Dil Chahte Hai--good production values, and good sound quality. Live sound really makes a difference. It gets a little muddy at times, but sounds much more natural than most dubbing jobs. Falls into the Bollywood musical genre, but if you cut the singing and dancing, the movie would still hang together. I can completely relate to the "college friends negotiating life in the real world together and apart" theme. All three story arcs are strong, and when I re-watch this movie, I tend to watch them one at a time. Continuity between the chapters it good. I liked all the songs enough to eventually buy the soundtrack. And wow, that dress that Shalini (Preity Zinta) wears to the opera is beautiful. My favorite character (besides Sid) is Mahesh Uncle (Shalini's uncle). I think he was very funny after the movie, bouncing back and forth between agreeing with Akash and agreeing with Shalini. And near the end of that story arc, there is a big dramatic scene in which Shalini's (adopted) father is saying, "You must pay us back, Shalini! And this is how you must do it!" The father makes his dramatic announcement, everyone is stunned and (happily) crying, and in the background, Uncle Mahesh is making this "Well, whaddaya know!" face. Was that scripted? It was very funny. This is the movie to show your American friends if you want them to like Bollywood. After they are all relaxed by this one, you can hit them over the head with something more melodramatic (and dubbed).

Kal Ho Naa Ho--also good to get your American friends hooked. Shahrukh Khan, so good with the tears and Mama loyalty. It has its cheesy moments (like, where the hell did that American flag come from outside Naina's house? And why is Naina living in such a nice house if they can't even afford to keep the business running? One wonders.) and definitely has some problematic stereotypes. The Gujarati jokes were lame. On the other hand, the remark about vegetarians? Funny because it's so true. I don't know, Shahrukh and Saif Ali make such cute boys together, so I think the maid should relax. And really, how does a beautiful woman become unattractive just by putting on glasses? To make Preity Zinta unattractive, you couldn't just take away her make-up artists, hairstylists and wardrobe crew. You'd have to take away her soap, shampoo, hair brush and detergent. Maybe after life on the streets for a couple of months without a shower, you could consider her unattractive. There are a lot of things to love about this movie, only some of which the producers intended. I love the use of the color orange in the first song, the way its picked up from Aman's pants and deployed in different costumes. It's also the base of the moving graffiti sign at the end of the song. I love that Rohit falls in love and turns into a complete metrosexual. How many guys do you know that think, "I love Naina! Now I will get a manicure!" I love the engagement party clothes. I love the title song. I love that someone has to stand off camera and make it look like two daisies are having sex during "Kuch to hua hai." I love it that the subtitles tell us that "Chicken is just one dollar" when Naina and Shiv are arguing at the breakfast table. I also love it that they later let us know that Naina is "a nice little boy." I love it that no one seems to know that a Baptist choir could not sing "Amen!" at a Catholic church. I love it that while Naina and Jennifer(ben) are getting all emotional and crying all over each other, Aman is standing behind them doing a Starbucks commercial. I love it that Naina turns to her mom and very clearly tells her that she loves her during the engagement dance. I love it that Preity Zinta completely blows one of the "chay din laRki in" scenes by reacting to SRK's voice when she shouldn't have been able to hear it over the headset. There are many things to love, and they outweigh the list of things I could type about things to hate (namely, why does Jennifer Kapoor [damn, is it Kapur?] not know enough to run her own damn business? Is she an idiot?).

Ek Hasina Thi--I swear to god, 1/2 of India got shot in the head during this movie. And I think Saif Ali Khan is following me around and I am tired of seeing him. No Bollywood dancing or singing, just a lot of bloodshed. Definitely not my kind of movie, too violent, but I was so taken by Urmila Matondkar that I couldn't stop watching. Great performance. The plotline at the beginning was forced (is anyone that naive?), and also, I don't like seeing people's bones broken. Oh, and also, Urmila Matondkar reminds me a little bit of Cher, only she handles a gun better. There was a spot at the end of the movie where she took my breath away with one flick of the wrist. Very nice.

The Hero: Love Story of a Spy--Blah. You know it's bad when I don't even want to wait through the first part of the movie to see Preity Zinta. I read a review early on that said that every time her character left the screen, the energy died, and that was so true. The India v. Pakistan theme was really horrible, and after 10 seconds, I was done. Also, the dubbing was horrible, especially right at the beginning. And the hero's disguises looked like they'd been put together by a third grader. I stopped watching after the first guy got shot through the head. After Ek Hasina Thi, I wasn't going to sit through any more blood spatters. It took me two more tries to force myself through the movie. It was fantastic that they made Preity Zinta carry a lamb around on her back for 1/4 of the movie. What was she thinking when she read the script: "How sweet! The weight of living animal on my back in an uncomfortable basket for hours on end! Oh, fab, it gets to sit on my ribcage while I'm daydreaming!" I hope she got paid a lot to do this movie. The little kid in the road at the beginning of the first song was cute.

Hum Tum--Ah, cute. You have to hand it to Saif Ali Khan. He's way over-exposed, but he still manages to entertain. He's good at the cute but utterly self-absorbed roles, and I thought the "It's my Tom Cruise haircut. Tom Cruise! You know, Tom Cruise! It's fashion!" bit was funny. Rani Mukherjee graduates from being Priya or Puja to Rhea, it must have been a thrill for her to be called by a new name. Still, she's beautiful, and hey, I'd like to slap Saif, too. Not a demanding movie, and I never really felt Rhea's pain, but hey, no one got shot, so that's fine with me.

Aarzoo--I swear, I'm not after Saif at all. He just shows up everywhere. This movie was kind of typical Bollywood--someone gets shot right away, there's lots of fighting, the guy is a total jerk but the woman still loves him, there's some singing, the other guy loves the girl so much he stands back so the jerk can have her, and then there's more shooting. Amrish Puri was the industrialist father. How in god's name does he find the time to be in so many movies? Anyway, I give this movie a pass even though I think Reema Lagoo is pretty.

Kya Kehna--Although technically flawed (the sound isn't great, the subtitles disappear at inconvenient times, the hero goes through seven haircuts in seven days), this might be one of my favorite Bollywood movies. Everyone should have such a family, I say. Also, everyone should have such a vehicle to launch their acting careers. Who gets the starring role in their first (although second released) movie? The first song didn't grab me, but the title song was pretty. I know Rahul is an absolute cad, and I didn't even buy his repentance scence, but really, could you resist Priya? Probably not. I liked Preity a lot more before she got so damned polished (before her teeth were capped, eh?) What I actually liked about this movie was its undercurrent of emotional truth. When I was that age, several of my classmates found themselves unwed and pregnant. What I wish now is that I had been a better friend. This movie gives me a stab of guilt, and I guess I like that.

Kabhi Kushi, Kahbie Gham--Don't ask me about the spelling on that, I can't explain it. I admit, I watched this just because I think Jaya Bachchan/Badhuri is hot. Yeah, Preity, you're fine and all that, but you're way too young for me. I wish I could see Dr. Mukhta but I can't find a copy. I wish I could say I liked this movie, but I can't. How did the Big B's character end up being all noble in the end, as if he wasn't the one that made Shahrukh Khan leave the family? One funny thing. Last Friday, we played "Win, Lose or Draw" in Hindi class (because apparently that's what they do in college these days) and one kid got up and drew a guy w/huge biceps. The entire class called out una voce "Hrithik Roshan! Hrithik Roshan!" Let's face it, his biceps are a little overwhelming. Turns out the kid was trying to draw Shahrukh Khan. He obviously needs drawing lessons.

Koi...Mil Gaya--Oh.my.god. I don't even know what to say about this. E.T. meets Close Encounters of the Third Kind: The Musical. All I can think to say is, this is such a cute movie that I'm also embarrassed to admit I enjoyed it. Hrithik Roshan is so cute (and *not* Saif Ali Khan for a change). The little kid gang is cute. Preity Zinta is cute (although not without some unfortunate costuming), and for once, is not required to cry. Well, this movie is all over the place, plot-wise, and totally unbelievable and crazy, but the spaceship was awesome when they came flying up the valley. I think it was this movie that made me realize how good Preity Zinta is as an actress. She can hold an entire conversation without ever speaking a word. You have to watch her over several films to see it, but that woman really has some acting skills. That kind of made up for the fact that this is one long commercial. Obviously, Coke poured a hell of a lot of money into this budget, as did Nescafe. Off the top of my head, I can also remember Emami Naturally Fair popping up more than once, Sansui, Avon Cycle, Lays potato chips, Hero Honda (which sponsored the stupidest part of the movie), and ... who am I missing? I'll let you know next I see this. Oh, yeah, the "hill station" scenery is pretty awesome. Most of those beautiful outdoor scenes were filmed at Yoho National Park in British Columbia (thus the boat with the word "Goodsirs" on it, named after the mountain.)

Bride and Prejudice--Not really a Bollywood movie, I know, but we just watched it so I'm adding it. Honestly, I'm not really feeling the Jane Austen love, I'm tired of watching all the makes and remakes. At least this was different, although a bit disorienting since it was in English. Could they have picked a more wooden actor to play the American? (No.) The consensus in my Hindi class is that Aishwarya Rai is beautiful and generally a good actress, but not when she's acting in English.

Woh Tera Naam Tha--When this first came out, the reviews all complained about it being "old-fashioned." So true. The only thing I can really say is that Gaurav Chanana has beautiful eyes. The title song was pretty. The ending was unpleasant on many levels. Rajat Bedi got to reprise his bad guy role of Raj Saxena from Koi...Mil Gaya. I was really put off by the scene of Reshma on her knees in front of Badru, drinking from the spout of water he's pouring out of his leather bag. It doesn't improve when Akthar steps in to help. It really doesn't improve with the decision to dub in her ecstatic whimpers.

Saathiya--Holy cow. There you are, enjoying a nice romance, and wham! From that "wham" moment on, I disliked the movie. What an implausible ending (even for Bollywood). Aditya was annoying as hell, and I was constantly hoping Suhani would just leave him. Such a big baby. And honestly, I know Vivek Oberoi is supposed to be all hot and everything, but he seems really wooden to me. Rani can make me pay attention. Vivek? No. I though the appearance of SRK and Tabu near the end was disconcerting, too. I never quite understood what was being said--did Yeshwant turn down the opportunity (apparently available to all corrupt policeman) to get his wife out of trouble, or not? For a minute there, I thought we were going to spin off into an entirely new "While You Were Sleeping" storyline. Anyway, I liked this enough to buy the soundtrack. I kept saying, "God, doesn't this music remind you of the Dil Se?" only to find out that A.R. Rahman was behind the music in both movies. Two points for my ear.

Mohabbatein--"Love Stories." Whoever failed to cast Amitabh Bachchan as a wizard in the Harry Potter movies really made a mistake. He is so ready for that role. This was one of two movies we watched last weekend that reminded me of exactly why I loved him when I was young. Most of this movie is forgettable (notably, the three school-boy romances, the Dead Poet's Society remake), but I thought the Big B was fantastic. Well, right up until the last scene, but isn't that the way it always is? The last scene of any movie from India seems to be an afterthought and a throwaway. Anyway, the real chemistry in this movie was between Amitabh Bachchan's charcter, Prinicipal Narayan Shankar, and Shahrukh Khan's character, Raj Aryan. I liked SRK in this role because his energy was muted. Even though his trousers were ill-fitted, he looked good in the preppy role. What I wouldn't give to see SRK and Amitabh Bachchan do Shakespeare. That would be.totally.awesome. I imagine Shiv Shena/BJP hated this film w/its Valentine's Day romance. Aishwarya Rai's role was allegedly supporting, but she made a good contribution to the film overall. The role of Vikram was apparently cast by someone looking for effective steroid abuse rather than effective acting skills.

Veer-Zaara--A very sweet film. It felt very nostalgic and full of longing. The music played a big role in creating that atmosphere, I think. The beginning of the film was contrived, but I forgave the script that flaw once the story started to take off. And the helicopter scene gave Preity Zinta a chance to shout over her bag (she shouts well). Overall, I don't think it was a challenge for SRK or Preity, although it was nice to see SRK get to look unglamorous for awhile. I thought the scene in which Veer throws nuts in Zaara's mouth while simultaneously pulling them across the river in a handcar was very funny. The best parts of the movie involved Veer's parents, and once again, I was reminded that I love Amitabh Bachchan. Catherine didn't even recognize him: "Is that...no...it couldn't be...he's laughing!" And it's true, he's always cast as stern, oppressive figure these days. I loved Bauji and Maati. The Lodi song was the best in the movie. Rani Mukherjee had a tough role, trying to look serious and sympathetic and challenged and determined and frustrated and compassionate simultaneously. She had some good tears near the end. The end had a couple of flaws that I won't spell out, but mostly it was nice. Garry watched this with us, and all three of us tried to predict the ending, but we all three at least partially missed the mark. Pakistan came out looking not so bad in the end, which was a nice change from the India good-Pakistan bad rhetoric that dominates these days. I only had time to watch this once, but I would definitely watch it again, if only to see SRK pelt Preity Zinta with nuts.

Dil Se--Wow. Amazing movie. Catherine and I are still arguing over it. I know it wasn't a box-office hit (if you made a list of ten things every successful Bollywood film should have, this movie would have missed at least nine of them) but I disagree with those who think this isn't a good movie. For one, the cinematography was amazing. There's one scene between Amar and "Meghna" that takes place in a dark hallway with a door in the background opening and closing the entire time--how many tries did it take to shoot that scene? And the picturizations were also fantastic. None of the music really pushed the plot forward and, in fact, the movie would have been a lot tighter without them. On the other hand, that last song with Amar and Preety on the water? Beautiful. Dancing on the train top? Dangerous. But Fantastic. One of the lovely things about this movie is SRK, of course. I didn't even like Amar, but couldn't help admiring SRK's skill the entire time I watching. This movie is ostensibly about terrorism, but if you ask me, it's really about obsession. Amar's obsession, specifically. I thought Preety offered him a shot at redemption, and he refused to take it. He could have chosen to do so many other things than the thing he actually did, and I can't help but be disappointed by him in the end. This movie is a good example of how selfish Bollywood love can be. Amar really believes his love is the most important thing--everything outside it doesn't exist for him. I didn't really have trouble understanding "Meghna's" motivation, but Amar? Needs to rethink the concept of love. Preity Zinta does a good job in this role. This is one of her early movies, so she hasn't yet been polished to within an inch of her life. I wonder how much henna Bollywood hairstylists go through in a year. Zohra Sehgal had her small "I'm the grandmother" role. I love that woman.

Na Tum Jaano Na Hum--proof positive that without a strong lead female, a movie sucks. Hrithik Roshan and Saif Ali Khan just couldn't rescue this one. The pacing was sluggish, most of the music just died in the speakers, and the dubbing was sloppy. I really tried to like it, but just didn't.

Lakshya--Okay, I'm coming back to edit this. I've done some reading about the Kargil conflict, and done some thinking, and I've decided the film gets a more positive review than I originally gave it. There were some really nice touches from "real life," like the shepherd, and now that I know more about high-altitude fighting, it seems more realistic. I still hate Indo-Pak war movies, but after watching this three times, I've grown to appreciate it. The cinematography was great in places (no rock climbing for me) and Hrithik Roshan is a fantabulous dancer--no bones in his arms, that boy. I think the really big flaw in this movie is its lack of complexity. Did anyone have any trouble seeing where the movie was going to end up? No? Me, neither, and it wasn't just because we know how the conflict was resolved in real life. No one character was very deep. Preity Zinta did a good job with a poorly sketched character. Hrithik Roshan did an even better job with a very one-dimensional character. A *very* one-dimensional character. At the end, I realized I didn't care if he lived or died (although we'd hate to make Romila cry). Catherine took an instant liking to one of the secondary characters and spent the rest of the movie worrying about him. I felt more for the secondary characters than for the Hrithik Roshan character. See? I saw the movie three times and I still can't remember his name! Three of the five songs were very good ("Main eisa kyon hoon" [new wave straight-jacket song], "Agar main kahoon" [the second song where he plays Romi's arm like a guitar and then later does a Steve Martin imitation, look for it], and "Kandhon se milte hain kandhe" [the Army driving song]). Love the short hair on Preity, hate the long curly hair.

Lagaan--Great production values, *horrible* Hindi. I don't like to re-watch this movie because everytime one of those damn Brits says something in Hindi I cringe and vow never to speak another word of it. Because you know I sound JUST LIKE THAT. This is a good Aamir Khan role, not nearly as annoying as he was in DCH. Some of the villagers were very entertaining, especially the big guy who reminded me of Hagrid. A little bit of an anachronism going on there with Bhuvan's championing of the dalit, but I guess they needed to invent the googly somehow. Biggest googly ever. Hated Elizabeth's character--"I'm falling in love with you!" but then again, you're supposed to hate the British. I heard once that Preity Zinta turned down the role of Gauri, which is just as well. I can't see it as a role she could sink her teeth into, it was just sort of standard. I loved the village landscape (the cricket scenes could have been shot near my hometown) and I loved the soundtrack. Bonus points if you know which movies lifted songs from Lagaan.

Salaam Namaste--We waited forever to get this from Netflix. Was it worth the wait? Only if you want to see a beefy Saif spend two hours in his underwear (I know, there are a lot of women who want to see exactly that). Overall, I think Preity turns in a good performance as usual, and Saif turned in an adequate performance. My favorite scene of his did not involve his underwear. It was when he was yelling "Hambar! Hambarrrrrrrrrrrrr!" into his phone. Mostly, this was the movie that Kya Kehna! would have been had Priya's family not chased her down at the train station. I don't know, would you trust Nick to grow up and be a real husband and father? At least no one hit him in the stomach and said, "Be a man!" like usually happens. Anyway, this movie was edgy for Bollywood but really nothing so new. But, I'm all for anything with Preity in it, so I can't say anything too negative. It wasn't a waste of my 2.5 hours.

Swades--You know, I'm not sure if it was just my mood while I was watching this, or the company that I was in when I watched it (that would be my father-in-law, saying "I guess that guy will never win an Academy Award, will he?" everytime SRK said something), but I didn't really get into this movie. That's incredibly odd, since I love all things astronautic, but maybe that was the problem. Was that opening news conference supposed to make sense? I liked this movie in that it tried to cover real issues in India. I never really felt India's pain, though. I loved the old woman who kept saying, "Electricity! Electricity!" I liked the supporting characters. I loved the idea of driving a caravan through a village. But I just didn't really like the movie. Maybe it was because they expected me to believe that no one in the village had ever looked up at the stars before SRK came to town (please). I was a little disappointed by the music. Usually I really enjoy A.R. Rahman's music (Dil Se, Saathiya) but this movie only had one song that stuck with me afterward. Good production values (that means "good sound quality."). My partner disagrees with me, she liked it more, so maybe I should watch it again. And now I'm coming back to edit this to say that the soundtrack has quite grown on me, so I guess I can go back to liking A.R. Rahman.

Black--Can I touch Rani Mukherji's feet? Just to watch her not be elegant and untouchable was worth the price of admission (well, the price of the Netflix subscription). I know a lot of people complained about this movie, saying it was "just" The Miracle Worker, but come on...since when are revivals a bad thing? That's like saying, "You know, we did Hamlet once back in the 50s, so I don't think anyone should ever perform it again." Anyway, although some of the plotline was fairly close to the original story, there were definite variations (nice job with them, too, Mr. Bachchan). I can't think of single superfluous character (you know, no Johny Lever to lighten things up). Everyone introduced had a purpose in the plot. Ayesha should have gotten a "best female actress" award along with Rani, I think. Catherine started crying four, five times during this one, a sign that the emotions played true. I liked the score and give the cinematography generally high marks. Some of the scenery seemed flat, but maybe that was for the best, it didn't compete with the actors. Truly a wonderful viewing experience.

Rang De Basanti--Okay, we've been watching this in class, so it's probably not fair to even have an opinion about it. Watching a Bollywood movie in 25 minute chunks, once a week, makes it almost impossible to keep track of what is going on. But I have an opinion, anyway. What I'd like to say about this movie is that I like the intention behind it, but I didn't so much like the movie. Partly I think I was just underwhelmed by Aamir Khan, or maybe his character. He just seemed a bit flat, or at least the rest of the cast seemed to have a lot more life in them. But mostly what bugged me was the "outsider shows them the meaning of life" trope. I hate it when someone from the outside comes into a community and shows them how to live (or in this case...well, you finish that thought). I mean, why, all the sudden were these boys so passionate about India? What started everything in motion? That stupid British Sue's movie, that's what. It's similar to what bothered me about Swadesh, it's like you have to be an NRI or a foreigner to see India "the way it really is." Imperialist viewpoint, if you ask me. I actually liked the idea behind the movie, showing the psychological growth of these young men, turning them into people who cared about their environment and hoped for change, but I was kind of put off by the nationalist discourse. Also, I disliked the way they "became" their movie characters, as if they wouldn't have had any access to the emotions they needed to embrace vigilante justice if they hadn't had Sue's script to feed them earlier. I don't know, I didn't hate the movie, and I really can appreciate it as a serious attempt at political commentary, but it left me lukewarm about the whole thing. And the ending was just annoying.

Main Prem Ki Diwani Hoon--This movie explained a lot of things about the kids in my Hindi class. No wonder they're so freaking unable to sit still for five minutes, they're watching movies like this. I felt like the producers were trying to induce a seizure in the viewer. Well, until Abhishek Bachchan hit the screen, and then I thought they were offering a cure for insomnia. Actually, this movie was super cute, and probably a huge hit with the pre-teen set, which surely was its intended audience. Hrithik Roshan's character was a nutcase, and Abhishek Bachchan's character was boring. Kareena was all over the map. I should say, I usually do not like Kareena, but her character made me laugh harder than I have ever laughed at a Hindi film. When she opened the door (when Prem1 first arrives at the family home) and did her eye-blink thing, I almost fell off the couch laughing. I'm not sure why I thought it was so funny, but Catherine also started crying she was laughing so much, so it wasn't just me. I think Catherine liked the movie better than I did, but I did sit and watch the entire thing, so it couldn't have been totally bad (like a couple of others I haven't finished). I am probably one of the two people in the world who likes Johnny Lever, he's so cuddly, so I tend to be pleased when he pops into a movie. The animation was crazy, although not as crazy as tying a dead parrot to your handlebars when you go to a bike ride (I'm looking at you, Prem1). Also, even if college = high school in India, I don't believe Bollywood college bears any resemblence to any college ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD. Two other things: 1) there's a scene right at the end, in which Abhishek's character is sitting on the floor, doing a finger painting. Maybe it was the red shirt, but he looked just like his father, until he looked up and broke the illusion. Catherine says he's better looking than his father was at that age, I think that is heresy; 2) the always and ever fabulous Reema Lagoo shows up after the intermission. I would have married Abhishek's character just to have her for the most beautiful mother-in-law in the world.

Kaho Naa Pyar Hai--Not actually Hrithik Roshan's first movie, but the one who made him "just like Elvis." Fifteen seconds into the movie, Catherine turned to me and said, "Well, of course, he became a star, how could he not after that opening?" to which I answered, "Yeah, if they had any sense, they'd stop this movie now, because it can only go downhill from here." And right at that moment, coolio Rohit started doing the stupidest air guitar routine I've ever seen and proved my point. He recovered his coolness, though, because it was only a dream. I avoided this movie because I wasn't sure about Amisha Patel, she reminded me of Kareena, and I can only take so much of that. But I ended up liking her character. When they realized they were castaways, her character didn't freak out like they always make girls do in the movies. Instead, she was completely happy about being stranded on a deserted island. On the other hand, she didn't at any time try to find fresh water. But I guess she knew craft services would be feeding them at some point. Anyway, what I really got from this movie is that I so prefer Hrithik WITH HIS SHIRT ON. What is this Bollywood obsession with his rather creepy physique? Also, I really don't like hero-type Hrithik. I don't know if he just plays the hero badly (doesn't bode well for Krrish! does it?), or if he is being told to play it badly. I think Hrithik has a talent for playing the dork or the average guy, but once he hits that transformation to hero-type, I can turn off the movie. Possibly the best part of the movie was his interview in the special features section. He at least seems normal (or knows how to act like he's normal) there.

Shakespeare Wallah--Merchant-Ivory's second India film. This is an awesome slice of imperialist nostalgia, filmed when India hadn't even been independent for 20 years. It ends up making India look sort of degenerate (have to ship the young white woman home to protect her, those bad Indians lose their love of British culture) but I think that's exactly what the British were feeling in the 1960s. I didn't really enjoy the film the first time through, I forgot that nothing happens in a Merchant-Ivory production. Then I watched the interviews with Merchant, Ivory, and Felicity Kendal and decided the film was fantastic. Also included on the DVD was Merchant's 1960 documentary "Delhi Way." Nothing happened in it, either, but it was still interesting to see what he was thinking about 46 years ago.

Dil Hai Tumhaara--Nice, light and fluffy. Any movie that offers me three hours of non-stop Preity is good by me. There must be a Preity saturation point, but I haven't reached it yet, even though I feel as if I've memorized the mannerisms that reappear in picturization after picturization (the "I'm cute" eye blink, for instance, or the "I find myself absolutely stunned by your proximity" gaze). Still, there was a scene in this movie that reminded me all over again that she really can act. When she transitioned from sobs to laughter in the space of three seconds, I realized that I completely bought her sad act because I said outloud "How can anyone go from that sad to that happy just like that? She must have been acting!" Well, no kidding. Catherine rediscovered her attraction to Jimmy Shergill in this movie (previously seen in Mohabbatein). He is far down the list from SRK and SAK, but he's on her list. Can I just say, that is the ugliest damn puppet I've ever seen? Maybe if they'd stop running to New Zealand to film their picturizations they could afford to put more money into their puppets. I have a soft spot for the "baldies" in the movie, they were kind of charming in their own inept-attempt-at-humor way. Also, could Rekha be more intense? I'm serious, if her character had whipped out an axe and started chasing Shalu around the house, I wouldn't have been surprised, she was that creepy.

Deewani Huye Pagal--Catherine's response: "At least it was supposed to be a fake parrot this time." That tells you a lot about how blah this movie was to us. The best part was the introduction/segues by Vivek Oberoi. Catherine discovered Sunil Shetty (he's a little above Vivek Oberoi on her list, but somewhere below Hrithik). This film reminded me a little bit of Hera Pheri, mabye because of Akshay Kumar, maybe because of the fast talking. Again, as one of the two Johnny Lever fans in the world, I liked it that he had a slightly larger role than he usually gets in movies. I must say, that I wasn't a huge fan of There's Something About Mary, to which this movie is usually compared, but I thought this one was somewhat fun. I'm not sure why people are so down on Bollywood for being derivative, or copying storylines from Hollywood. Do you people ever watch Hollywood movies? There are only four or five storylines in the industry, they just copy each other. At least they add music when they take it to India.

Bumbai--Holy @#*$&! I guess this movie knocks Dil Se out of its first place position in the "Best Bollywood Movie I've Ever Seen" competition. Really, it was quite stunning. Dil Se made me sick to my stomach for a full 24 hours. Bumbai will hurt my stomach a lot and I loved those smiles the twins wore when they found each other in the empty house. The ending, as we all know ten years later, was way too optimistic, but I guess you can't blame them for trying. The only jarring note was the item number--it just didn't fit the narrative the way the rest of the picturizations did. But as a stand alone song, I liked it (when A. R. Rahman is on his game, he produces the most wonderful music). Mani Ratnam just writes nice screen plays and apparently gives good direction, he turns out great products. The other nice thing about this movie was its lack of English. Unlike some of the newer productions, it had only three English words that we caught (journalist and T-shirt were two of them, can't remember the third). That may have been because the movie was done in Tamil and then dubbed into Hindi, or it could be that Mani Ratnam is just a better writer and doesn't need to fall back on loan words in every other sentence. This isn't a movie like Kal Ho Naa Ho; you can't keep watching it over and over or it will just kill you, but it is definitely the best movie I've seen in a long time.

The Mystic Masseur--The first 2/3s of this Merchant-Ivory production were quite good. The end (after the pandit joins the political world) were just empty and boring. I haven't read the original Naipaul story, so I'm not sure if the imbalance was introduced in the writing of the screenplay or what. But the first 2/3s make the movie worth watching, especially if you're interested in the Hindu diaspora. Great characters, quite witty. Also, any movie with Zohra Sehgal in it is quite fine by me. I love that woman.

Mission Kashmir--Well, after reading the description of how this movie was made in Maximum City, I sure didn't expect much out of this one. Also, I've avoided Sanjay Dutt...well...I'll let everyone else figure out why. However, it really had some fine moments, few of them involving Hrithik Roshan, unfortunately. Again, it's difficult to tell if he really can't pull off the hero/terrorist role, or he's been given bad direction. Whichever it is, the movie turns into a cartoon whenever his character is on screen. I know SRK was originally slated for the role, but I can't see that he would have peformed any better. He's also a cartoonish strong man. Sanjay Dutt, on the other hand, did an amazing job, as did Master Moshin. Puru Rajkumar was exactly as sinister as he should have been. Sonali Kulkarni was also quite nice. Preity was her usually solid self, but her role wasn't much. (As an aside, this is the first movie I've seen her use a full-on South Asian Head Wobble. I've seen one or two highly abbreviated SAHWs out of her, but this was the best one ever.) The soundtrack was so nice, and really cruel in its own way (I'm talking to you, "Maaf Karo"). This is the third movie I've seen that required a young Hrithik, and this one was the best--you can't tell me that kid in K3G grew up to be Hrithik. Master Moshin still didn't resemble Hrithik too much, but at least he had the right complexion. This is the second movie I've seen that required a young Preity, and both had great little girls to fill the role. This one had Preity's attitude and her teeth (before she had them straightened). There are some definite plot flaws, but after reading Maximum City, I understand why. Also, although the last scene of the movie is pure Bollywood, it bears thinking about what the movie could have been without it--much better, much more ambiguous, without that last scene.

Chori Chori Chupke Chupke--Huh. This is the first Bollywood movie I've seen that lifted a Hollywood script scene for scene (Pretty Woman). Unfortunately, the stealing didn't really contribute anything to plot of the movie, although my wife did enjoy watching Preity Zinta interpretation of Julia Roberts' interpretation of a prostitute. Seriously, a movie about a surrogate mother in India has so much potential, but the "screenwriters" screwed the entire thing up. I think the cast should have felt really ripped off, having to work with that material. I'm not a huge Salman Khan fan, but at least his character really loved his creepily cheerful wife. The most (perhaps only) beautiful thing about this movie was the PZ South Asain head wobble. She seriously looked like a bobble-head doll, her head was was wobbling 24/7 in this one, a thing of beauty. Trust me.

Asoka--Decent movie, especially given that no one seemed to have a script in hand when they started producing the damn thing. Everyone knows I'm not a Kareena fan which is, quite frankly, puzzling. She has exactly the kind of body I wish I had, but I just don't find her alluring. She would make a great warrior if they dressed her properly, though. I don't think most people go to war with bare midriffs, but that's just my own speculation. Amazingly, even though this is an epic, Johnny Lever still shows up. The music is really nice even if not exactly suited to the movie (good to watch afterward, but really quite superfluous to the plot). Master Sooraj Balaji was a little cutie during the entire tale. SRK did a better job than I thought he would, although it was hard to get past his "I am SRK" look. Catherine really liked this movie. I went to bed about 30 minutes from the finish but she stayed up and watched the end even though it was already hours past her bedtime. I finished it the next day. We both agree that it would have been a better movie if they had moved to his point of enlightenment a little more quickly so they could share at least part of his Buddhist life with us.

Yeh Raaste Hain Pyaar Ke--Meh. Not much to say about this movie, other than it was pretty stupid. Oh, and also I find Ajay Devgan not at all attractive or interesting. What did Neha/Sakshi see in Vicky or Rohit? Nothing going on upstairs, I think. Also, the "bad guys" were stupid and laughable, as was the evil aunt. And what was that whole thing about speaking in rhyme? Crazy people, I tell you. I liked the bhang song, but it really just seemed like an interruption to the story. And honestly, how did they get from the Bangalore Turf Club to Manali in, like, two seconds? Do they think I don't know my India geography? Anyway, if I had slept through this movie, that would have been okay, despite Madhuri Dixit's beauty and Preity Zinta's smile.

Baghban--God, what a horrible movie. If I typed for 30 minutes, I still wouldn't be able to cover everything I didn't like about it. It's easier to say what I did like: Mr. Bachchan's singing, and the man-wife relationship as played by Mr. Bachchan and Hema Malini. There's nothing else good to say about the movie. I'm listening to the soundtrack, and it's quite nice, too bad it was attached to such a rotten bit of cinema. Heinous children, saintly parents (yet still incapable of offering forgiveness), implausible plots, blaming the girl for the male's bad sexual behavior, all of it makes it a bad movie. And seriously, what was up with the Salman Khan character? First, do you think his parents would really forget to tell him that they were moving out of the family home? Get real. What is the likelihood of the parents stumbling into a Ford dealership in Vijaynagar w/out knowing that it was owned by their son? Get real. And would he really sleep at the foot of their bed? Get real. And his speech at the end completely creeped me out--he sounded as if he was auditioning for a speaking role in "Night of the Living Dead." If that guy started sleeping in my bedroom, I'd make sure I had a wooden stake and silver bullet on the nightstand.

Dil Ne Jise Apna Kahaa--And speaking of creepy...I know this was supposed to be a love story, but my god, sleeping with the woman who ended up with your former's wife heart? That's disgusting. Wouldn't you look at the scar on her chest and think, "Hmm...she's alive because my wife died in a car accident last year." Too weird. I'm just not a Salman Khan fan, although he was better in this movie than in any other I've seen him in, mainly because he was only half-dressed most of the time. His upper body is much nicer than Hrithik Roshan's. Still, those short shorts and bold print shirts? Gotta go. Everybody did an adequate job, but I thought the character played Bhoomika Chawla was a bit blah. I will say Preity had a brilliant acting moment when she got to die mid-breath. Those "I'm dead" eyes were seriously disturbing.

Kind of an odd weekend. Sophia said she didn't have any homework this week, so after I got over my feelings of disgust and envy, I made good on my promise to teach her how to skate. We went to the rink on both Saturday and Sunday (three days in a row at the rink for me, as I went to the UIUC-NDU hockey game Friday night). On one hand, it was a nice time and gave my confidence a boost. It's good to know there is ONE THING on this planet that I do better than most of the adult population. And Sophia really seemed to enjoy learning, so that made it more fun as well. On the other hand, socializing is horribly stressful for me, I hate the process of negotiating new friendships. I made the mistake of actually being honest once, only to be met with a blank stare and a "That's ridiculous, I don't understand that at all" reply. I remembered why I don't go out with other people as often as I could. I'm basically alone much of the time, and though I do get lonely, overall it seems less painful to be by myself than to have to explain myself to other people.

I should just set up a file of stock phrases that I can cut and paste into this journal. "Today I went to school and it was rainy." "Today I went to school and it was cold." "Today I went to school and it was frustrating." "Today I went to school and broke a bone." Those kinds of things.

Really, my hand isn't broken, just sprained, proving my assertion that if you have to ask "is it broken?" it's not. You know when a bone is broken. There's no guesswork involved.

One week down, fourteen more to go. Trying to fight the panicky "too many classes!" feeling. Trying to fight the "why the fuck can't the Linguistics Department get its act together and design a *real* Hindi program?" feeling. Trying to fight the "god, I'm the only one in this room who doesn't understand!" feeling. Trying to fight the "my body hates me and I hate my body" feeling.

On the plus side, I heard someone refer to me this week as "[her] Ph.D. student." This is the first time anyone has ever taken ownership of me, so that seems like a good thing. Also, the same person recommended me as a blind peer reviewer for a journal she co-edits. And also on the (possibly) plus side, another professor recognized me, remembered my name, and didn't seem obviously disappointed to find me in her seminar this semester. I don't understand more than half of what she says, but hopefully by the end of the year...

There are too many quotation marks on this page. Really.

Just in case I come back to this in five years and wonder what the hell that last post was about: all the slicing and dicing took place on the shoulder blade this time, not the collar bone, so most of what I wrote last week was one big lie.

And in other news, tomorrow I go in for another shoulder operation, a second "distal clavicle excision." Looking on the bright side, I'm having arthropscopic rather than open surgery this time, and the surgeon should only be taking of a centimeter or so of bone. And no ligament detachment/relocation, so that's all to the good. On the other hand, bone is bone, so I'm not looking forward to it because, basically, I'm a wuss. This is all pretty unexpected (I found out on December 19th, *after* I planned my work schedule for the semester break), so I'm trying to cram in a bunch of work, mostly unsuccessfully. I've only crossed two things off my to do list today:

Post Office
DMV
Sahara Mart
Catherine's birthday present
Book review
Finish bibliography
Finish Christmas cards
Scarf
Disassemble drums
Bank
Catherine's birthday cake
Grocery store
Dinner w/Erika and Henry

Obviously, many people are not going to get Christmas cards after all this (last) year. The rough draft of the book review is almost done. Four of these tasks can't be accomplished until after 5 p.m., if you can call dining out a task, that is. And don't think I haven't considered telling my advisor, "You know, I did work on the bibliography, but there was this bit of unscheduled shoulder surgery, and you know...I just couldn't get it done," accompanied by a look of "I'm so ashamed, really, and it will never happen again." But I'm not that much of a player, so I guess I'd better get to work.

Are my professors nuts? I avoided taking one class this semester because the students last semester told me the course packet alone cost $313 (no one had added up the price of the textbooks, they probably couldn't bear the pain). I've only looked up two of my classes, but so far I'm looking at $707.90 for books. If they add a course packet to that...I might throw up. I'm not even in engineering! All I can say is there had better be a healthy collection of books on reserve, although having met one professor...I'd say that's probably a wish that will go unfulfilled. Doesn't seem the type to get that done. I don't have the nerve to look up my landscape class--I have a feeling that the price of those books may kill me.

Wow. My first present of the New Year was an incredibly kind e-mail from an old high school friend. But then I looked at the date and time it was sent, and had to conclude that he was probably drunk when he sent it. Still, even if it was thoroughly soaked with alcohol, and even if he probably doesn't remember that he wrote it, it was very nice to read.

I doubt that I'm the only one who gave a New Year's toast that sounded more like a plea and less like a celebration: Please, please, please let 2006 be better than 2005. Not that last year was all bad, but there were more than a few moments when I thought Father Time was doing his best to kick me in the teeth.

In the interest of getting this year started on a more positive note than the last one ended (couldn't let New Year's Eve just slip by, could you FT, without one last right-left combination?), we went for a walk at Green's Bluff this morning. Very pretty, nice views, not for anyone suffering from vertigo or fear of heights. As we passed the last farm before the parking area, four dogs ran out and started chasing our car, following us to the trailhead. You know me, afraid of dogs, but I eventually opened my door to the biggest one and he jumped all over me, wagging his tail. A large yellow-red sort of dog, accompanied by an old beagle, a puppy beagle, and a black pomeranian. I think the Nature Preserve rules state that you're supposed to only have dogs in the area if they're leashed, but since they weren't our dogs...what were we supposed to do? The small dogs were really funny, anyway, and the large dog was the smart one, and since they didn't eat us, I liked having them with us. Didn't much like smelling like dog afterward, and I wouldn't want to have to take care of them all the time, but for an hour, I guess dogs are okay.

Did a little work in the afternoon, then sat in my chair and finished Catherine's Christmas present. I only made one present this year (a significant decline in workshop production), and that was an afghan for Catherine. Obviously, I didn't finish it on time, but it's done now. I think that's my last afghan, I'm not really good with the yarn. We re-watched Fire while I was working. Why was this movie in English? Probably so people like me can crochet while watching it. One of these days we'll see the rest of the trilogy.

I did make one resolution this year. It's long and drawn out, but to paraphrase, it is to "be nicer to myself." One day down, 364 more to go. We'll see how this works out.

I'm sure everybody--and by "everybody," I mean "Catherine"--will be glad to know I've unwound just a bit this week. I have been so uptight the past four weeks that I've been like...I don't know, rapidly cooling blown glass? You should be hiding behind a protective shield because you know I'm about to shatter into a thousand incredibly sharp pieces ANY SECOND NOW. But I've been more or less relaxing this week (I can't seem to completely stop working as long as I know a due date is approaching) and it's probably doing everyone some good. An example: last night, instead of spending even more hours in front of the computer searching for resources on the discourse of non-western science (yes, that's a hint, if you know of any good ones, e-mail me), I sat on the couch with a glass of sherry and read Stave 1 of Dickens' A Christmas Carol to Catherine. Every year I am amazed at how well the Muppets captured the language of the original. Good job, Gonzo.

Such a tough time of year for the non-believers, isn't it? I don't really mind the whole Christmas thing too much--a holiday that says "be nice and give things to people" is okay by me--but then again, I'm usually in control of my exposure to All Things Christmas. Don't want to hear Christmas music? Don't go to the mall. Simple. I wasn't expecting our monthly Civil War Roundtable meeting to turn into a church service, though. I guess I should have figured, since the presentation topic was "Christmas during the Civil War," but I'm so out of touch religiously that it never occurred to me I'd be hearing about the Baby Jesus.

Anyway, I learned a few things tonight:

1. How did I get to be this age without learning what "myrrh" is? I mean, I knew it was "an aromatic resin" of some sort, put into balm, but I didn't know it was used to *embalm* people. How creepy is it that the Three Kings brought a baby something to be used in embalming? What kind of message were they sending the kid? "Welcome, prepare to die." No wonder I'm not a Christian.

2. I learned a different version of "Away in a Manger" when I was a kid. The song we heard tonight I knew as "Luther's Cradle Hymn." Same lyrics, better tune.

3. The really interesting thing I learned today is that Longfellow wrote the poem/Christmas carol "Christmas Bells" on Christmas 1864 when he was particularly depressed about family tragedies and the Civil War. I'm sure I've heard or sung this song before, but I'm also sure the verses about the Civil War weren't part of the lyrics in the standard Baptist hymnal. Those stanzas make it an immensely interesting poem, much better than just a Christmas carol--not hard to see who he felt was at fault during the war:

"Christmas Bells"
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1864

"I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till, ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each black accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said;
"For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!"

If one more person says, "At least you don't have to do any homework for awhile!" I WILL SCREAM. Shall I make a list of everything I have to write and submit in the next month? Book review, conference proposal, a research bibliography, fellowship application... It makes me wonder, am I doing this all wrong? Should I not have a stack of work to do over winter break? I think it's less that I'm doing it wrong and more that people outside academia don't realize that "vacation" is a synonym for "a time for working without the usual interruptions."

And do you realize that Christmas is only a week away, and I haven't done one single thing to prepare for it? Other than starting to drink rum in the evenings, I mean?

Mm. I thought I would feel better after turning in my last paper, but it turns out...not. Catherine says she used to feel the same way, it's just a transition from "Oh my god, I'm not going to get it finished in time!" to "Oh my god, they're reading that garbage I wrote RIGHT NOW!" Maybe I'll calm down after I take my final on Friday.

All things considered, I think I produced a lot of work this semester, not that much of it will help me in the long run. This is the last time I take a class just because it seems like a politically smart thing to do. Proven: "politically smart" isn't the same thing as "interesting subject." And really, whoever it was who said EVERY subject is interesting if you approach it with the right attitude really hasn't spent enough time in graduate school.

So...what can we say I accomplished this semester? A total of 5 seminar presentations, with handouts and slides to support. Seven response essays. One short research paper (Title: "The Crystal Palace and Postmodern Architectural Theory"). Two informal Hindi class presentations (joke). Three research papers (Titles: "Frank Lloyd Wright, Francis C. Sullivan and the Banff Park Recreation Pavilion, 1911-1913"; "Always Already Lost: Postcolonial Theory and the Search for Identity in Indian Architecture"; and "Vastu Vidya: Vedic Architectural Theory in Postmodern India." Notice a trend?) supported with three research presentations. All three presentations were disastrous. As we all know, after the first one, I ended up in therapy. After the second, I ended up crying. After the third, I ended up not caring about much of anything at all.

Two days to my final, on which I must get 100%. I obviously don't have time to be typing this at all, do I?

I *thought* it was Mr. Foster who came to the schoolhouse, but then I wondered, "Why would anyone follow Mr. Foster out into a blizzard? I wouldn't follow a guy who can't keep his head and ends up losing Almanzo's horse to a herd of antelope, especially since no one knows yet that Mr. Foster can *spell*," then I remembered that the antelope were later so why not follow him into the blizzard? because you'd probably think Cap Garland's flashing white smile would save they day, anyway.

You remember how in The Long Winter Laura and Carrie are in school and a blizzard comes and they all look each other in a worried way because they know they have to get home but they also know they will get lost in the snow if they leave the school house so maybe they should stay inside and burn the furniture until the blizzard is over in three days but then someone from town comes and tells them to follow him and so they go out into the snow even though they know its a bad idea because people get lost in blizzards all the time but they try to head for town and almost get lost but then Laura runs into the corner of a building and yells really loud for everyone to come back because she has found town and then everyone is in town and Laura and Carrie are home and when they take off their mufflers they are frozen solid with ice and even when Laura is sitting by the fire she is too cold to think and when she wipes her eyes her hand has blood on it because the ice cut her eyes because they were out in the snow?

Illinois is a lot like that.

Story.

Blog.

Last night I went to a hockey game--there's nothing like ritualized harrassment to make you feel better about life. Well, it's a little troubling watching 6-year-old boys learn how to chant "Hey, you suck! Hey, you suck! Hey, you suck, too!" but hockey crowds are so predictable in their reactions that it's almost a soothing experience. And really, it's the individual yelling that gets to me, that one, loud obscene fan who obviously needs anger management classes. In general, though, Illinois crowds are much better behaved than Indiana crowds, maybe because the University has much greater oversight at the games here than the games at the rink in Bloomington. Also, Illinois wins all the the time, so the crowd never really gets angry.

Tonight's my last big emotional challenge for the semester. I have two papers and one presentation left to go, but if I can get through tonight's function without having a meltdown, I should at least be able to finish the semester without too much trouble. Right now I'm just dealing with regular old end-of-the-semester inertia combined with a poorly insulated apartment. It got down into the single digits for the first time last night, and I woke up at 3 a.m. shivering under my FOUR BLANKETS AND A COMFORTER. Did the radiators even come on last night?

I just looked down at a pile of papers on my office floor, and on one of them, it says in block letters "DON'T BLAME PANOFSKY!" What in the world prompted me to write that?

Random thoughts, in no particular order (and thus...actually random):

1. Clean up office so Panofsky quits distracting me.
2. Thanksgiving break was okay, even if half of it was spent apologizing for picking a fight with my partner.
3. You must wonder--if leaving is so hard, why even bother arriving? Save ourselves the trouble.
4. It is fucking cold here.
5. Two weeks plus finals.
6. No way to pull an A in Hindi short of getting more than 100% on the final. How statistically impossible is that?
7. This weekend will blow.
8. Garry and Amanda, cheese souffle, Farming Game. We are never getting a dog.
9. Homi Bhaba calls.
10. As does...whatever the hell the name of that book is that you're supposed to have read by Friday.
11. Radiators suck.
12.

Well, productivity has been low for the past few days, but I've decided I'm going to go with the assumption that the guy who invented vacations knew what he was doing. One or two (or three or four) days of rest and relaxation must be good for my mind. And if it's not, I don't want to hear about it. I'm not exactly at a point in my work where I should feel good about taking a break (1/2 way through one paper, 1/4 way through a second, haven't even thought about the third...and oh, those two presentations? I'll deal with them later), but I figure writing nothing at all has to be better than writing "I hate you all and wish you would die" over and over again. At least I can't go to jail for sitting around and doing nothing at this point.

So....thirteen weeks of graduate school and I'm already back in therapy. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, especially since I seem to be carrying a rather large load of "You Cannot Fail AGAIN" on my back these days. But still...thirteen weeks? Couldn't I have sucked it up for a least a semester before having a nervous breakdown? And really...crying in the counselor's office? What the hell is that about? I DO NOT cry in front of people. In the past thirteen years, the only person I've cried in front of is Catherine, and even that is has been rather infrequent. Before Catherine, I know I cried once in front of Chong. And I've cried in front of my family, but they were trying to provoke me into crying, so I don't think that counts. So, in the last twenty years or so, I've cried in front of exactly two people before today. Why couldn't I have kept that behavior up instead of bursting into tears, I don't know, all of two seconds into my therapy session? I really DO need my head examined.

If I was the kind of person who wanted to write a coded love letter, I would give the person I loved a copy of a much cherished book, identical in edition to the one I kept on my own shelf. I would write "17-1-1::38-9-1/56-15-14/57-4-22/1-1-4::19-6-21/69-6-5/13-7-8" on a piece of paper, slip it inside the cover, and hope they cared enough about me to decipher the code stored in the pages of a book written by someone other than me.

Here's my question on academic integrity:

If a professor assigns me a chapter to read, and I read it (twice), and I don't understand it (twice), is it cheating to go to the library and find the book so I can read the introduction and therefore have someone position/interpret the article for me? I somehow think it is, but I don't think it's going to keep me from doing it (more than twice).

Well, the trip to Chicago wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. I've been dreading it all semester, and my anxiety level escalated when I realized I was going to have to ride there in my advisor's vehicle, all by myself. Think about how many opportunities a person can have during a 4.5 hour car ride to misspeak and therefore to tank one's academic career. But, it was mostly okay and I think even if it hadn't worked out alright, it might have been worth it in order to see the buildings we visited. My advisor arranged for our class to tour four private residences (the Frank Thomas House, the Robert Spencer House, the Charles Purcell House and the William Drummond House), and that opportunity will never happen again, so that was nice.

Still, two field trips to Chicago is at least one too many during a semester when I'm driving back and forth to Indiana every other weekend.

Who gets to decide how much "potential" I have in me? My report cards in grammar/junior high/high school were very consistent: nearly every one noted that "Susan is not working up to her potential." (The corollary to that, appearing nearly as often, is "Susan has a bad attitude," but that's another post.) My entire school career was thus characterized by failure. I should be doing better in class, but I'm not. I should be a better citizen, but I'm not.

The point is, in graduate school, I get a lot of feedback about my potential. (Another aside: I had no obvious potential as an undergraduate. Mostly my professors wished I wouldn't sleep so much in class. I'm not making that up.) I understand that professors like students who show up on time for class, do the reading, fill in the awkward silences in seminars, and compose grammatical sentences in their research papers. And I do like getting feedback on my work, and it is nice to know that I don't sound like a complete idiot when I hold forth in class. Still, once someone starts making positive sounds about a student's work, there's always that specter of "failing to live up to one's potential" hovering in the background.

It's so easy to not live up to your potential in graduate school, maybe because so many people have so much invested in your success. If I listed off the number of people who have some sort of aspirations for my academic career, I'd be here all night. Everyone seems to have somehow magically assessed my potential for academic success, and part of me would love to fail just to make people think twice about the assumptions they make about me. If I could figure out a way to do it without losing my student health insurance, I'd probably give it a try.

So, yesterday I saw a girl get run over and killed by a bus. Or, rather, I didn't see it, even though I was looking right at the bus when it happened. Maybe that's why I'm so upset--it seems like if an 18-year-old girl is going to be killed in front of me, the least I could so is see it. Did I glance away at just the right moment? I can't remember, and what I do remember doesn't seem to match up with what must have happened.

I'm pretty sure I saw the bus come to a stop. I must have, it was turning into the street in front of me. And I think I must have thought, "Oh, it is stopped because a student is crossing even though the bus is trying to turn," or something like that, because I think that a dozen times every time I drive near campus. But I don't really know. I know the bus stopped and eventually I realized it wasn't moving again, but even then, I didn't see. I had a conversation with myself about how it was really a good thing that traffic was stalled because I didn't have much money to put in the meter, so if could spend a few minutes stopped in traffic, that would put me in the parking lot that much closer to five o'clock after which time parking would be free.

I don't know when I really looked at what was in front of me--never, really. It just dawned on me that people weren't moving properly, the people on the sidewalk, I mean. And I remember thinking, "Oh, god, I hope the bus didn't stop because someone jumped off that building and committed suicide." Why would I think that? It doesn't even make sense. Yes, there's a tall building right on that block, but why did I think that (other than the fact that twice people have jumped off buildings right outside my office in the past ten years)? So, I talked to myself about how I hoped no one jumped off the building, and how something bad is obviously going on right here, and if I turned off could I figure out how to get to where I was going? Because I haven't lived here long enough to know how to get anywhere, really.

And by then, of course, I knew it was really bad. I have been trying to figure out exactly how things happened, but it just seems like there were people there, and then there were sirens, and then I was turning off and heading in a different direction. I drove around for a bit, then felt sort of drawn back, so I parked in the library parking lot. I knew it was really bad then, because the police had put up yellow tape to keep traffic out and there was a (second?) ambulance (for the bus driver?). I spent two hours in the library trying not to think about it, but the bus was still there when I came out, waiting for me.

Since I didn't see...it didn't happen. It didn't happen for me until I was walking to school this morning and I saw the flowers on the sidewalk--why didn't I take a different route to school? Why did I stop for coffee before class this morning? I usually don't, and when I don't, I walk up Wright, and then I wouldn't have seen anything this morning.

If I did see anything. I know what I think I saw last night, but I also know it couldn't have happened that way. I know for part of today I remembered the bus facing one way, then for the rest of the day, I remembered it facing the other way, which I think is the right way? It was facing me to the south, right? Well, I know what I didn't see, but I can't figure out how it's possible that someone can be killed right in front of me yet I can't see it. But I didn't see what was right in front of me, and that seems really, really wrong.

I decided quite awhile ago that this wouldn't be another one of those cloak-and-dagger-life-in-academia blogs. You know the ones I'm talkng about? The ones with authors who all seem to be sporting flashy noms de guerre and all refer to their family members with catchy pseudonyms or abbreviations? (Note to those blog people--if you're in academia and you identify your subject of study and the fact that you're in a tenure-track position in a major midwestern state school, I can find you in less than 10 minutes whether you want me to or not.) I hate the kind of rhetoric that floats out from behind these masked identities. People seem to think that because they are "anonymous," they are somehow protected from institutional control, and thus their writing is more "real" and "accessible" since it is "uncensored" and "tells it like it really is." My opinion? We could use a little more self-censorship on the web. If you can get fired for saying it in public, make a choice: either say it outloud anyway and really challenge the system, or keep it to yourself. Speaking out when there is nothing at stake isn't particularly useful. More importantly, it isn't particularly interesting (to me).

That's actually two decisions I made: 1) don't write a whiny "the academy sucks and this is why" blog with a fake name and location (I'm at University of Illinois @ Urbana-Champaign if you couldn't figure that out for yourselves) and 2) never read anonymous blogs again. Decision #1 wasn't particularly drastic--I don't write in any form of journal much anymore, so not going through the effort to write long (yet mysterious) passages on the view from the second floor of the ivory tower isn't exactly a hardship. Decision #2 required some thought, but then I realized, of all the anonymous blogs I read, I only ever enjoy one. I'd much rather read Francis' thoughts on can openers or Josh's take on Rex Morgan than...well...I won't link to the kind of writing that bores me to death. There's critical, and then there's mean, and I'm not in the mood to be mean.

Left Bloomington on Saturday, drove to Illinois w/Garry and Amanda following. G & A did the hard parts of unloading the truck, but at least we took them to dinner at Dom's. Slept on the floor so they could have the bed Saturday night. Too old for this kind of stuff. Trying to get everything organized, Catherine is focusing on the kitchen. Trying to remember this downward mobility is temporary and I'll eventually be back in a nice, clean, stable, lower-middle-class home. Met w/advisors, bought the books, classes start tomorrow. I guess they'll be keeping me busy.

A Lifetime of Birthdays

18th - Nike golf shoes and a golf bag from Village Green in Port Orchard
19th - On the ranch. Elsie's sour cream white sheet cake w/guitar.
20th - Would have been on the ranch. A vague memory of watching TV at my grandmother's.
21st - Just back from the Soviet Union. A barbeque w/my parents and aunt using the green sauce I smuggled out of Soviet Georgia.
22nd - Must have been at my parents in Loomis. Living in Seattle.
23rd - First summer in Bellingham, just back from the Soviet Union. Must have been at my parents.
24th - Leaving for L.A., driving to David's in Eugene from Seattle.
25th - Working for Ron, must have been at my parents in Loomis.
26th - First birthday w/Catherine, Oregon Zoo t-shirt.
27th - Can't really remember.
28th - Can't really remember.
29th - Must have been the year we went to Ashland/Jacksonville. Dinner at the Greenleaf Restaurant.
30th - Woke up puking in Beloit, Wisconsin. Arrived in Bloomington, dinner w/David and Jen, Kes was fed up w/me.
31st - Moving to the house, staying at David and Jen's. Spent the night at the Grant St. Inn, salmon dinner at the Uptown.
32nd - Might have been the year we went to the Indiana State Fair to see Reba.
33rd - Can't really remember.
34th - Can't really remember.
35th - Woke up in a cabin on Skykomish River, went for a run. Drove to Seattle, dinner at the Mongolian barbeque, Catherine bought me a couple of books at Bailey/Coy. Stayed on the MV Challenger, had a daytrip to Tillicum Village. Biggest birthday ever.
36th - Woke up in Pokagon State Park. Catherine gave me Douglas the skunk. Ended up at Bear Creek Farm for the night. Pretty well documented online.
37th - Low key, just back from vacation. Bought an ice-cream cake from Ritter's, had Garry and Amanda over.
38th - Indiana State Fair to see Garrison Keillor. First birthday party ever. Garry and Amanda hosted surprise party w/Diane and Garrett, Henry and Erika. Grace slept on my lap.
39th - Can't really remember, other than the fact that Catherine hooked me up with high-speed internet for a present during the first week of classes.
40th - Dinner with Dana, Craig, Jonah, Evie. Catherine arranged for us to take a sail on the lake while we were in Chicago.
41st - Trip to the National Corvette Museum and Mammoth Cave, Kentucky.
42nd - Bhopal in silence (2009).
43rd - Sugarland w/Little Big Town at the Indiana State Fair, movie (Nanny McPhee Returns), lunch at Bucceto's, chocolate cake.
44th - Bowling. I had to teach on my actual birthday (2011) but Beth W. took me out to dinner (donation by Catherine).
45th - Dinner at Bucceto's, chocolate cake. Mammoth Cave, Kentucky.
46th - Thai food in Charlottesville, first day in Esmont.
47th - Niagara Falls, overnight in Buffalo, moving to Boston.
48th - Attempted to make my own cupcakes. Tropical sprinkles with plastic zoo animals (2015).
49th - Saturday rocket launch with CMASS, Sunday visit to Gropius house, Thai food for dinner, camping the next weekend.
50th - Started the day before with a total solar eclipse! Catherine bought me a Burke whistle, which I played for the first time at the rental house in the Alvord desert. Lisa tried to make a cake, but it ended up as chocolate mousse. Liz drove up from California. When we got back to Massachusetts, there was a Pikachu cake!

51st - Not a big celebration, feeling blue because of Fern and Lee. But another Pikachu cake! Two lovely books from Catherine (a medieval bird book, a book on underwater archaeology). Maynard Community Band concert.

52nd - Catherine bought us tickets for a weekend in Rockport! Summer Celtic Sojourn, "Celtic/Appalachia" and "Strings on Strings." Fantastic! A nice Airbnb in Gloucester. French bakery on the final morning. Pikachu plays the fiddle cake!

53rd - A Happy Pandemic Birthday. Made a peach cobbler. Catherine gave me two Carpenters albums (vinyl), four books (Maya glyphs, Egyptian hieroglyphs, two hiking books), zoo membership, pizza, played bocce.

54th - Camping at Massasoit State Park. Cut short thanks to Hurricane Henri. Run in the rain at the park. Fungarium book, virtual ukulele camp, carrot cake, zoo animal (Vicki the Sloth Bear)

55th - Camping at Lake Dennison, a little bit of stargazing. Lemon cake (1/2 100 days of violin reward), banjo uke. Great bird songbook, Danish string quartet CD.

56th - Another fantastic lemon cake. Went for a boat ride on the Blackstone River on Sunday. A run in the morning, out to dinner in the evening. A Low D Whistle, a book about the East India Co., an alabaster bowl and scarabs from Egypt.

57th - Up at 4:30 for a run (short 4.5 miles, cut-back week while training for NJ 50K). Cute Pokemon card from Catherine. Had a normal work day, violin lesson. Had an S&T folk get-together on Saturday after, with a birthday cake featuring chickens and hay bales. Presents: new blankets, book on women in the Valley of the Kings, sea monster tshirt, running socks, Taylor Swift music books, Shokz headphones.

Tonasket High School Class of 1985 20th Class Reunion.

T minus 7 and counting.

От старых друзей весточки нет, грустно.
А на душе от свежих газет пусто.
И от несвежих - невелика потеха.
Правда вот был армейский дружок - уехал.

Ой-йо, ой-йо, ой-йо.
Ой-йо, ой-йо, ой-йо.

Запил сосед - у них на фабрике стачка.
С чаем беда - осталась одна пачка.
На кухне записка: "Не жди, останусь у Гали".
По телеку рядятся, как дальше жить - достали.

Ой-йо, ой-йо, ой-йо.
Ой-йо, ой-йо, ой-йо.

Скорей бы лед встал. Пошел бы тогда на рыбалку.
Чего бы поймал - знакомым раздал, не жалко.
Луна появилась и лезет настырно все выше и выше.
Сейчас со всей мочи завою с тоски - никто не услышит.

Ой-йо, ой-йо, ой-йо.
A если не услышит, ой-йо!

So that's it, then. My boss handed me my last paycheck, thanked me for my work, and shook my hand in farewell. One year of work--finished. I feel a little sad, because these past two weeks, with the clock running out, I liked my job. It was a lot like it was at the beginning, with a lot to do, much to be taken care of. I'm consoling myself with the knowledge that my affection for this position surely would have been short-lived; reality has a way of showing up again in the end.

My boss is going to be in a world of hurt without me, I can say that. I don't think he's realized how much I've been doing around here. Even worse, I don't think he realized how much more I could have done, if only he'd given me the chance. His loss. Now he doesn't have anyone to help him. Not that I'm irreplaceable, but he'll have a hard time, I think. I'm proud of what I've done in the last year. It's a heady feeling, looking around a construction site, knowing that a certain wall is located just where it is because I told them to put it there. I could have had them put it a half-inch or a half-foot in the other direction, but I didn't. Good, strong stuff.

Anyway, that's over and done with, and we'll just have to see what happens next.

On a partly un-related note, I've decided this is a good time to take an extended vacation from the chore of updating this page. I've been keeping an online life chronicle for four years now, and I stopped learning about myself in the process of doing it about two years ago. For the past six months or so, this journal has been limping along on crippled legs. For the last two months, it's been kept alive only by the internet equivalent of an iron lung. This seems like the right time to let it go for awhile. Feel free to check back in a few months--only about half of the goodbyes in the world turn out to be forever.

We had a great weekend. I am in love with the Raymonster. Seriously.

Yesterday was a surprisingly good day. It's like everything good was waiting to happen on one particular day of the year, and that day of the year was apparently February 28. Who knew?

1. Realizing you don't suck, you just need to get your skates sharpened.

2. Informing your boss in a no-nonsense voice that No, you cannot stay on an extra two weeks.

3. Arriving home to find the order from Powells has *finally* arrived.

4. Being accepted into the grad program of your choice.

5. After two years of fussing, planning, waiting, buying a new drum set.

6. Managing to wash a week's worth of dirty dishes and discovering that you still have time to read before bed.

If I'd known how much better work would be once I'd given my two-week's notice, I would have quit a long time ago. I hand in my resignation, my boss hands me back my dignity. Nice trade. Somewhere in there is a heavy dose of irony, but I don't have time to look for it right now.

In other news, the afghan I'm working on is going well. I've got about a month of crocheting on it ahead of me, but I think it will stretch longer because I'm going to start this one as soon as I get the yarn. Working w/the afghan hook all evening tires out the hands; working a second quilt w/a K-size hook will be a nice alternative.

Anyway...I lack the motivation to document the details of my life, so I'm not going to do it for now. I'm going out of town for the weekend, maybe something so exciting will happen while I'm gone that I will be compelled to return to the keyboard afterward. On the other hand, maybe I'll just return home to my recliner and spend some quality time with a skein of yarn.

It's been a horrible, terrible experience--the kind of time when you find yourself standing on the bank of the river, wondering what it would feel like to drown. At least, that's where I've been the past several weeks. To his credit, my boss didn't make it worse when he could have, and I'm really not sure why, but I'm pretty sure I don't care anyway. In a couple of weeks I'll start a new job, and maybe we'll back away from the flood waters for awhile.

Mary Ann's article.

Asian carpets;
XVI, and XVII, century designs from the Jaipur palaces, &c., &c.,
Thomas Holbein Hendley; S S Jacob, Sir
1905
English Book Book 2 p. l., 20 p. CL (i.e. 145) pl. (part double, chiefly col.) maps. 56 cm.
London, W. Griggs,


Jeypore enamels,
S S Jacob, Sir; Thomas Holbein Hendley
1886
English Book Book 16 p. 28 col. pl. 38 cm.
London, W. Griggs,

Jeypore portfolio of architectural details ...
S S Jacob, Sir
1890-1913
English Book Book 12 v. 713 pl. (part col.) 45 cm. (pt. 1-6: 55 cm.)
London, B. Quaritch [etc.]


Jeypore portfolio of architectural details /
S S Jacob, Sir
1977, 1890
English Book Book portfolios : chiefly ill. ; 39 cm.
Varanasi : Indological Book House,

Impounding-reservoirs in India, and the design of masonry dams.
Comprising ... I. The Tansa works for the water-supply of Bombay. By William John Bird Clerke ... II. The Baroda waterworks. By Jagannath Sadasewjee ... III. The water-supply of Jeypore, Rajputana. By Colonel Samuel Swinton Jacob ... IV. On the design of masonry dams. By Franz Kreuter ... With an abstract of the discussion upon the papers.
James Forrest
1893
English Book Book 71, [1] p. incl. tables, diagrs. 4 fold. diagr. 23 cm.
London, The Institution,

Ask Catherine a question.

My third day home from work, and I still feel like crap. I have to go back to work tomorrow whether I want to or not, we can't afford such a long layoff as this has become. Particularly since Catherine received the lovely news this week that her "benefits" package is being re-worked, resulting in a $130 cut in take-home pay a month. As if she wasn't already being paid half the market value (the university market value, that is, which is about $10,000 less than the real world market value) of her position. A high pressure job with very little to offer in the way of recompense and rewards, if you ask me.

Lots of "what if" conversations going on right now. If we can't pay our mortgage, why not just sell the house? The solution we both seem to like right now is to sell the house and move in with Catherine's parents until we can find jobs in the Portland area. We won't make enough on the house to worry about capital gains tax, but we should make enough to pay for a few months of my student loans, moving expenses, and household expenses while we try to find employment. This seems to be on an early summer kind of timetable, and many things could happen between now and then, but we both think it might be the best thing we can do right now.

To support the Kinsey Institute for Research in Sex, Gender, and Reproduction:

Please contact the appropriate Indiana State Legislator (if you don't know who is representing you, check here), and encourage her or him to stand AGAINST House Bill 1841.

Two people in the household, both watching too much television. Two people in the household, neither getting enough exercise. Two people in the household, both unhappy with their jobs. Two people in the household, one has been sick in bed the past few days and the other has been playing nursemaid. Two people in the household, neither has anything to say.

Photocopying fees: $75.64
Testing feees: $115.00
Application fees: $190.00
Transcript fees: $172.00
Lodging during two interviews: $174.71
Four tutoring sessions: $80.00

Not included: transportation (gasoline, 670 miles), postage, paper/ink

Total expenses to date: $807.35

Model One.

Model Two.

We went down to Madison for the weekend, courtesy of my parents. We almost didn't go, as there was snow on the ground when we got up Saturday morning, and the route we intended to take was underwater from the flooding on the White River (see below), but we went anyway. Mostly there's not a lot to write about, because this is our third or fourth visit in as many years. Usually we stay up at Clifty Falls State Park, but the lodge is under construction now, so Catherine cut a deal with the owner of the Madison Fudge Factory and we stayed in a room above the candy store. It came with 1/2 pound of free fudge, as if we haven't had enough sugar in the past month.

We originally started visiting Madison because of the architecture and the park, but the truth is, we come back because movies at the downtown theater are only $3.50. We finally saw The Incredibles (great animation, good writing, so-so plot) Saturday night, and then went out for pizza afterward. It can be hard to find a meal in Madison this time a year, everything is closed for the winter, but when you do find them, they're all good.

The Ohio River is supposed to crest on Wednesday. In the meantime, it seems to be rising about a foot a day (based on our unscientific observations). Between our noontime walk along the bank and our 3 o'clock walk, the river had risen at least two inches, so it may be picking up speed.

Catherine at the river Saturday afternoon:



Same spot, Sunday afternoon:

Left work early on Thursday, just before they closed Ind. 46.

Driving west over the White River, looking across at the eastbound bridge:



Things look normal, but we're being re-routed out of our lanes into lanes that are normally eastbound:



The westbound lanes are threatened by the river:



One westbound lanes is underwater, the other and the turn lane are still there:



Two lanes under, turn lane still remains:



No lanes, all under water:



It won't be long until the eastbound lanes are under as well, but I'll be gone before that happens:

No internet access at home. We should probably call SBC about our phone line, but since they've already fixed it five different times in the past year, I can't see why I should waste my time. I should probably just have it disconnected and give up the modem connection entirely. I'd probably get more done in the evenings.

Or maybe not, as I've spent the past several days doing absolutely nothing even without the distraction of the internet at my fingertips. I think I chipped my humerus on New Year's Day (thanks so much, oh ye gods of arthritis), so I've expended a lot of energy toward keeping my body motionless. One good result of this event is that I learned that the plural of "humerus" is "humeri." Almost it makes it worth it, doesn't it? Anyway, I've got an appointment with the orthopedic surgeon on Monday, so we'll soon see what's what.

Tomorrow is Catherine's birthday.

Rob, you depress me.

Wow. That was depressing.

Usually when you go out to dinner with friends, you end up feeling better in the end, having had an opportunity to talk and laugh and complain and eat. Last night, though, we all left the table feeling lower than the lowest you can go. We kept trying to pull the conversation back up to some level of cheerfulness, but it seemed to repeatedly devolve--almost willfully--to a point where we were all hovering on tears. Actually, we had a moment where all four of us were indeed crying and had to just have a moment of choking silence while we pulled ourselves together. What kind of happy meal was this? Tired, drained and seriously depressed.

It's too bad that I forgot to take out the digital camera yesterday. Christmas 2004 passed without any photos, and it would have been nice to at least get some of Erika and Henry at dinner last night.

I did a whole lot of cooking yesterday (demonstrating that just because I don't cook, that doesn't mean that I can't cook). I think I managed to do 80% of the cooking in the end, but Catherine did more than 80% of the cleaning. Anyway, I did the onions, the rice salad, and the carrots, and also the finish work for the gratins. Catherine did the bulk of the gratins and the wine. We accidentally managed to cook all of Henry's favorites (although I'm not sure that's all that difficult, as he seems to be willing to eat anything). Erika made bread and a chocolate ganache w/violet syrup, and we all ate until the point of nausea. Then Catherine and I stayed up way too late and watched The Sound of Music.

We had so many Christmas presents even though we really didn't buy that much for each other. We must be cultivating good relationships with people other than ourselves. I managed to make Catherine cry three times yesterday (in the good way) while she was opening presents. Even taking into account the fact that she's menopausal, that's pretty good. My parents went *crazy* with the gift-giving, and my workshop will benefit from it. Catherine's "big" gift to me was a table-top easel. She promises me it was on sale, but I'm not sure she's telling the truth. Still, I love it, and it will be good to trade in my piece of Masonite propped up on an outdated AutoCAD book. I ended up w/some good reading material, too. Catherine got me Oliver Twist and a collection of Poe stories, and the new two-volume set The Complete Peanuts to add to the Charlie Brown section of the bookshelf. And a friend sent me a book that should keep me busy in one way or another for awhile, too.

Today, I lack the Christmas spirit because my boss made me work, and I'm trying not to have a bad attitude about it (and not succeeding). There are so many other things to worry about in the world--jesus fucking christ, that tsunami, for one!--and this job is just a temporary burden, and I need to just let it all go. If I hadn't already have resolved to give up fast food for the New Year, I'd have to make a resolution to not let my boss get to me. Maybe there's room for two resolutions in my life. Happy New Year.

Ah. It took us two hours to get our car out this morning, and that was with four of us working on the problem. We'd still be out there if it wasn't for Garry and Amanda, I'm telling you. Garry ran his Jeep up and down our driveway a few times to give us a trail, but the snow was still too deep for our little Toyota. We pretty much had to shovel out the entire driveway, garage to road. You know what? That's a long way.

After we got our car to the patch of clear space by the road (Catherine spent two hours digging out a space yesterday), we went across the street and helped the neighbors there get their car out. It went a little quicker than ours because their Nissan had a slightly higher clearance, and their driveway isn't uphill.

After that, we went to Garett and Diane's to feed their cats, and yes, to shovel their walks. I didn't do what I should have done, which was clear the sidewalk along the entire length of their property. My collar bone is killing me right now, so I'm glad I just did their stairs and a path to the road and called it a day. My sinus infection seems better, my shoulder seems a lot worse. That's about breaking even, I think. Not bad considering all the time I spent in 10 degree weather.

Because of all the snow, it took forever to run four simple errands today: 1) feed the cats; 2) go buy a couple more Christmas presents at the bookstore; 3) buy four ramekins for Christmas dinner; and 4) buy a few groceries for Christmas dinner. We tried to leave our house at 10:00, shoveled snow for two hours instead, and didn't get home until 4:30. And now we must clean.

However, I am absolved from vacuuming due to the egg-sized swell-up on my right shoulder. And I may not scrub the shower, the company won't notice.

Looking forward to opening presents tomorrow, we've got a stack of interesting things from each other, but also from friends and relatives. We've been saving them all up to make a better pile under the ficus tree (except for Catherine's parents' present, which we knew ahead of time would be perishable). We might open the ones from my parents this evening, mostly because the stack is getting embarrassingly large.

Christmas menu is set. That is to wit:

Butternut Squash and Leek Gratins
Carrot Coins w/Maple-Balsamic Browned Butter
Cold Rice Salad
Peppery Baked Onions with Sage and Gruyere
Bread (supplied by others)
Mulled Wine
Dessert (supplied by others)

If you're coming to dinner, bring your slippers because our floors are cold, cold, cold.

Okay, okay, I'm up. But don't expect me to be fulfilling any of my social obligations at this point. 1) I've got a fever; and 2) there's two feet of snow on the ground and what do you want me to do about it?

We have to go out to the store tomorrow, and I have to be fine by Saturday at six, because we're having friends over for Christmas dinner. We might be having our neighbors over, too, if they can't go home because of the weather. So today is another day of sick time, and maybe tomorrow I'll get up and talk to you all.

That head cold? Now a sinus infection. I'm off to bed w/my antibiotics and my blanket.

Well, I like working closer to home, but I've been putting in a lot of hours. I'm going to see if I can trade some of these hours for comp time instead of money. As much as I want/need the money, I'd also like to have a three day weekend for Christmas. I've worked enough hours for a four+ day weekend, but three days will do me.

Today after work, we made and decorated Christmas cookies for the neighbors next door to us and the ones across the street. On Tuesday I'll do some for my boss. Then my Christmas obligations will be over except for about five Christmas cards.

Bought a cooking magazine today to see if we could do something different for Christmas dinner. Catherine's pretty much set on making a corn pudding, but we couldn't think of anything else. The magazine helped. We've decided on Butternut Squash and Leek Gratins, Carrots w/ Maple-Basalmic butter, and baked onions, either our regular recipe or "Peppery Baked Onions w/Sage and Gruyere." Probably go w/a combination of the two. Dessert probably is a little unnecessary--at least it feels that way after bingeing on Christmas cookies this evening. Might just settle for hot chocolate w/peppermint whipped cream like last year.

We got the coolest gift from Alaska today. We used to just exchange food (Michelle makes awesome fireweed jelly), but for the past few years, we've been trying different things. This year we got some smoked salmon and a fantastic bowl made at a pottery near Michelle's parents' house. But the really cool thing was this salmon Christmas ornament made of...I don't even know what. It's hiding in our ficus right now, watching over our Christmas presents.

I remembered that I also sent an Eid card. That's pretty good, then. In the space of a couple weeks, I managed to touch on all three religions of the Book, plus paganism, agnosticism, and atheism. Happy Holidays.

Earlier this week--and I wish I was making this up, but I'm not--I did a Google search on "what to say in a Christmas card." Unfortunately, I didn't find anything to help me out (although 'Tis the Season did make me laugh). Really, if I'm going to the internet looking for help, maybe it's time to re-examine a few of my relationships.

An old photo, but I recognized her.

Well, my work situation is a bit weird right now.

How did I get my job? I actually applied to work at a different office. They weren't advertising, but Catherine finally convinced me to send an unsolicited resume, based on the fact that I liked the firm's work, and it was conveniently located (ie., in the same town in which I live). Amazingly, they called me in for an interview, and told me it would be very likely that I would be hired. I'm not sure what happened then, why I wasn't hired. A few weeks later, my current employer called me, said my resume had been forwarded to him, and would I like to come in for an interview? The timing wasn't great because of my shoulder surgery, but I finally had a job.

Fast forward to today. I'm on the verge of being laid off because things are slow. Industry slow down, or poor planning on the part of my boss? I'm not sure. I haven't had any work for about three weeks now, and for the last week, my boss has been hiring me out to the firm that didn't hire me in the first place. It's crazy--I've been picking up work in Bloomington, then driving an hour to Columbus to the office there, then bringing the finished work back to Bloomington with me to drop off here. At least it's work, and I'm guessing my boss is hiring me out at a rate that will make him a profit.

Today, though, just as I was leaving for work, the Bloomington office called me at home and said I wouldn't be going to Columbus today, they'd already talked to my boss and decided I would work in the Bloomington office. I suppose I should have been ecstatic to have escaped the commute, but instead, I felt a lot like a piece of property. It didn't occur to anyone that I had other plans, did it? And, in fact, I did, but no one asked about them. I'm also going to be in Bloomington tomorrow, but I have to drive to Columbus after work to get my paycheck. I just can't wait until Monday (and besides, I might be in Bloomington again on Monday), I have somewhere between 5-10 dollars in my bank account right now.

So, I'm a little annoyed at this, but on the other hand, it's good to be really busy instead of spending the day just trying to look busy. And it's good to be in another office to see how their standards work, and how they produce construction documents. And it's also good to hear that I'm not the incompetent my boss makes me out to be. I heard the project manager complaining today that I work too quickly, he can't keep up with me. The principal also said she'd heard that I was quick, and I think quickness counts (especially if it's partnered w/accuracty, which it is). I know they can afford to flatter because I'm not part of the design team, but it's still nice to get some positive feedback at a time when I just don't like how I'm feeling about the field.

And speaking of family....

When I'm really stressed, I shiver, and I usually end up quaking when I try to sustain a lengthy phone conversation. Phones really do it to me. Even when talking to friends, I can shudder as if standing in a freezer, and I generally end up under the blankets, as if heat can dissipate the tension in my body.

So, imagine how my poor arthritic shoulders feel after a long political discussion with my father. I never, ever NEVER talk politics with my dad. Not since the first Gulf War, when he stopped talking to me for six months because of our difference of opinion. But what do you do when someone asks you point blank, "What do you think of the war in Iraq?" It's hard to change the subject. I know, because I tried.

By the time we'd finished, I thought my skeleton was going to shake itself free of the ligaments holding it together. It's funny. We generally share the same opinion about the war, but still, I felt like he was arguing with me. At least he didn't seem too angry when he pointed out our votes will always cancel each other out in an election. That's probably not true, but I'm not about to deliberately go deeper into political waters by trying to explain that I'm not a single party or single issue voter.

Ah. I'm shivering again. Time to hang it up for the night.

Christmas tends to be an invisible holiday for us. Christmas isn't a "my family is your family" sort of occasion. No one invites non-relatives to Christmas dinner, not like they do for Thanksgiving, so we spend it alone, since there's no family near. We do mostly what we'd do on any weekend: sleep in, eat junk food, watch movies, read, with the added bonus of a few new toys with which to play. It puts us a little at odds with the rhythms of everyone else's holiday, since everyone else tends to have an intensely social, relative-heavy day. We get a bit wistful at the end of every year, first for Thanksgiving (although the family in Valparaiso substitutes nicely for our own), and then for Christmas. Wouldn't it be great to be home for Christmas?

Except, you know, it wouldn't. I'm too old to make that 12-hour drive over the mountains in the snow between Catherine's parents' and my parents' homes. I'm too fragile to spend time with my family, I haven't even recovered from our visit in August. Not at all, really, making this a record-length period of licking my wounds. It's easy to idealize when you're 2000 miles away, you can imagine all sorts of things. But if you do, and you let yourself believe them, you're only going to be disappointed if you try to make them come true.

At any rate, I just need to box up the presents for my mom and dad, and I can give into this head cold. I've mailed all the rest of the presents, and I'm about 1/2 way through the Christmas/Winter Solstice/New Year's/sorry-I-know-Hanukkah-isn't-a-major-Jewish-holiday-but-I-can't-leave-you-out-of my-holiday-thoughts cards. I'm ahead of last year, anyway.

I hope someone gives me warm socks for Christmas because I really need them.

A few months ago, a friend told me that he preferred the time when I had a regular site that I updated every now and then rather than an online journal. More specifically, he liked the page w/my reading list. If he wants to know what I'm reading now, he has to search through paragraphs of absolutely irrelevant data to find it, if it's there at all. That's the problem, really. I seldom write anything about what I'm reading, so even if he takes the time to search, he's not going to find anything.

The problem is, the way I read, it's almost impossible to set a book review out in type. I finish 5-6 books a week, on average. I usually have 8-10 going at once, one to three (or more, in the living room) in every room of the house, and a couple in the car. If I finish a book at lunch, and think, "Oh, I should write a review about this," by the time I get to the computer at night, I've already started a new book and read chunks of one or two others, so I can't possibly remember what I wanted to say at lunch time.

The way I read keeps me from drawing firm conclusions about the material. For instance, right now I'm reading three different Alice Munro books. How can I possibly separate one from the other when I'm reading, especially since they're so thick w/regionalism? It can't be done, not by me. And usually what I think about a book is largely dependent on its relationship to another book I've recently read. I finished _Old School_ by Tobias Wolff last week, and my impression of it was certainly colored by the fact that I'd recently read _The Fountainhead_. If I'd just last week re-read _Old Man and the Sea_, I would have focused more intently on the third part of the book (and perhaps if I'd recently re-read _Old Man and the Sea_, I'd understand the odd structure of the book, the "Master" chapter tacked on the end). A couple of weeks ago, I simultaneously read three books about earthquakes, and without a doubt, two of the three suffered in comparison with the one I started first because it was the most technical, presented in a very linear fashion that allowed me to flip forward and backward to easily cross-check information. So, it's difficult for me to evaluate any one book as a work of writing in and of itself, my judgement is too actively and too often clouded by everything else I'm reading.

I've lately been thinking that I need to do something else besides read. I can't empty my mind of what I've been reading quickly enough to get to sleep on time. I'm late everywhere I go, because I always try to get in a few more sentences. Right now I'm listening to a book on tape in the car during my commute, but reading the same book at lunch to hurry the process along so I can move on to something else. It's starting to feel like obsessive behavior, and that's not good. So maybe I should declare a moratorium on reading for a bit, and see what else I can do to keep myself busy during my lunch hour.

Why I hate my job.

I hate my job because I'm so ashamed of the way I'm being treated that I can't even bring myself to write about it for fear someone will read it and think less of me for allowing myself to be treated this way.

That's why I hate my job.

The news today reminds me that I saw a building catch on fire this weekend. Or, more notably, I *didn't* see a building catch on fire this weekend, even though I was standing right next to it. Looking back, I suppose I did smell smoke, but apparently that's not enough to trigger any fight-or-flight instinct I might have. I eventually recognized the air was growing more smoky, but it wasn't until the fire engine roared up that I realized, hey, I can't breathe anymore. By that time, there were flames shooting out the windows, black smoke billowing into the street, fire hoses spraying. God knows what would have happened if I'd been inside the building rather than just standing across the street from it. Maybe I would have recognized the danger signs just a bit more quickly. Maybe not.

Spent mostly a solitary weekend in Manhattan. Catherine's workshop was a success, but that's her story, so I'll let her tell it if she wants to do so. My story is much more straight-forward and involves a lot of silence, since I spent the weekend walking around by myself.

Arrived in midtown Manhattan really late Wednesday night, so late that it was actually Thursday morning. I'm not all about midtown, in case anyone's wondering, because midtown is all about money and shopping. Even if I had money, I wouldn't waste it shopping. But Catherine's class started out at NYU on 42nd, so that's where we were for the weekend, and since there was nowhere I really needed to be, that's as good as place as any from which to start.

Thursday was ours, so we went up to American Museum of Natural History for the day. Catherine made an appointment with one of the entomologists so we could spend some time "behind the scenes" with Alfred Kinsey's gall wasp collection. The collection is kind of amazing simply because it is so extensive, but it's a little difficult to appreciate gall wasp variation w/out a microscope. Still, the curator told us quite a bit about them, and then took us over to look at his specialty, the bees. We learned a lot we didn't know about social, solitary and parasitic bees, and looked at some really neat bees from central and south america.

We spent the rest of the day at the museum. I think the museum is overpriced in a way. You think--well, the collections are huge, it's worth the money, but they really only give you about seven hours of viewing time (if you take 45 minutes at some point in the day to eat and use the bathroom). If it had longer opening hours, I would have been more satisfied. Actually, I guess $13 isn't bad, but if you want to go to the planetarium, that's another $9. Or if you want to see any of the visiting exhibitions, like the frogs, that's an additional $6. Anyway, if I lived in New York, I guess I'd have a season pass and then it would be very economical, but as a tourist, I'm not sure if it was worth it or not, since we only saw about 1/6 of what was there.

Catherine had an evening meeting at the Museum of Sex, anyway, so I guess we couldn't have stayed at the museum even if it had been open until 9 p.m. Then we had dinner at the Japanese restaurant next door to our hotel, which I would recommend if I could remember the name of it. Also, I ate an Eli Zabar solar system (even though it was promoted as a galaxy).

Friday and Saturday I was on my own while Catherine was doing her exhibition design stuff. I started at the New York Public Library, at which I spent about an hour at the Newton exhibit. I almost bought the catalog, but I think I'd rather just buy a good book on Newton. I think you'd probably have to visit three or four times to really "get" the exhibit, but then again, I think it was aimed at people who didn't know much about Newton, so maybe not.

I spent most of the day after that just walking. I walked up the east side of the park, and back part way. Then I just spent a lot of time in midtown Manhattan waiting for Catherine to get back from class. I was really worn out, and I thought I was just out of shape, but I ran it through mapquest this morning and my north-south movement alone covered 9 miles. Obviously, my east-west movement wasn't as extensive, but I think I walked about a half-marathon with a pack full of books on my back, so that's okay.

I should have stopped walking on Friday and gone to the Cooper Hewitt or the Whitney, especially as I found out on Sunday there was a Noguchi show at the Whitney, but I didn't. We thought we might go to MoMA Friday night, but it was free night, so there were thousands of people waiting to get inside. My relationship--intellectual, emotional and otherwise--with MoMA is a bit complex, and I guess I'm not sorry I didn't have the chance to darken their doorway this weekend. I'm all about Modern art and all, but not all about MoMA.

More Japanese food for dinner on Friday.

Saturday I walked up to Central Park (because I obviously didn't walk far enough on Friday) and skated for a couple of hours. It was a pretty decent agility test, like being caught on a huge, moving obstacle course. Lots and lots of children. I probably should have gone to Lasker. One of the skate guards was pretty good looking, though, so that made it worth my time. I thought about asking her where she came by her skate cred, but it would have just been flirting and she was getting enough action from the other skate guards.

Spent most of the afternoon walking and reading at the Coliseum Books cafe. Picked up some spices for Garry and Amanda. Sat in the hotel and read and watched Love Don't Cost a Thing, which I just saw a few weeks ago w/white people, only it was called Can't Buy Me Love. Why would anyone remake such a movie? It boggles. It didn't keep me from reading my book, I can say that.

We ate an early dinner at Porta Rossa, very decent Italian food right around the corner from our hotel. When we got back to the hotel, Catherine watched Love Don't Cost a Thing, which, again, did not take me away from my book.

Mostly I slept on Sunday. We talked about getting up and going to the UN, but decided to just have a leisurely morning instead. A smooth afternoon flight, I didn't lose my car keys despite my stupidity, and the cats were fine when we got home.

To summarize:

I didn't shop.

I didn't see any shows.

I didn't spend much money.

The corollary to that, of course, is: I didn't go to MoMA.

I didn't talk to any strangers.

I did make snap judgements about people around me based on their cell phone and face-to-face conversations.

I did find a place for dogpoet to get another blue cup.

I did avoid every Falun Gong member that tried to approach me.

I did admire the sharp lines of the Salvation Army women.

I didn't do enough to really warrant a journal entry.

And tomorrow we're off to New York, because of course I can afford to take two days of LWOP during two consecutive weeks. The question now is: do I save a few dollars while I'm there by skating at Lasker Rink instead of Wollman Rink? Safety v. four dollars....hm...tough call.

I just realized that I missed my three-year anniversary of being off Coke (the drink, not the powder).