  So I don't think it's necessarily my solitary nature. 

I considered that it might be a desire to control the action.  Films unroll as they will.  Action happens in a proscribed order and at its own pace.  Certainly not books, which you can read as fast as you can, and finish in a day, if you love it so much.  You're more in control of how you take in the material.  But I'm not sure it's that, either.  Because I enjoy TV very much, and that's out of your control, and I enjoy audiobooks, which can only go as fast as the reader.  So perhaps it's not a control freak thing.

I simply don't know.  Everything about me points to the conclusion that I should heartily enjoy both movie-going and movie-watching at home.  I love pop culture, I love to be shown new things.  I love good stories, I love going out and doing stuff.  But I don't love movies, and I'm thinking that I never really will.  After all, I read during movies that we watch at home, unless I can get S to come and watch with me.  I just can't sit at home engrossed in a movie.  It doesn't work.  Weird, huh?

This Meme will Bore you to Death

Hence, do not feel as if you must read it all.  I think I'm mostly doing it for my own edification.  And from far away, it looks like I'm actually doing work, which is a bonus.

After the jump.

Never flying Spirit again

Well, this is sick.  It appears to be real, which makes it even worse than sick.  You know, I understand that people with a lot of money like to donate money to politicians.  I know it's happened with some of my more favorite stores and online retailers.  I make decisions to buy accordingly, at times.  Other times, despite being disgusted, I keep shopping somewhere.

I have to say, the Spirit ad, though, seems worse somehow.  Then again, maybe it's better, as the company's biases are all in the open.  Either way, I'm not flying Spirit again, and that's not an idle threat, or one that means nothing, as I have flown Spirit in the past few years, and am considering another Florida trip at some point in the future.  But nevermind, I'd rather pay more money than support a company that puts out ads like that.

In the interest of providing the full story

I thought I'd provide a little informational update re: the move.  We finally have hot water and water pressure, which means I no longer run to my sister's to shower.  It's nice to finally feel like we're actually at home, rather than living in a place that's a nightmare.  It feels really good. 

Furthermore, S has aquired a job.  He's working at the store that he wanted to transfer into, which is pretty much a minor miracle.  Between him being persistent, and the GM wanting him, and knowing a supervisor in the store, things have worked out.  Thank god.  He's working a fairly short bus-ride from home.  His schedule isn't the greatest, but it's not the worst, either.  I think we'll/he'll survive.  I'm not saying he won't look for a new job, but at least he's pulling in some money while he's looking.

I'm thinking that I'm going to love living in the city.  To be honest, I'm thinking I love it already.  There are good things and bad things, but those bad things seem to shrink in the face of all the good things.  I'm not going to say that I'm sold on the city forever, but I certainly don't want to think about being back in the suburbs any time soon.  I wish I could say that living in Chicago was similar to living in Rome, but it's not really.  I've got this disease where Rome seems enchanted, and no amount of city love can make Chicago quite appear that desirable.  Still, it's a step up from where we were before, and a step down from where we really want to be.  And we may never get to where we want to be, so this is gonna have to be okay, at least for a little while.

Lastly, and just for fun, check out the menu for this restaurant, Shopsin's.  I'd read Calvin Trillin's piece about it; I think it was in one of his food essay collections, and I have read all of those.  I didn't know there was a documentary about the place, but I've eagerly added it to my Netflix queue.  I don't know that I'd ever make it to Shopsin's, even if I end up in NY again for a little vacay, but I imagine that it'd be quite a trip, if I ever did.  (via Kottke.)

Friends and Endings

So it's no secret that I'm really interested in women and friendships.  Obviously, as my last entry proved.  But S and I went to dinner with a friend (who needs to blog more!) who knows intimately all about the situation I was talking about yesterday, and we talked some more about the situation, and my feelings about it.  Of course, that just made me think more about the whole subject; when we finally got home (LONG wait for the bus), I saw the comment from M, which prompted a reply, which in turn caused me to think even harder about the whole thing.

Something that I said in my email to M is that I've never had a conversation with another woman (besides my sister, who doesn't count, because I pretty much would talk about anything with Kate and really actually probably do) about the ending of our friendships.  I've sure as hell had conversations with other women about break-ups (from romantic relationships), and I've listened to friends lament and moan and worry about those break-ups.  But I've never really had to sit down with a woman and comfort her on the loss of a friend.  And I've never really turned to another woman and asked for comfort about the loss of a friend.  And I've never gotten past the emotions, either, and had a serious conversation about the psychology of losing friends, about the devastation it can bring, and about how to deal with it.  Whereas I've had those conversations when they deal with romances. 

And this subject is hard, for me, as a feminist, and I know that sounds strange, but if the personal is political, then the subject of women freezing out other women, ending friendships with other women falls into the category of feminism, at least for me.  I've always been a strong believer that part of being a feminist is nurturing your own relationships with other women, and developing strong bonds with other women.  If you seek to sever those bonds, or have them severed on you (and I'm obviously aware that the friendship I'm the most saddened about losing is with a man, but whatever.  I've also lost women friends, I've also severed friendships with other women.), it is a direct counterpoint to the idea of nurturing those female relationships that you feel so strongly about.   But I also think that there is such a thing as "growing apart", and there are times when a friendship simply cannot stand on two legs anymore.  Relationships seem to naturally ebb and flow, and sometimes cease completely.  With women as well as with men.  Friendships are not exempt from this.

And in fact, I believe that society is teaching us very strange lessons about being women, and having lovers and friends.  We are taught that our primary relationship will be with a man--hence the subversive, offensive nature of lesbianism to society--and that our female friendships are secondary.  Thus, when a friendship ends between two women, it's not a big deal.  As long as we are in a loving, straight relationship, we are square in the eyes of society.  We are okay.  But the disruption of the loss of a friend is more than just something to be shrugged off, as I've said time and again.  It's hard to express this in a way that makes sense, but my love for my friends, in some ways, is not different from the way I love S.  These people may fill different little niches in my heart, but they are in there nonetheless, and you can't rip something out of there without hurting that heart.

We're all aware, of course, of the idea of the woman who ditches her friends for her new boyfriend.  We've all either had a friend like that, or been that woman.  Why do you think that happens?  Because socially, that man is more important to the woman than those friends she's had for possibly many years.  It's a fucked-up system of priority.  Of course, it's important to develop some intimacy, intimacy that might grow and blossom, with someone you think might be a romantic partner.  But not at the expense of the people you love already.  It's a particularly sad way that society has broken down bonds between women, and sought to make women less strong and more dependent on men.  And you know, there are exceptions.  Things are slowly changing.  But I'd say that we've got a long way to go still.

One last thing.  What I've been talking about, in some ways, is pain.  The pain of losing someone dear to you.  Do you think the heart understands the difference between losing one "brand" of love, but not another?  I don't.  I think pain doesn't depend on what type of love it was, but the duration of the relationship, the strength of the love.  You can love your friends harder and deeper than you might love a boyfriend.  Than you might love a lover, a husband.  I do believe that.  (That's not to diminish my love for S in any way.  Part of the reason I love him so intensely is that we were friends long before we started something.)  Pain doesn't follow rules, as love doesn't.  But we naturally have always assumed that losing a friend isn't something that causes deep emotional pain and scars. 

Oh, I beg to differ.  I am proof that it does.

By Post

I wrote a letter (and sent it) to one of the dearest friends I have ever had today.  I wrote it because he is no longer one of my friends, and I cannot think of him, and the situation, without crying, without feeling bereft.  Without feeling alone.  Weeks can go by with nary a thought of him, and then boom, I am thinking of him again and I am feeling that old wound like it is a new one, inflicted just moments before.  I wrote the letter as some sort of mental shake for myself, to just LET GO of the whole thing, to recognize and accept the end of the friendship.

It's melodramatic (but when am I not?), but it's a very fraught situation for me, because I was simply not ready for the friendship to end, and it's demise is untimely, and too soon.  I have done a good deal of reading recently on the subject of women's friendships ending, most recently "What Did I Do Wrong?" and in doing this reading, attempting to figure out my own friendships that have ended--that are ending.  I haven't come to any conclusions but that it always, always hurts, and that we are in no way taught, or conditioned to accept female "break-ups".  That when they happen, it isn't sanctioned for us to get depressed and sit on the couch and cry, even though those friendships that end are sometimes longer and more enduring than our romantic entanglements.  There is no way for us to grieve outwardly.  We're supposed to shake it off, let it go, and move on.  Easy, with no grief.

It, of course, doesn't happen that way in real life.  I am moving through a process that is tricky to navigate.  The letter I've written is one way to keep that process going.  To be done.  (I may post the letter, in its entirety, at a later date, when I think the recipient has gotten it.)

Why This Blog Has (semi) Ceased to Exist

I'm exhausted.  There's something about commuting and living in the city that's tiring, especially when you consider the nightly trek to my sister's to shower.  Add to that our zeal to do things, to master the buses and see old friends, and you've got a recipe for braindeath.  I'm sure this will all change at some point--there won't be so many loose ends to tie up, won't be so much going on on a nightly basis, but right now....I can only write lame, boring things, and so I just don't write.

I'm sure I'll have something to say at some point.  I'll be back when I do.

I. Am. Unhappy.

We STILL can't get hot water at most times in the day.  And if the water does warm up at all, it's to a barely tolerable lukewarm.

I'm getting to the edge of my patience here.  This is unacceptable.  Not to be able to take a hot shower in your own apartment?  That's just bad news.  For the second time in a week, I'm going over to my sister's for a damn shower.  This makes me VERY sad and miserable.

Life here would be great if it weren't for the massive plumbing problems.  'Cause you know, not being able to get clean is pretty much an unliveable situation.  I can't go to my sister's every damn night.

An Unscientific Poll

Cnn.com always posts a few "unscientific" polls--one on the main page, and one on the entertainment page--and I almost always do them, even if they're usually worded so inanely as to be rendered useless.

This morning (but no longer), the polls were about fat and Hollywood (and maybe yesterday's Entertainment poll too).  On the main page, the poll was whether "you" like your male stars slightly flabby or with six-pack abs (like there isn't an in-between); the poll on the entertainment page was somewhat similar, asking if you preferred super-thin or slightly flabby.  In both polls, slightly flabby was leading; in the entertainment poll, it had 70% of the vote.

Now, if this is really the case--if the majority of people really do prefer people who aren't sickly thin--then why are so many women stars absolutely disgustingly thin?  And I'm not saying that in a "I'm jealous, you're so disgusting (perfect)" sort of a way.  No, I mean that these women look unhealthy and scary and actually gross.  But the question is, where does that pressure come from?  Is it the attention?  Because Nicole Richie certainly gets more attention now that she's ill than when she was just a normal girl with some bad hair and questionable fashion sense.  Even if the attention is more negative these days.  And I've seen Kate Bosworth on no fewer than three fashion websites and in MULTIPLE magazines for her bad fashion sense, and her sickly skinny body. 

All I can think when I see these pictures is that these girls are STARVED for something--love, attention, food--and they're not getting what they need.  They need people to tell them to eat, and to eat more than 800 calories a day.  These girls need to be fed big bowls of fettucine alfredo, and heaping plates of nachos.  They need to drink beer and eat pretzels and chips and big sub sandwiches. 

I'm seriously not sure where the pressure to be THAT thin comes from.  America likes thin, sure.  I am 100% aware of that, being the not-thin that America doesn't like.  But I really do think that the CNN polls are onto something, in that the majority of American men and women don't want to be with someone who a) looks ill and b) won't go out to the neighborhood restaurant and eat with them.  I think that when everyday folks daydream about being with stars, they're not daydreaming about the anorexic girls and scary-buff men.  They're daydreaming about thin (yes, of course) women like Cindy Crawford or nice-looking men like Jude Law or George Clooney.  I mean, let's face it, George Clooney doesn't have a six-pack.  And that's nice, that's fine.  Cindy Crawford was never heavy--but she never looked ill either.

Perhaps, as it is, in my opinion, only a look that anorexia could produce, simply the biggest reason for anorexia: there is much in these women's lives that they cannot control--paparazzi, men, the industry--and the one thing they can control is how much they eat.  And we pay attention to them for this.  We oooh and ahhh in the beginning stages of the weight-loss (Richie, of course) and then turn our ooohs and ahhs to sad clucks and moans (here I am doing it, though I never did the first) when the girls start to look sick, and scary.  Would it stop if we stopped?

Things I Like and Things I Don't Like

Our building is in the midst of a plumbing upgrade.  Hence the no running water on the day of the move, and the fact that S had no water yesterday, and will have none today.  Last week, the plumbing upgrade only caused a few problems--one faucet had so much sediment build-up it wouldn't work, the shower pressure is laughable, the water was brown and filled with black sediment for a few minutes after the faucet was started--but this week, things have gone from unpleasant to downright unacceptable.  Yes, friends, there was no hot water this morning.  And I let it RUN and run and run.  I finally decided I could take a cold shower, stepped into the shower and put my leg in it and decided, no, no I could not stick my head voluntarily under that cold water.

Hence, I am unshowered.  Unshowered and miserable.  I did get to work insanely early, but that's because I left the house WAY before I normally would have.  And I would have rather gotten here later in exchange for a hot shower.  Boy would I.  I'd heard other people complaining about the lack of hot water to the building engineer, but we didn't have that problem, so I figured it was a localized problem.  I don't think so anymore.  If the water isn't getting hot after work today, I'm afraid I'll be calling my sister and asking if I can come shower at her place.  I can't go two days without a shower, and if it's not hot later, there's no guarantee it'll be hot tomorrow.  I figure we should give the building time to do their upgrade, and complain after that.  If the upgrade doesn't help, we'll be putting in work orders until the situation is fixed.  People need to wash.  I mean, I'd even take lukewarm water.  But cold, no.  Cold water is bad. 

On a more positive note, I've already grown to love the fog-shrouded view of the city I get when I'm driving down Lake Shore.  It's not the Loop, just residential buildings with the big city in the background, but it makes me happy.  It makes me feel full somehow, and gives me enough to get through the commute.  And I love coming home to the city.  A long commute in the afternoon is okay, because I know when I get home, I'll be in the city.  People told me that I would love it, and I wasn't sure, but I'm pretty sure now.  I like our apartment (water issues and all--though if the hot water doesn't come on soon, I reserve the right to change that opinion), I like the park across the street, and the city behind us.  I like knowing that I'm five minutes from good stuff.  I like walking to the drug store and grocery store.  I like it.  I like it all.