Mizz Information
Nobody ever reads my other blog, Mizz Information, so I may as well re-purpose what I've written there lately and save myself the effort of writing anything here.
How's that for both self-serving and lazy?
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
Don't Say They Didn't Warn You
Last week I heard something on the radio about the FDA taking another look at the safety of Lasik. I never did catch the full story, but was sufficiently curious that I checked out the Washington Post's archive and found a few articles about it.
Apparently "in fury and despair," some angry Lasik patients went before federal health advisers to recommend that the government warn more clearly about the risks of the surgery.
I don't get it--anyone who does two seconds of research about Lasik knows about the possibility of halos and dry eyes. A few months ago I wrote about my Lasik experience and the resulting dry eyes and less-than-perfect vision. I mean, I guess I could hold the surgeon accountable for my complications--one of the main reasons I wanted Lasik in the first place was because my eyes were so dry contacts were a nightmare. Also, I had large pupils. He did know about these things and still did the surgery--but then again, I knew about these things and still elected to have the surgery.
How much of this is about the doctors wanting to make a profit and risking patients' eye health as a result and how much is it about people wanting perfect vision at any cost? How many patients, if told by a doctor that they weren't good candidates for the procedure would seek another opinion and, if that doctor told them it would be fine, would go ahead and have it? I'd be willing to bet at least half would go ahead despite the warnings.
I--and I'm sure I'm not the only one--just wanted what everyone who opts to get Lasik wants: to be able to see perfectly without glasses or contacts. Was I guaranteed a perfect, complication-free result? Absolutely not. Sure, chances were that I'd be fine like the majority of people who have it and wake up with 20/20 vision and never give it another thought--but did anyone promise me that? Not at all. Granted, while they don't gloss over the warnings per se, they do do the "don't worry--complications are very rare" thing.
I'll tell you one thing, though--they sure won't touch my eyes now. I've gone back a few times hoping they could "tweak" my vision--which I think is about 20/40 but they now claim I have a predisposition to complications and am no longer a candidate. If that's not a cover your ass, I don't know what is--but somehow they didn't realize I had this "predisposition" to complications before I had the surgery. I guess you can only be predisposed AFTER you've already had the complications.
At any rate, even with my dry eyes and halos and need for light prescription contacts or glasses, if I could go back in time I'd still have had the surgery. To me while yes, it's annoying that I don't have 20/20 vision with no dry eyes at all, it was crippling to have vision so bad I couldn't see my glasses on the table in front of me or read a shampoo bottle in the shower. Before I had Lasik, if I had been on a desert island and my glasses had broken I would have been totally SOL; now I'd be fine, and to me that's worth having to use eye drops and wear contacts or glasses if I want to see 20/20.
Last week I heard something on the radio about the FDA taking another look at the safety of Lasik. I never did catch the full story, but was sufficiently curious that I checked out the Washington Post's archive and found a few articles about it.
Apparently "in fury and despair," some angry Lasik patients went before federal health advisers to recommend that the government warn more clearly about the risks of the surgery.
I don't get it--anyone who does two seconds of research about Lasik knows about the possibility of halos and dry eyes. A few months ago I wrote about my Lasik experience and the resulting dry eyes and less-than-perfect vision. I mean, I guess I could hold the surgeon accountable for my complications--one of the main reasons I wanted Lasik in the first place was because my eyes were so dry contacts were a nightmare. Also, I had large pupils. He did know about these things and still did the surgery--but then again, I knew about these things and still elected to have the surgery.
How much of this is about the doctors wanting to make a profit and risking patients' eye health as a result and how much is it about people wanting perfect vision at any cost? How many patients, if told by a doctor that they weren't good candidates for the procedure would seek another opinion and, if that doctor told them it would be fine, would go ahead and have it? I'd be willing to bet at least half would go ahead despite the warnings.
I--and I'm sure I'm not the only one--just wanted what everyone who opts to get Lasik wants: to be able to see perfectly without glasses or contacts. Was I guaranteed a perfect, complication-free result? Absolutely not. Sure, chances were that I'd be fine like the majority of people who have it and wake up with 20/20 vision and never give it another thought--but did anyone promise me that? Not at all. Granted, while they don't gloss over the warnings per se, they do do the "don't worry--complications are very rare" thing.
I'll tell you one thing, though--they sure won't touch my eyes now. I've gone back a few times hoping they could "tweak" my vision--which I think is about 20/40 but they now claim I have a predisposition to complications and am no longer a candidate. If that's not a cover your ass, I don't know what is--but somehow they didn't realize I had this "predisposition" to complications before I had the surgery. I guess you can only be predisposed AFTER you've already had the complications.
At any rate, even with my dry eyes and halos and need for light prescription contacts or glasses, if I could go back in time I'd still have had the surgery. To me while yes, it's annoying that I don't have 20/20 vision with no dry eyes at all, it was crippling to have vision so bad I couldn't see my glasses on the table in front of me or read a shampoo bottle in the shower. Before I had Lasik, if I had been on a desert island and my glasses had broken I would have been totally SOL; now I'd be fine, and to me that's worth having to use eye drops and wear contacts or glasses if I want to see 20/20.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The Bottle Whisperer
Today's Washington Post features DC's "Breast Whisperer"--a $150 an hour lactation consultant who saves new moms from resorting to the unthinkable: bottle feeding. She is booked around the clock with $150 home visits and $85 an hour office appointments--all told she sees about 80 women a week, according to the article. Don't think she's in it for the money, though--the article points out that she magnanimously reserves two free visits a week for low-income families!
No, she's not in it for the money--the article says that her message is:
I think she's onto something--not with her opinion that breastfeeding is the end all, be all--but that women are willing to pay top dollar to have someone help them feed their babies. I will spare you my rant about why I'm sick to death of hearing how "breast is best" and how breastfed babies never get sick or have allergies and are all geniuses. Suffice it to say that back when I had Mimi I was just like the women in this article--brainwashed to think that not breastfeeding your baby was tantamount to feeding it Drano and any mom who wasn't willing to go to whatever length necessary to breastfeed for at least a year deserved to have her baby taken away from her.
I did everything in my attempt to keep breastfeeding through severe postpartum depression and nipples that were basically dangling by bloody threads as a result of Mimi's bad "latch": I forked out money to a lactation consultant who sent me home with a hospital grade breast pump (even though I was home full-time with my baby and had enough milk to feed 5 babies) and detailed instructions to do something to my nipples pretty much every waking hour of the day: soak them in soup bowls of warm water, blow dry them, put neosporin on them, put antifungal cream on them (just in case I had thrush, even though neither I nor Mimi had any symptoms of it), put hot compresses on them, put cold compresses on them--oh, and walk around without a shirt or bra on anytime I was home.
Thinking back to that time just makes me shudder--I was such a mess and drove myself absolutely crazy obsessively trying to ignore my bleeding, mangled nipples and do what good moms do: breastfeed my baby. When, after 6 weeks, the psychiatrist declared that I needed to either go on medication or be hospitalized, I dejectedly called the lactation consultant to get her guidance on how to wean the baby--because everyone knows you can't just quit cold-turkey. Like a salesperson trying to prevent a customer from walking away from a sale, she helpfully pointed out--and this is not a joke or an exaggeration; these were her EXACT words:
But I digress...I forgot I said I'd spare you the rant. At any rate, I think I should go into business as a bottle-feeding consultant. That's a service that society is severely lacking; someone to tell you that the world won't end if you decide not to breastfeed your baby. I could offer anecdotes about all the breastfed babies who actually end up not actually having immune systems of steel--I mean, seriously--do you honestly think that every single one of the millions of kids who are deathly allergic to peanuts or milk or dust or who knows what was bottle fed? I could compile lists of geniuses throughout history who never tasted so much as a drop of breastmilk.
Seriously--for every woman out there desperate to spend any amount of money to have someone be her breastfeeding cheerleader, there is another who'd pay just as much to have someone reassure her she's not a monster or a bad mom for wanting to feed her baby formula. For $150 an hour, I could be that woman.
Today's Washington Post features DC's "Breast Whisperer"--a $150 an hour lactation consultant who saves new moms from resorting to the unthinkable: bottle feeding. She is booked around the clock with $150 home visits and $85 an hour office appointments--all told she sees about 80 women a week, according to the article. Don't think she's in it for the money, though--the article points out that she magnanimously reserves two free visits a week for low-income families!
No, she's not in it for the money--the article says that her message is:
Breast-feeding may not always be easy, but it's the healthiest option for babies' development and immune systems, as well as for their mothers' stress levels and improved protection against some cancers.
I think she's onto something--not with her opinion that breastfeeding is the end all, be all--but that women are willing to pay top dollar to have someone help them feed their babies. I will spare you my rant about why I'm sick to death of hearing how "breast is best" and how breastfed babies never get sick or have allergies and are all geniuses. Suffice it to say that back when I had Mimi I was just like the women in this article--brainwashed to think that not breastfeeding your baby was tantamount to feeding it Drano and any mom who wasn't willing to go to whatever length necessary to breastfeed for at least a year deserved to have her baby taken away from her.
I did everything in my attempt to keep breastfeeding through severe postpartum depression and nipples that were basically dangling by bloody threads as a result of Mimi's bad "latch": I forked out money to a lactation consultant who sent me home with a hospital grade breast pump (even though I was home full-time with my baby and had enough milk to feed 5 babies) and detailed instructions to do something to my nipples pretty much every waking hour of the day: soak them in soup bowls of warm water, blow dry them, put neosporin on them, put antifungal cream on them (just in case I had thrush, even though neither I nor Mimi had any symptoms of it), put hot compresses on them, put cold compresses on them--oh, and walk around without a shirt or bra on anytime I was home.
Thinking back to that time just makes me shudder--I was such a mess and drove myself absolutely crazy obsessively trying to ignore my bleeding, mangled nipples and do what good moms do: breastfeed my baby. When, after 6 weeks, the psychiatrist declared that I needed to either go on medication or be hospitalized, I dejectedly called the lactation consultant to get her guidance on how to wean the baby--because everyone knows you can't just quit cold-turkey. Like a salesperson trying to prevent a customer from walking away from a sale, she helpfully pointed out--and this is not a joke or an exaggeration; these were her EXACT words:
"Sometimes formula-fed babies sleep so deeply they never wake up."
But I digress...I forgot I said I'd spare you the rant. At any rate, I think I should go into business as a bottle-feeding consultant. That's a service that society is severely lacking; someone to tell you that the world won't end if you decide not to breastfeed your baby. I could offer anecdotes about all the breastfed babies who actually end up not actually having immune systems of steel--I mean, seriously--do you honestly think that every single one of the millions of kids who are deathly allergic to peanuts or milk or dust or who knows what was bottle fed? I could compile lists of geniuses throughout history who never tasted so much as a drop of breastmilk.
Seriously--for every woman out there desperate to spend any amount of money to have someone be her breastfeeding cheerleader, there is another who'd pay just as much to have someone reassure her she's not a monster or a bad mom for wanting to feed her baby formula. For $150 an hour, I could be that woman.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Tick Tock--and Augusten
I haven't been writing in here much because I'm distracted waiting to hear about something that I can't write about yet. And no, I'm not pregnant so don't go thinking it's that.
Oh, and sadly, it's not a 6-figure (or any figure) book deal either.
In an attempt to distract myself I checked Augusten's website to see when he's coming to DC and THANK GOD it's changed from May 19 to May 20. May 19 is Mimi's birthday and I don't think 12 year old girls react too well to their moms having to take a pass on birthday dinner to go to meet Augusten. Maybe I could have convinced her that she, too, wanted to go meet him; Matthew was listening to Magical Thinking with me in the car and was riveted to the story about Augusten being in a Tang commercial when he was a kid. It's a given that she'll be her snarky self anyway, so no matter what we do it will be met with attitude anyway. Remember Wednesday Adams? That stone faced look and constant world-weary attitude? Yeah, that's Mimi.
Anyway, it looks like he's coming May 20th instead so all is right in the world. Here is an article about him and his new book in the New York Times.
In the meantime, I just ordered 4 books he recommends highly in his blog:
I haven't been writing in here much because I'm distracted waiting to hear about something that I can't write about yet. And no, I'm not pregnant so don't go thinking it's that.
Oh, and sadly, it's not a 6-figure (or any figure) book deal either.
In an attempt to distract myself I checked Augusten's website to see when he's coming to DC and THANK GOD it's changed from May 19 to May 20. May 19 is Mimi's birthday and I don't think 12 year old girls react too well to their moms having to take a pass on birthday dinner to go to meet Augusten. Maybe I could have convinced her that she, too, wanted to go meet him; Matthew was listening to Magical Thinking with me in the car and was riveted to the story about Augusten being in a Tang commercial when he was a kid. It's a given that she'll be her snarky self anyway, so no matter what we do it will be met with attitude anyway. Remember Wednesday Adams? That stone faced look and constant world-weary attitude? Yeah, that's Mimi.
Anyway, it looks like he's coming May 20th instead so all is right in the world. Here is an article about him and his new book in the New York Times.
In the meantime, I just ordered 4 books he recommends highly in his blog:
A Girl Named Zippy and She Got Up Off the Couch: And Other Heroic Acts from Mooreland, Indiana by Haven Kimmel.
Split: A Memoir of Divorce by Suzanne Finnamore
The Day I Ate Whatever I Wanted: And Other Small Acts of Liberation by Elizabeth Berg
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Is Twitter the Equivalent of Trash Art?
As you may have noticed on the sidebar on the right side of this page I am now "Tweeting" (or is it twittering?). I started doing it because every day I read several marketing newsletters and many blogs and social media is basically the only thing any of them talk about. For those of you who are not receiving marketing newsletters daily and don't know the first thing about marketing--or care to know it--Wikipedia defines it as:
In other words, Facebook, MySpace, blogging, etc, etc.
I could go on and on, but I'll spare you--if you want to learn more about it you can read my other blog, Mizz Information, or google it and you too can become an "expert" (I have written 3 articles for EzineArticles and am now an "Expert").
At any rate, lately all I seemed to be reading about was Twitter. Don't ask me why but it's apparently considered to be a trend or asset in the business world, so in an effort to always keep my resume fresh, naturally I had to get with the times and start tweeting.
Two things about Twitter: first, I have no idea what the actual value of it is. I personally see it as sort of an art form reminiscent of a gumball machine that dispensed--for a quarter--pieces of trash in little plastic balls. In other words, I see Twitter as a completely FIO way of being some kind of modern day poet.
The thing is, like Christopher Goodwin's gumballs (see link above), ultimately people's tweets seem to me to be the literary version of small pieces of trash encapsulated in little plastic bubbles. Take a look at my "tweets" in the sidebar: you basically have I think 150 characters to make some kind of witty quip or otherwise somehow relevant observation. I like it because I personally am entertained by my own witty quips, but as far as the overall point or value of Twitter, I'm stumped.
It's funny to me the way people I see as being big guns in the business or marketing worlds seem to place a high level of importance on social media stuff I think of as relevant only to teenagers. Penelope Trunk, uber business woman and 6-figure blog to book deal getter, is doing it. Barak Obama is doing it (or at least someone posing as him is doing it). I won't waste anymore time looking up who else is doing it; I think it's safe to assume most writers or marketing people or just plain anyone trying to be down with the times is doing it.
Twitter is, for me, at the same time entertaining and boring. Yes, it's kind of fun to write any random thought in 150 words or less and release it into the universe, and to read other people's random thoughts. Then again, are other people's random thoughts really that interesting? Or are mine, for that matter? It's one thing if you're 16 and trying to stay in constant contact with your "peeps" and the minutiae of your life is all you talk about anyway, but do adults really have anything interesting to tweet about?
As you may have noticed on the sidebar on the right side of this page I am now "Tweeting" (or is it twittering?). I started doing it because every day I read several marketing newsletters and many blogs and social media is basically the only thing any of them talk about. For those of you who are not receiving marketing newsletters daily and don't know the first thing about marketing--or care to know it--Wikipedia defines it as:
...an umbrella term that defines the various activities that integrate technology, social interaction, and the construction of words and pictures. This interaction, and the manner in which information is presented, depends on the varied perspectives and "building" of shared meaning, as people share their stories, and understandings.
In other words, Facebook, MySpace, blogging, etc, etc.
I could go on and on, but I'll spare you--if you want to learn more about it you can read my other blog, Mizz Information, or google it and you too can become an "expert" (I have written 3 articles for EzineArticles and am now an "Expert").
At any rate, lately all I seemed to be reading about was Twitter. Don't ask me why but it's apparently considered to be a trend or asset in the business world, so in an effort to always keep my resume fresh, naturally I had to get with the times and start tweeting.
Two things about Twitter: first, I have no idea what the actual value of it is. I personally see it as sort of an art form reminiscent of a gumball machine that dispensed--for a quarter--pieces of trash in little plastic balls. In other words, I see Twitter as a completely FIO way of being some kind of modern day poet.
The thing is, like Christopher Goodwin's gumballs (see link above), ultimately people's tweets seem to me to be the literary version of small pieces of trash encapsulated in little plastic bubbles. Take a look at my "tweets" in the sidebar: you basically have I think 150 characters to make some kind of witty quip or otherwise somehow relevant observation. I like it because I personally am entertained by my own witty quips, but as far as the overall point or value of Twitter, I'm stumped.
It's funny to me the way people I see as being big guns in the business or marketing worlds seem to place a high level of importance on social media stuff I think of as relevant only to teenagers. Penelope Trunk, uber business woman and 6-figure blog to book deal getter, is doing it. Barak Obama is doing it (or at least someone posing as him is doing it). I won't waste anymore time looking up who else is doing it; I think it's safe to assume most writers or marketing people or just plain anyone trying to be down with the times is doing it.
Twitter is, for me, at the same time entertaining and boring. Yes, it's kind of fun to write any random thought in 150 words or less and release it into the universe, and to read other people's random thoughts. Then again, are other people's random thoughts really that interesting? Or are mine, for that matter? It's one thing if you're 16 and trying to stay in constant contact with your "peeps" and the minutiae of your life is all you talk about anyway, but do adults really have anything interesting to tweet about?
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Raise Your Hand If You Did NOT Have Postpartum Depression
While looking up something else (I can't even remember what) I came across this breaking news:
Gwyneth Paltrow Suffered From Post-Partum Depression
And this is breaking news....why? Most women can tell horror stories of their post-partum depression: my personal favorite is when my best friend from college hallucinated a chicken walking across her living room.
Most are not that entertaining, though--most women's experiences range from not being able to get out of bed to not being able to sleep at all, from worrying obsessively about their babies getting hurt to worrying obsessively about hurting their own babies, and then everything in between.
However, I have not yet heard anyone describe their expericence quite like Gwyneth did:
My heart goes out to her.
While looking up something else (I can't even remember what) I came across this breaking news:
Gwyneth Paltrow Suffered From Post-Partum Depression
And this is breaking news....why? Most women can tell horror stories of their post-partum depression: my personal favorite is when my best friend from college hallucinated a chicken walking across her living room.
Most are not that entertaining, though--most women's experiences range from not being able to get out of bed to not being able to sleep at all, from worrying obsessively about their babies getting hurt to worrying obsessively about hurting their own babies, and then everything in between.
However, I have not yet heard anyone describe their expericence quite like Gwyneth did:
"I didn’t know I had it until after it was over."
My heart goes out to her.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Back In The Game
Yesterday's pain crisis--horrible burning shoulder/back pain due to excessive computer gaming--has mostly been averted thanks to ibuprofen, heat and valium.
I can't help but think of the term "mother's little helper" when I think of valium--isn't that what they used to call it back in the 50s or 60s or whenever they came out with it? Back in the days before Prozac and before it was ok for housewives to admit they were miserable and bored and lonely at home. I personally don’t think it’s all that great—it just sort of spaces me out, which is not something I need pharmaceutical help with since I am in tune with my surroundings about 25% of the time anyway. The 50s housewives can keep their valium because I don't think it's anything to write home about.
The heatwrap, on the other hand…that thing is pure genius. It’s essentially a giant, hot maxi-pad that you stick on your back, where it magically stays hot for 12 hours. I have no idea how it works but I LOVE it and would definitely take one over valium any day. I have it on today, however, and am slightly worried that people will think I actually do have a maxi-pad stuck on my back because it is clearly visible through my shirt and the adhesive "wing" is clearly visible on the back of my neck.
At any rate, the good news is that no permanent harm was caused by Luxor--which is slightly unfortunate because I'm already craving it like a 50s housewife craved valium.
Yesterday's pain crisis--horrible burning shoulder/back pain due to excessive computer gaming--has mostly been averted thanks to ibuprofen, heat and valium.
I can't help but think of the term "mother's little helper" when I think of valium--isn't that what they used to call it back in the 50s or 60s or whenever they came out with it? Back in the days before Prozac and before it was ok for housewives to admit they were miserable and bored and lonely at home. I personally don’t think it’s all that great—it just sort of spaces me out, which is not something I need pharmaceutical help with since I am in tune with my surroundings about 25% of the time anyway. The 50s housewives can keep their valium because I don't think it's anything to write home about.
The heatwrap, on the other hand…that thing is pure genius. It’s essentially a giant, hot maxi-pad that you stick on your back, where it magically stays hot for 12 hours. I have no idea how it works but I LOVE it and would definitely take one over valium any day. I have it on today, however, and am slightly worried that people will think I actually do have a maxi-pad stuck on my back because it is clearly visible through my shirt and the adhesive "wing" is clearly visible on the back of my neck.
At any rate, the good news is that no permanent harm was caused by Luxor--which is slightly unfortunate because I'm already craving it like a 50s housewife craved valium.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Luxor
Patrick was away last weekend so I spent an embarrassing amount of time playing Big Kahuna Reef's replacement, Luxor (Google "Luxor game" too see what I'm talking about). I had big plans--go see Meet the Browns (see yesterday's post), shop, go to the gym, etc. I am also reading a really good book, Next by Michael Crichton, and was definitely going to finish it.
Saturday I had the kids but while we were home I spent pretty much every free minute not reading but playing Luxor. Sunday I was on my own from 1-6 pm--perfect time to go see a movie, right? Pedicure, shopping, whatever. Suddenly, though, I was bone tired so lay down on the sofa and watched Arlington Road (again, see yesterday's post). But that only lasted for 2 hours and, if my memory serves me correctly, I think I spent from 3-6 playing Luxor.
Yesterday I started having a burning, wrenching pain in the middle of my back, right next to my right scapula. I thought it was either from excessive sofa time or lifting weights.
This morning I asked my friend/coworker who is a massage therapist in training, to diagnose the pain--did she think it's a pulled muscle? I jokingly mentioned maybe it was a result of my Luxor binge.
Turns out that, yes, she thinks it's a pinched a nerve in my scapula. The cause? Luxor.
I might be the only almost 40-year old woman to ever sustain a video game related injury--how pathetic is that?
**** Update****
My back/shoulder/arm now hurts so bad it's crazy...I'm swearing off computer games forever. Unfortunately I still have to spend most of my waking hours sitting at a computer using a mouse anyway.
Patrick was away last weekend so I spent an embarrassing amount of time playing Big Kahuna Reef's replacement, Luxor (Google "Luxor game" too see what I'm talking about). I had big plans--go see Meet the Browns (see yesterday's post), shop, go to the gym, etc. I am also reading a really good book, Next by Michael Crichton, and was definitely going to finish it.
Saturday I had the kids but while we were home I spent pretty much every free minute not reading but playing Luxor. Sunday I was on my own from 1-6 pm--perfect time to go see a movie, right? Pedicure, shopping, whatever. Suddenly, though, I was bone tired so lay down on the sofa and watched Arlington Road (again, see yesterday's post). But that only lasted for 2 hours and, if my memory serves me correctly, I think I spent from 3-6 playing Luxor.
Yesterday I started having a burning, wrenching pain in the middle of my back, right next to my right scapula. I thought it was either from excessive sofa time or lifting weights.
This morning I asked my friend/coworker who is a massage therapist in training, to diagnose the pain--did she think it's a pulled muscle? I jokingly mentioned maybe it was a result of my Luxor binge.
Turns out that, yes, she thinks it's a pinched a nerve in my scapula. The cause? Luxor.
I might be the only almost 40-year old woman to ever sustain a video game related injury--how pathetic is that?
**** Update****
My back/shoulder/arm now hurts so bad it's crazy...I'm swearing off computer games forever. Unfortunately I still have to spend most of my waking hours sitting at a computer using a mouse anyway.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Nothin' Goin' On But the Rent
Crickets are chirping in my head--nothing new over here.
I haven't talked about movies much lately--I guess that's a testament to the quality of the movies we've seen lately. One of my favorite things to do in this life is go to the movies. Not watch movies--I usually can't sit through a movie at home (although I did just watch Arlington Road yesterday and it was AWESOME--a definite at least 9.5). But physically go to the movies. The only problem is when there is a run of bad movies, like there has been lately, it's hard to find anything worth seeing. I still badger Patrick to go every week, but it's been slim pickings lately.
Let's see how far back I can remember:
1) The Ruins--we saw this last week and Patrick rated it second worst movie he's ever seen, with Bug being the standard by which he judges all bad movies. I personally liked Bug but did have to agree with him that The Ruins pretty much sucked. At first it seemed like it was going to be a twist on Hostel--which I personally gave high marks--but then it turned out not to be a twist on anything. Having any type of twist would have made it at least marginally entertaining--in reality it pretty much wasn't. I think I have to give it maybe a 4--it was scary so that was fun but that's about it.
2) 21--this movie rocked. We saw it the week before we went to Vegas but sadly it didn't help us win any money. Kevin Spacey was really good in it, and overall it was just good--even Patrick liked it, which is high praise for a movie. Unlike my opinion, which is probably useless to most people because I'm like Mikey--I pretty much like anything. But 21, even by standards more rigorous than mine, is a good movie--I'd give it an 8.
3) The Bank Job--this movie was pretty good at the time but, now that it's been a few weeks, I can barely remember it so it couldn't have been that good. It was kind of confusing and not that realistic, but better than most other movies out lately. Patrick liked it and I probably gave it a 7.
4) Horton Hears a Who--yes, I see an assload of movies--the fact that I can think of 4 right off the top of my head proves that. I saw this movie with the kids and, even though I wanted to see it and love the original movie, I fell asleep for most of it. Unfortunately, I woke up at the end and for some reason squirted a tear when the tiny kid says "Yop" and suddenly everyone can hear that's there's life in Whoville after all. Mimi was sitting next to me and apparently saw my eyes misting up because she said "You've GOT to be kidding me--you're crying for THIS?" That's Mimi for you. I have to give this movie low marks because it was worse than the original and having Carol Burnett be the voice of the kangaroo just ruined it for me somehow. I give it, sadly, maybe a 2--which is unheard of for me.
5) Yes, I can keep going all day but I'll stop at 5. I forgot that I just saw Superhero Movie with the kids on Saturday. When you see as many movies as I do they all sort of blur together, but I do remember that it was pretty funny--I think I'd give it at least a 7.5.
Ok--I'll spare you--suffice it to say that if it's been in a theater and is rated R Patrick and I have probably seen it, and if it's rated PG there's a chance I've seen it with the kids. The main movie I want to see is Meet The Browns but so far I haven't been able to convince Patrick to go. Maybe Wednesday.
Crickets are chirping in my head--nothing new over here.
I haven't talked about movies much lately--I guess that's a testament to the quality of the movies we've seen lately. One of my favorite things to do in this life is go to the movies. Not watch movies--I usually can't sit through a movie at home (although I did just watch Arlington Road yesterday and it was AWESOME--a definite at least 9.5). But physically go to the movies. The only problem is when there is a run of bad movies, like there has been lately, it's hard to find anything worth seeing. I still badger Patrick to go every week, but it's been slim pickings lately.
Let's see how far back I can remember:
1) The Ruins--we saw this last week and Patrick rated it second worst movie he's ever seen, with Bug being the standard by which he judges all bad movies. I personally liked Bug but did have to agree with him that The Ruins pretty much sucked. At first it seemed like it was going to be a twist on Hostel--which I personally gave high marks--but then it turned out not to be a twist on anything. Having any type of twist would have made it at least marginally entertaining--in reality it pretty much wasn't. I think I have to give it maybe a 4--it was scary so that was fun but that's about it.
2) 21--this movie rocked. We saw it the week before we went to Vegas but sadly it didn't help us win any money. Kevin Spacey was really good in it, and overall it was just good--even Patrick liked it, which is high praise for a movie. Unlike my opinion, which is probably useless to most people because I'm like Mikey--I pretty much like anything. But 21, even by standards more rigorous than mine, is a good movie--I'd give it an 8.
3) The Bank Job--this movie was pretty good at the time but, now that it's been a few weeks, I can barely remember it so it couldn't have been that good. It was kind of confusing and not that realistic, but better than most other movies out lately. Patrick liked it and I probably gave it a 7.
4) Horton Hears a Who--yes, I see an assload of movies--the fact that I can think of 4 right off the top of my head proves that. I saw this movie with the kids and, even though I wanted to see it and love the original movie, I fell asleep for most of it. Unfortunately, I woke up at the end and for some reason squirted a tear when the tiny kid says "Yop" and suddenly everyone can hear that's there's life in Whoville after all. Mimi was sitting next to me and apparently saw my eyes misting up because she said "You've GOT to be kidding me--you're crying for THIS?" That's Mimi for you. I have to give this movie low marks because it was worse than the original and having Carol Burnett be the voice of the kangaroo just ruined it for me somehow. I give it, sadly, maybe a 2--which is unheard of for me.
5) Yes, I can keep going all day but I'll stop at 5. I forgot that I just saw Superhero Movie with the kids on Saturday. When you see as many movies as I do they all sort of blur together, but I do remember that it was pretty funny--I think I'd give it at least a 7.5.
Ok--I'll spare you--suffice it to say that if it's been in a theater and is rated R Patrick and I have probably seen it, and if it's rated PG there's a chance I've seen it with the kids. The main movie I want to see is Meet The Browns but so far I haven't been able to convince Patrick to go. Maybe Wednesday.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Crazy Successful or Just Crazy?
Lately I've been reading/listening to a lot of books about forgetting the rules and just making things to happen. Rhonda Byrne's The Secret, Timothy Ferriss' The 4-Hour Workweek, Steve Chandler's 100 Ways to Motivate Yourself and various other motivational speakers/authors. The common theme among them: throw convention out the window, rules don't matter, you are the master of your own destiny, etc. I guess it equates to what is known as the "entrepreneurial spirit."
I listen to/read this stuff and get really hyped up--"Yeah! I'm just going to make things happen for myself! F the rules--I'll write my own rules!" I can see why these people get paid a ton of money to speak or write books--because the fact that I and millions of other people are listening to/reading them is living proof that, yes, it is possible to write your own rules and design your life to your exact specifications.
(Patrick--who may as well be named Eyore for these purposes--totally disagrees with my enthusiasm, by the way. He says they’re all full of shit and anyone who tried to do what they say would immediately be fired and their lives forever ruined.)
One thing that occurred to me one day, though, while double-dosing on Timothy Ferriss in the car and Penelope Trunk on the computer--both of them have similarly extreme stories: Trunk with her start-ups, firings, bankruptcy, and now fame and, apparently, fortune and Ferriss with his quitting Princeton, losing jobs, starting companies and working 24/7, etc.
Then cut to me, sitting at my quarterly appointment with the psychopharmacologist, listening to him tick off his standard list of questions: Have you been more active than usual? Reduced need for sleep? Risk-taking behavior? Delusions of grandeur? If I were to answer yes to any or, god forbid, all of these questions, I'd be walking out of there with a prescription for Lithium to quell what would diagnostically qualify as a manic episode. I never did anything close to any of this stuff they've done yet I am supposedly bipolar II and on medication for life.
So here’s my question: don’t you essentially have to be bipolar to be a successful entrepreneur? Don’t all these people get to the top by working 24/7 (reduced need for sleep), doing what other people would never dream of doing like quitting jobs to start a business (risk-taking behavior), and of course thinking that the reason they can do this stuff and succeed is because they’re echelons above the common person (delusions of grandeur)? What would happen if they were to wind up in the shrink’s office and handed a sheaf of prescriptions—would they still be on top of the world, writing best-selling books and making millions with their speaking engagements? Or would the meds pop their manic balloons and send them back to regular desk jobs?
Lately I've been reading/listening to a lot of books about forgetting the rules and just making things to happen. Rhonda Byrne's The Secret, Timothy Ferriss' The 4-Hour Workweek, Steve Chandler's 100 Ways to Motivate Yourself and various other motivational speakers/authors. The common theme among them: throw convention out the window, rules don't matter, you are the master of your own destiny, etc. I guess it equates to what is known as the "entrepreneurial spirit."
I listen to/read this stuff and get really hyped up--"Yeah! I'm just going to make things happen for myself! F the rules--I'll write my own rules!" I can see why these people get paid a ton of money to speak or write books--because the fact that I and millions of other people are listening to/reading them is living proof that, yes, it is possible to write your own rules and design your life to your exact specifications.
(Patrick--who may as well be named Eyore for these purposes--totally disagrees with my enthusiasm, by the way. He says they’re all full of shit and anyone who tried to do what they say would immediately be fired and their lives forever ruined.)
One thing that occurred to me one day, though, while double-dosing on Timothy Ferriss in the car and Penelope Trunk on the computer--both of them have similarly extreme stories: Trunk with her start-ups, firings, bankruptcy, and now fame and, apparently, fortune and Ferriss with his quitting Princeton, losing jobs, starting companies and working 24/7, etc.
Then cut to me, sitting at my quarterly appointment with the psychopharmacologist, listening to him tick off his standard list of questions: Have you been more active than usual? Reduced need for sleep? Risk-taking behavior? Delusions of grandeur? If I were to answer yes to any or, god forbid, all of these questions, I'd be walking out of there with a prescription for Lithium to quell what would diagnostically qualify as a manic episode. I never did anything close to any of this stuff they've done yet I am supposedly bipolar II and on medication for life.
So here’s my question: don’t you essentially have to be bipolar to be a successful entrepreneur? Don’t all these people get to the top by working 24/7 (reduced need for sleep), doing what other people would never dream of doing like quitting jobs to start a business (risk-taking behavior), and of course thinking that the reason they can do this stuff and succeed is because they’re echelons above the common person (delusions of grandeur)? What would happen if they were to wind up in the shrink’s office and handed a sheaf of prescriptions—would they still be on top of the world, writing best-selling books and making millions with their speaking engagements? Or would the meds pop their manic balloons and send them back to regular desk jobs?
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
White People--Christian Lander's Got Your Number
Yesterday I mentioned Christian Lander's blog, Stuff White People Like, but said I hadn't really read it yet. I subsequently went and read it and have to say that it may well eclipse my former favorite website of all time, The Best Page In the Universe.
It is hilarious and so, so true. This post about how white people like free healthcare is one of my favorites.
Other stuff white people like: having gay friends, recycling, multilingual children, coffee, expensive sandwiches and microbreweries, to name just a few.
I must not be all white because the only thing on this short list (here's the full list) that I like is having gay friends--I am the anti-recycler, don't drink beer and, if I had a personal motto, it may well be "Welcome to America. Now speak English."
Yesterday I mentioned Christian Lander's blog, Stuff White People Like, but said I hadn't really read it yet. I subsequently went and read it and have to say that it may well eclipse my former favorite website of all time, The Best Page In the Universe.
It is hilarious and so, so true. This post about how white people like free healthcare is one of my favorites.
Other stuff white people like: having gay friends, recycling, multilingual children, coffee, expensive sandwiches and microbreweries, to name just a few.
I must not be all white because the only thing on this short list (here's the full list) that I like is having gay friends--I am the anti-recycler, don't drink beer and, if I had a personal motto, it may well be "Welcome to America. Now speak English."
Monday, April 07, 2008
Blog-to Book-Deal #92
Ok, not really--I'm not sure if the actual number of blog-to-book deals to date is 92; I just stole "92" from the title of this article that appeared in the March 30, 2008 New York Times.
Christian Lander, an Internet copy writer, has a blog called Stuff White People Like. I would have given the guy a book deal for the title alone. I have to go read it but at a super quick glance (who, me--offer an opinion based upon a mere glance?) it looks hilarious. Hilarious, apparently, to the tune of $300,000, according to the NYT article.
Look at it this way--turn on your TV on any given evening and chances are you will find a reality show of some sort. Dating shows, beauty contests, a million different takes on the theme of survival, people battling it out to lose weight, people crammed in a house trying to annoy the shit out of each other, etc. You name it and there's a reality show about it. The whole premise is that people are entertaining enough just by themselves; no need for writers to sweat it out trying to write scripts or come up with ideas.
Isn't the same thing true of blogs? I'm certainly no literary agent yet I spend an inordinate amount of time reading various blogs. If I were in a position to make money by translating interesting ones into book deals I'd be set for life. Sit back and surf the infinite number of unsolicited book pitches--what could be easier? It's like being a modeling agent sitting at a pool filled with hot young girls--just sit there with a cocktail and take your pick of the ones who would make you the most money.
At any rate, is this not yet more evidence that FIO is the way the world operates now?
As is this, for that matter--my new FIO poster child, Penelope Trunk, blogging about how writing without typos is totally outdated. I say poster child because she embodies the spirit of FIO--that is, fuck rules--make your own, then laugh all the way to the bank.
Ok, not really--I'm not sure if the actual number of blog-to-book deals to date is 92; I just stole "92" from the title of this article that appeared in the March 30, 2008 New York Times.
Christian Lander, an Internet copy writer, has a blog called Stuff White People Like. I would have given the guy a book deal for the title alone. I have to go read it but at a super quick glance (who, me--offer an opinion based upon a mere glance?) it looks hilarious. Hilarious, apparently, to the tune of $300,000, according to the NYT article.
Look at it this way--turn on your TV on any given evening and chances are you will find a reality show of some sort. Dating shows, beauty contests, a million different takes on the theme of survival, people battling it out to lose weight, people crammed in a house trying to annoy the shit out of each other, etc. You name it and there's a reality show about it. The whole premise is that people are entertaining enough just by themselves; no need for writers to sweat it out trying to write scripts or come up with ideas.
Isn't the same thing true of blogs? I'm certainly no literary agent yet I spend an inordinate amount of time reading various blogs. If I were in a position to make money by translating interesting ones into book deals I'd be set for life. Sit back and surf the infinite number of unsolicited book pitches--what could be easier? It's like being a modeling agent sitting at a pool filled with hot young girls--just sit there with a cocktail and take your pick of the ones who would make you the most money.
At any rate, is this not yet more evidence that FIO is the way the world operates now?
As is this, for that matter--my new FIO poster child, Penelope Trunk, blogging about how writing without typos is totally outdated. I say poster child because she embodies the spirit of FIO--that is, fuck rules--make your own, then laugh all the way to the bank.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Augusten Says You Must Go Buy This Book
If you read this blog you know two things about me:
1) I am obsessed with Augusten Burroughs--I love him, his writing, think he's redonk smart and funny and he just rocks. He is living proof of the "if you want something badly enough and believe it will happen theory." My favorite quote of his: "When I was 34, I decided to stop being an alcoholic and become a New York Times best-selling author."
And just like that, he did.
And,
2) I'm all about recommending--and even reviewing--books I have yet to read.
At any rate, I was reading his blog just now and he was raving about his good friend, Haven Kimmel (lucky girl!!) and praising her upcoming book, Iodine. He says she's hilarious and a brilliant writer, and naturally he's one to know. I we should all take his advice and read this book when it comes out, and in the meantime, read the other books she's written.
If you decide not to heed this advice, fear not: I will read them all and you know you'll be reading about it here. And I promise to actually read them.
If you read this blog you know two things about me:
1) I am obsessed with Augusten Burroughs--I love him, his writing, think he's redonk smart and funny and he just rocks. He is living proof of the "if you want something badly enough and believe it will happen theory." My favorite quote of his: "When I was 34, I decided to stop being an alcoholic and become a New York Times best-selling author."
And just like that, he did.
And,
2) I'm all about recommending--and even reviewing--books I have yet to read.
At any rate, I was reading his blog just now and he was raving about his good friend, Haven Kimmel (lucky girl!!) and praising her upcoming book, Iodine. He says she's hilarious and a brilliant writer, and naturally he's one to know. I we should all take his advice and read this book when it comes out, and in the meantime, read the other books she's written.
If you decide not to heed this advice, fear not: I will read them all and you know you'll be reading about it here. And I promise to actually read them.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
The F Word
I'm laughing because I submitted an article to ezine and got the following email response:
Yikes--I must have become so jaded about my language that I didn't even realize I had submitted an article containing "excessive profanity." I went to edit it and, after reading through it, couldn't find so much as one bad word. Thinking I was missing it, I read it again--and again. I did say "hell"--was that what they were talking about?
No, there it was--the last line where I said "...let the "f" word fly." I didn't say "fuck;" I said "the "f" word." Apparently "f" by itself is considered--by EZine's lofty editors--to be a bad word.
Fuck that shit.
I'm laughing because I submitted an article to ezine and got the following email response:
Thank you for your submission to EzineArticles.com.
We would like to help you get this article approved but there is an issue which needs to be resolved first.
Your article is in violation of our Editorial Guidelines, Section 1.g.
We do not accept articles that contain excessive or unnecessary profanity. Please edit your article, removing all profanity, and resubmit for Editorial Review.
Yikes--I must have become so jaded about my language that I didn't even realize I had submitted an article containing "excessive profanity." I went to edit it and, after reading through it, couldn't find so much as one bad word. Thinking I was missing it, I read it again--and again. I did say "hell"--was that what they were talking about?
No, there it was--the last line where I said "...let the "f" word fly." I didn't say "fuck;" I said "the "f" word." Apparently "f" by itself is considered--by EZine's lofty editors--to be a bad word.
Fuck that shit.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Guess What?!
Ok, sike--April Fools! I don't want to give my mother (or Patrick!)heart failure.
I'm so busy laughing at my own cleverness that I'm just going to repurpose my post from my other blog today in case you actually want to read something.
Ok, sike--April Fools! I don't want to give my mother (or Patrick!)heart failure.
I'm so busy laughing at my own cleverness that I'm just going to repurpose my post from my other blog today in case you actually want to read something.
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