Archive for December, 2015


Disjointed thoughts:

How can I be thirsty after drinking a 16 ounces of water?  Does hot water make you more thirsty?  And what’s the point if it feels like it goes right through you?

I scared myself today.  I was at Macy’s.  A Middle Eastern family walked by, the little boy was maybe 7 years old.  Very fair with a shock of black hair and extra bright black eyes.  I first thought how cute and then my thoughts were this kid is going to be profiled soon because of his eyes.   A few minutes later, a woman in a hijab in the shoe section, scowling in a bad mood.  She was in the shoe section, anyone would be in a bad mood.  And I thought, gosh, she looks scary.  Both times the T word popped into my head.  They are not any more foreign than me and I am suspicious of random strangers.  Will I have the courage to do the right thing if it’s called for from me?  After today, I’m not so sure.  I am scared of my own budding bigotry.  What’s the solution?  Stay away from newspapers?

Am trying to go on a diet, but have no will power.  It’s draining to constantly be aware of thinking of food.

Which is why I’m so grateful to have found Cabin Pressure.  Many thanks to DD for introducing me to it!  ROTFLOL! and still laughing over some of the gags.  fishfree-oboecheck.  Wonder if I’ll remember and it’ll still be funny the next time I read this.

Dream – Amma in dream last night.  I was in a dining hall, seated on the floor, BFFU sitting next to me, two men sitting kitty corner to me, all of us had a leaf plate in front of us with food served.  Amma comes into the room, my LA cousin is accompanying her, she has a basket in her hand or fills the basket with things from the loft (bear with me, this part not so clear).   She hands some trinkets to the men in front.  I’m watching wondering if I’ll get anything.  She turns around, says “Yamuna!” and perhaps “nanna irukkiya”  And hands me a saree from her basket.  It was yellow with embroidery, folded so I know it was not a new saree.  And I think she gave one to BFFU too.  She walks away and I turn to BFFU and say – wow! she knows my name!  And BFFU says, Yeah, or maybe someone told her you were Yamuna?  I was thinking about ways that it could have happened without my noticing, couldn’t figure out how and wondering if LA cousin might have told her.  At the end, decided it didn’t matter.  And the dream dispersed.   I don’t get dreams too often nowadays and have given up hoping for my Gurus to show.  But this am, I got up and my first question to myself was – Hmm, who showed up in my dream yesterday?


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A tale of three movies, last to first.

I saw Inside Out, a Pixar movie, an animated movie.  And in a first afaik, was weeping.  The movie is about emotions and memories.  Just like Monsters Inc, they have a mechanism all laid out on how emotions take charge and how memories are stored.  Movie going along, I’m slightly irritated by Joy, the perkiness gets annoying.  Looking at her green dress and wondering why she isn’t in tights which is more appropriate for the kid whom Joy runs.  And then they come to the imaginary friend, Bing Bong.  Initially starts off by being neurotic, but there is ths truck that kid used to ride around with BingBong.  They sing a song and rainbows shoot out of the wagon and it flies.  So taken with this image.  By the time the story begins, kid’s already forgotten BingBong, he’s in the long term memory storage.  Which is sad in itself.  Joy says she’ll bring him back when she gets back to HQ, but things go way south and they fall into the abyss where memories disintegrate.  I couldn’t help thinking of people who suffer from dementia.  It’s as good an explanation as any of what happens to their memories.  And joy tries to escape the abyss with BingBong and the truck’s help while singing their song with increasingly forced cheer and they can’t get out – that’s got to be us trying desperately to claw our way back to even keel but keep sliding back to hopelessness.  And then the last try, BingBong gives the head start and then jumps out of the trunk so that he’s not pulling down the escape vehicle.  Even now, recollecting the scene wrenches my heart.  DD was asking if it had anything to do with her imaginary friend Amo.  I don’t think my sadness is vicarious.  Did I have an imaginary friend who’s lost and forgotten and BingBong triggers my sadness for the loss, but not the actual memory?  Or it just might be inspired storytelling.  And funnily enough, the character I cared about the most was Sadness.  The catharsis, the reflection, the stepping into adulthood, all of them have to do with Sadness.  The movie is not sweet, not a riot like TS or MI, but unforgettable for completely different reasons.

Movie #2 – Star Wars, the minority edition.  A girl pilot, a black storm trooper, a white villain and a Middle Eastern (?) daredevil.

Movie #3 – Spectre, am saving my vitriol for the last.  Argh!  The stupid theme song was the beginning.  I thought it was a girl singing.  And the romancing is just silly this time around.  The widow is just rescued and Bond’s slobbering over her, or she him, I can’t tell.  The worst was the love interest.  He’s disarming nuclear weapons and is confused on how to handle a woman?  The assasin Mr White has his children’s photograph in the same room where he keeps his torture tapes?  They narrowly escape death, destroying a train car in the process and at the end of it, they maul each other instead of getting out of explaining the destruction?  He’s off to save the world and she’s breaking up with him?!  Oh, the villain chooses a life of crime because his father took Bond hunting?  And at the end, love conquers hate with Bond walking away to his gf as the villain looks at him.  Corny!!  Verper Lynd – that’s the best portrayal, by far!

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