Slowing down, in other words.
I just realized that the title of this post might sound vaguely drug oriented or, at best, very Cinderella-esque. Here's what I mean: when you descend quickly on a bike, you sometimes have scrub off some speed before you go into a tight turn, particularly when there's no berm to keep you moving forward. Scrubbing isn't exactly braking. It's a way of slowing down the bike without applying direct braking alone. I guess we can think about scrubbing as indirect braking: dragging a rear tire sideways, for example, while also lightly braking to thus slow down just enough to get into that turn in front of you. I think. At least, that's how I understand it.
Technical details aside, I've realized that I blog when I need to scrub off some speed: throw off some energy to get through to the next climb and descent. And although I'm no fan of blogging two days in a row, I looked forward all day to making a little post with no predetermined topic and essentially no point other than to bring me happiness. Blogs are inherently self-serving. They don't have to be, I guess, but mine is, for now at least.
I finished chapter 6 today. It was--by FAR--the toughest yet, not in scope or content, but in the sheer perceived effort it took me to sit down and write it. The first few fell like rain. This one? More like a dentist appointment. I should expect this drag and be grateful that it showed up this late in the game. I've also considered this week as scrubbing off some speed for the next turn: two intro/reflexivity chapters and two implications/wrap-up chapters. I have a feeling these four will be the toughest not only because my writing time will share space with fall-class-planning time but because I'm also tired. I'm obviously not tired of writing, since I keep up with this blog fairly well, but I am tired of the push push push to reach the page limit. Wait wait wait What?
Here's an unsolicited peek inside my writing process: I'm a wreck until I meet the page requirement. After that, some kind of loosening happens, and I relax. Dumb, huh? But it's true. By getting the bulk of the work in front of me, I'm better able to work consistently, finish strongly, and feel good about my work. So I'm about, I'd say, 30 pages short of that goal. Next week will get me closer, though I'll be reading as much as I'm writing. I anticipate having a full draft due by mid-to-late August. Then, revisions. And since I'm a crap first-drafter, the revisions will take awhile. I'm still shooting for a late September/early October finish draft date, though.
You can send care packages directly to my little house.
16 July 2010
15 July 2010
Maybe Meta
This post is about training.
I like to train for events. I like making up my plan, defaulting on it here and there, and learning what to do better for next time. I had been training for an off-road 10K at a tough course here in Knoxville (Hastie Natural Area), but the last month has thrown me off my game, and it's a race put on by Kevin Mahan, so if I'm last, they'll call my name. Whee.
What's most interesting to me is not the event, though, because that's over in a single morning. I like the training, and I really like the learning-how-to-train-better parts. Recently, I've realized that as soon as training feels like work to me, I check out. Distance run? Meh. Intervals? I'd rather not. I've had to be more creative with my exercise while still maintaining the intensity. For the last month or so, I've committed at least one workout a week to sightseeing, by foot or by bike. I realized one day when taking a walk break that I've missed so much of what makes Hastie beautiful by running right past it. When I'm so caught up in my time or my form, I forget what I'm surrounded by. So two Mondays ago, we ran Hastie (in an almost PR time, which was strange), but we also explored the pond there, some of the course building that the Appalachian Mountain Bike Club has been doing, some of the flowers in bloom. We also saw a mother deer and her baby, who followed behind her bleating like a sheep.
Okay, pastoral blah blah, but here's the point: To train properly, the most important part is the consistency. To be consistent, it needs--for me--to not be miserable or boring or overly stressful. These excursions help with the training while also helping me focus on what's most important: does it matter if I cut my mile times down by 30 seconds? Only to me.
Segue: The dissertation process is exactly the same as race training. Make a plan, deviate here and there, be consistent, be intense sometimes. No one thinks the dissertation really illustrates your very best thoughts, only your very best thoughts up to that point and under duress. (A lot of duress, in some cases.) In the same fashion, training runs are never the same as race-day ones because there's something different when it's real, when it counts. So the dissertation is practice, though the result is more tangible than, say, a faster mile or better endurance. By writing the diss, I'm training for what life might be like as a junior faculty member while also producing an artifact that shows what I'm capable of creating (under duress, blah blah). Thinking about the diss in this way--as training for the event--has freed me up mentally to write it. I keep hearing that the "only good dissertation is a done dissertation." Now that I'm around 160 pages in, the book is starting to take shape *as* a book, and I can see how the daily attention (like cross training, keeping my food in check) accumulates in a product (like improvement on the trail, better times, comfort).
Just like race day. A measurable product.
I like to train for events. I like making up my plan, defaulting on it here and there, and learning what to do better for next time. I had been training for an off-road 10K at a tough course here in Knoxville (Hastie Natural Area), but the last month has thrown me off my game, and it's a race put on by Kevin Mahan, so if I'm last, they'll call my name. Whee.
What's most interesting to me is not the event, though, because that's over in a single morning. I like the training, and I really like the learning-how-to-train-better parts. Recently, I've realized that as soon as training feels like work to me, I check out. Distance run? Meh. Intervals? I'd rather not. I've had to be more creative with my exercise while still maintaining the intensity. For the last month or so, I've committed at least one workout a week to sightseeing, by foot or by bike. I realized one day when taking a walk break that I've missed so much of what makes Hastie beautiful by running right past it. When I'm so caught up in my time or my form, I forget what I'm surrounded by. So two Mondays ago, we ran Hastie (in an almost PR time, which was strange), but we also explored the pond there, some of the course building that the Appalachian Mountain Bike Club has been doing, some of the flowers in bloom. We also saw a mother deer and her baby, who followed behind her bleating like a sheep.
Okay, pastoral blah blah, but here's the point: To train properly, the most important part is the consistency. To be consistent, it needs--for me--to not be miserable or boring or overly stressful. These excursions help with the training while also helping me focus on what's most important: does it matter if I cut my mile times down by 30 seconds? Only to me.
Segue: The dissertation process is exactly the same as race training. Make a plan, deviate here and there, be consistent, be intense sometimes. No one thinks the dissertation really illustrates your very best thoughts, only your very best thoughts up to that point and under duress. (A lot of duress, in some cases.) In the same fashion, training runs are never the same as race-day ones because there's something different when it's real, when it counts. So the dissertation is practice, though the result is more tangible than, say, a faster mile or better endurance. By writing the diss, I'm training for what life might be like as a junior faculty member while also producing an artifact that shows what I'm capable of creating (under duress, blah blah). Thinking about the diss in this way--as training for the event--has freed me up mentally to write it. I keep hearing that the "only good dissertation is a done dissertation." Now that I'm around 160 pages in, the book is starting to take shape *as* a book, and I can see how the daily attention (like cross training, keeping my food in check) accumulates in a product (like improvement on the trail, better times, comfort).
Just like race day. A measurable product.
12 July 2010
Second Wind and Other Goodness
The oppressive sense of doom I've had for the last 2-3 weeks has finally passed. I didn't realize the toll it was taking on my life to meet every day with a sense of dread. Even fun things--watching movies, making cheeseburgers on the grill, riding my bike--had started to feel like chores. You can imagine how the work parts of life felt.
But whatever chemical cocktail started this mess seems to have left my body. (Cue the big band music.) I think the Yogi Detox tea helped. (I don't know how to insert links, but you can Google it. It's tasty, if you like your tea a little chai, a little spicy, not very sweet.) I also think trying to be patient helped.
So today, I'm starting on chapter 6 of the diss. I like my schedule, but I've noticed that I have a LOT of down time that I could better utilize. This week, I hope to do just that so we can, fingers crossed, go camping this weekend. We've been trying for weeks to go, but between crowds and hot, hot heat, it's just not sounded like fun. This past weekend, we painted the kitchen and hit up some MTB trails. All good stuff.
In the spirit of my most favorite recent blog post, I give you my Unsolicited-and-Very-Much-Novice Movie Reviews of the Best and Worst Films I've Seen in Recent History. But first, a disclaimer: There are some meh movies on here that are neither best nor worst.
Terrible
Goliath: I really really wanted to like this quirky indie film from the Zellner brothers. I tend to enjoy deadpan comedy, especially over the slapstick-too-obvious tripe out there now passing for "comedy" (like Knocked Up, a film whose merits I will NEVER appreciate). But Goliath dragged, even for a film of its genre, a genre known for long, uncomfortable camera shots and seemingly unrelated side stories. And the minuta became just too minute to be interesting. There's also a scene with a dead cat, a very realistic dead cat, that I didn't like at all. The interactions between the everyman lead character and his boss, his ex-wife, and pretty much anyone he encounters are all too awkward to be really funny. Instead, I just felt uncomfortable for him, and not in a cathartic way.
Meh
The Pacific: I had high hopes for this first installment of the HBO miniseries, since it's from the same team as Band of Brothers. I know it's passe to like Band of Brothers. Everyone likes Band of Brothers. But I do find it to be a miniseries with a rare set of attributes: pretty good acting (especially from Ron Livingston and Damian Lewis), rich history, and a lot of heart. But The Pacific, which covers the Pacific theater of war during WWII (to complement the European scope covered in BoB) lacks decent source material and a solid storyline. While Ambrose's book is anything but well written, at least his chronicles of Easy Company follow a cadre of men from training through the end of the war. Though I'm only 50 minutes in to The Pacific, it already feels overacted, forced, and a little haphazard. Still, I'm excited to see what's next.
Green Zone: I think this Matt Damon film marks the last Iraq/Afghanistan Hollywood blockbuster I'll bother to see. The film was typical Damon, very secret ops and running around with guns, even though the political message was foregrounded more clearly. It's set in 2003-4 and contends with the bad intelligence gathered to justify invading Iraq in the first place. (Considering the current political climate on the war, it's interesting that Damon, who's never made his politics a secret, chose now to move forward on it.) The ethical slant of the film considers the Iraqi people with far more respect and care than previous films, and issues like torture, false confessions, and war-mongering-during-election-time all rise to the surface. A good film, if not a bit heavy handed, but still a Matt-Damon-as-Hunky-Hero film, which I expected from another collaboration with Paul Greengrass (director of the Bourne films). I'm just not into a Hollywoodized version of a fictionalized but all-too-important topic made palatable to the American public. Maybe I'm a cynic, though.
Good (and Still Deciding)
The White Ribbon: I think I liked this German film set just prior to WWI. It has a very creepy Children of the Damned feel to it, highlighted by the black-and-white cinematography. (It was, I'll note, nominated or won an academy award for its cinematography, and I do think the way it was filmed added a great deal to the overwhelming sense of dread and fear that pervades the film, as well as making the starkness of the clothing and landscape stand out as characters in their own right.) It's not an optimistic film by any means, as the residents (here, I mean mostly women and children) of the German village deal with sexual abuse, physical abuse, and oppressive gender roles while working to scrape out a living as tenant farmers in service to the Baron. This poverty undergrids the tension of the film and, as I'll hint at without spoilers, leads to a number of baffling and cruel events. Short on positive male characters and long on suffering, The White Ribbon is a war film focusing on a different kind of struggle. A subtle film that felt about 20 minutes too long, yet still a good investment.
But whatever chemical cocktail started this mess seems to have left my body. (Cue the big band music.) I think the Yogi Detox tea helped. (I don't know how to insert links, but you can Google it. It's tasty, if you like your tea a little chai, a little spicy, not very sweet.) I also think trying to be patient helped.
So today, I'm starting on chapter 6 of the diss. I like my schedule, but I've noticed that I have a LOT of down time that I could better utilize. This week, I hope to do just that so we can, fingers crossed, go camping this weekend. We've been trying for weeks to go, but between crowds and hot, hot heat, it's just not sounded like fun. This past weekend, we painted the kitchen and hit up some MTB trails. All good stuff.
In the spirit of my most favorite recent blog post, I give you my Unsolicited-and-Very-Much-Novice Movie Reviews of the Best and Worst Films I've Seen in Recent History. But first, a disclaimer: There are some meh movies on here that are neither best nor worst.
Terrible
Goliath: I really really wanted to like this quirky indie film from the Zellner brothers. I tend to enjoy deadpan comedy, especially over the slapstick-too-obvious tripe out there now passing for "comedy" (like Knocked Up, a film whose merits I will NEVER appreciate). But Goliath dragged, even for a film of its genre, a genre known for long, uncomfortable camera shots and seemingly unrelated side stories. And the minuta became just too minute to be interesting. There's also a scene with a dead cat, a very realistic dead cat, that I didn't like at all. The interactions between the everyman lead character and his boss, his ex-wife, and pretty much anyone he encounters are all too awkward to be really funny. Instead, I just felt uncomfortable for him, and not in a cathartic way.
Meh
The Pacific: I had high hopes for this first installment of the HBO miniseries, since it's from the same team as Band of Brothers. I know it's passe to like Band of Brothers. Everyone likes Band of Brothers. But I do find it to be a miniseries with a rare set of attributes: pretty good acting (especially from Ron Livingston and Damian Lewis), rich history, and a lot of heart. But The Pacific, which covers the Pacific theater of war during WWII (to complement the European scope covered in BoB) lacks decent source material and a solid storyline. While Ambrose's book is anything but well written, at least his chronicles of Easy Company follow a cadre of men from training through the end of the war. Though I'm only 50 minutes in to The Pacific, it already feels overacted, forced, and a little haphazard. Still, I'm excited to see what's next.
Green Zone: I think this Matt Damon film marks the last Iraq/Afghanistan Hollywood blockbuster I'll bother to see. The film was typical Damon, very secret ops and running around with guns, even though the political message was foregrounded more clearly. It's set in 2003-4 and contends with the bad intelligence gathered to justify invading Iraq in the first place. (Considering the current political climate on the war, it's interesting that Damon, who's never made his politics a secret, chose now to move forward on it.) The ethical slant of the film considers the Iraqi people with far more respect and care than previous films, and issues like torture, false confessions, and war-mongering-during-election-time all rise to the surface. A good film, if not a bit heavy handed, but still a Matt-Damon-as-Hunky-Hero film, which I expected from another collaboration with Paul Greengrass (director of the Bourne films). I'm just not into a Hollywoodized version of a fictionalized but all-too-important topic made palatable to the American public. Maybe I'm a cynic, though.
Good (and Still Deciding)
The White Ribbon: I think I liked this German film set just prior to WWI. It has a very creepy Children of the Damned feel to it, highlighted by the black-and-white cinematography. (It was, I'll note, nominated or won an academy award for its cinematography, and I do think the way it was filmed added a great deal to the overwhelming sense of dread and fear that pervades the film, as well as making the starkness of the clothing and landscape stand out as characters in their own right.) It's not an optimistic film by any means, as the residents (here, I mean mostly women and children) of the German village deal with sexual abuse, physical abuse, and oppressive gender roles while working to scrape out a living as tenant farmers in service to the Baron. This poverty undergrids the tension of the film and, as I'll hint at without spoilers, leads to a number of baffling and cruel events. Short on positive male characters and long on suffering, The White Ribbon is a war film focusing on a different kind of struggle. A subtle film that felt about 20 minutes too long, yet still a good investment.
07 July 2010
Inertia
I'm slowly getting back into my running and biking after about a week and a half off for those nasty antibiotics. What I didn't know is that Biaxin can mess with your heart and breathing. That interaction explains the awful, terrible, no-good, very-bad interval runs I had the first week I was on the meds. I am thankful that I escaped the two weeks without any damage, and now I'm slowly moving forward. I stepped back on the intensity, and this week I'm working on consistency and frequency (and comfort). Sunday, we hit a few trails at Eastern State and Georgia Marble, and Monday, we did a slow 5K at Hastie Park. (South Knox is a brilliant place to live if you like off-roading it, which I do.) Yesterday, I did a morning interval session at a one setting lower than I'm used to doing, and last night, we did a 15-mile bike tour of Knoxville. The road just doesn't call to me in the same way as the trail does, but there are some strange and wondrous artifacts in this Scruffy Little City. Safety City, for example, is a mini-replica of the entire city of Knoxville, complete with Sunsphere. It's used to train kids how to navigate the city in a "safe" manner. And the War Dog memorial in front of the Ag Campus is one of my favorite random memorials. I do believe that by-bike is one of the best ways to experience Knoxville, as long as you stay off the narrow, heavily trafficked roads.
With the drop in activity I felt a drop in my mood and interest in my dissertation. Another side effect of Biaxin, I found out, is depression and anxiety, so I'm not shocked that I'm feeling this way, but I am disheartened. I started writing June 1, and a short month in and I feel tired. Not tired of the material or the process, just tired. But I have to approach the writing with the same forgiveness as the fitness. While I recognize that I need to hold to my plan, I also recognize that the worst thing I can do is stop. While "taking a break" might work for some people--maybe most people--for me, taking a break usually leads to quitting or losing complete interest or getting sidetracked. I'm the queen of half-finished projects. Today, for the first time this summer, it was a true struggle to round up my materials and go in to the office. But I came in and I set a reasonable goal: 5 pages. Even if those 5 pages are rough--and they will be--and painful to write--and they might be--at least they'll be something I can come back to later when I'm in a better frame of mind. My goals for my writing echo my goals for my body: consistency and frequency. Those two aspects trump intensity any day.
With the drop in activity I felt a drop in my mood and interest in my dissertation. Another side effect of Biaxin, I found out, is depression and anxiety, so I'm not shocked that I'm feeling this way, but I am disheartened. I started writing June 1, and a short month in and I feel tired. Not tired of the material or the process, just tired. But I have to approach the writing with the same forgiveness as the fitness. While I recognize that I need to hold to my plan, I also recognize that the worst thing I can do is stop. While "taking a break" might work for some people--maybe most people--for me, taking a break usually leads to quitting or losing complete interest or getting sidetracked. I'm the queen of half-finished projects. Today, for the first time this summer, it was a true struggle to round up my materials and go in to the office. But I came in and I set a reasonable goal: 5 pages. Even if those 5 pages are rough--and they will be--and painful to write--and they might be--at least they'll be something I can come back to later when I'm in a better frame of mind. My goals for my writing echo my goals for my body: consistency and frequency. Those two aspects trump intensity any day.
01 July 2010
Well, Damn.
I'm behind.
I hate those two words so big.
But I know that with a project like a dissertation--especially a qualitative diss--I have to expect to have my plans upset now and then. I'm not talking about upset-like-having-the-first-project-implode upset, but off kilter. This week has been odd. I've not felt up to par, and I've not produced as much as I'd like. I still hold out hope for Friday being a banner writing day. *Fingers Crossed*
In the meantime, I wish to list for you the five worst films I've seen in recent history:
1. Shutter Island: 2 hours and 20 minutes of stilted dialog and terrible acting. I had high hopes for Scorsese, but he buried us in unnecessary details and side plots. Even Leo couldn't save this film, and I happen to find him to be pretty persuasive. Gangs of New York = Brilliant. The Scorsese/Leo one/two punch has worked before, but it didn't work this time.
2. Pretty Bird: Paul Giamatti ruins pretty much everything he's in. He was a passable John Adams (in the HBO miniseries), but all of his sex scenes--and he always has one--make me nervous. Pretty Bird featured a frustrating, awkward, way-too-long sex scene that was totally superfluous. It's like he wants to be typecast as inadequate. Overacted, pointless, unfunny. Save your dollar.
3. Zak and Miri Make a Porno: I know. The title should have let me know it was for 12-year-old boys, but I gave it a shot. Now I own it. What a waste of potential.
4. Zombieland: I know this choice is unpopular. Lots of people LOVED Zombieland. I found it too self-referential and scatalogical to be even remotely entertaining. Woody's one of my favorites, so I felt particularly hurt that he made such a lame, lowest-common-denominator film.
5. The Road: Hate mail me all you want. The kid was obnoxious. The death scene lost all of its dignity and gravity. And a dog? I can't believe Cormac signed off on this melodramatic mess of a film.
6. From Paris With Love: This film was so bad, I broke my five-film rule. I heard it was like Pulp Fiction, but set in Paris. Lies. I made it 30 minutes in before folding laundry became a more attractive option. Terrible acting upstaged only by Travolta's total commitment to that terrible acting.
And now, just for balance, five decent films I've seen in the recent past. Note: I do not say "great." I fear that filmmakers have lost whatever it is that makes greatness. (Or maybe it just doesn't sell JuJu Beads very well.)
1. Defendor: Okay, remember that I love Woody Harrelson. This film was one part superhero drama, one part dark comedy, one part mental health tale. Surprisingly human. Surprisingly funny.
2. The Messenger: It's the year of Woody, I guess. Besides the somewhat-coopting timeliness of the fim--Harrelson is an "Angel of Death" officer charged with serving families the notice that their loved ones have been killed in war--it comes together as a pretty effective buddy film. And maybe it's coming of age, too, for the younger solider Harrelson mentors. Though I do have to say that it hit a little too close to The Hurt Locker for me. I didn't like The Hurt Locker. But at least The Messenger had times of genuine warmth and comedy, and, unlike The Hurt Locker, the characters in The Messenger were developed enough for you to care about them.
3. The Men Who Stare At Goats: I was prepared to hate this film, but I didn't. Clooney, predictably, steals it here, but Ewan McGregor is no slouch himself. Jeff Bridges as the hippie-dippie soldier behind the scenes made me smile. I do worry that two of my favorite films in recent history deal with the war in Iraq.
4. The Lord of the Rings (1978 Cartoon Version): Okay, not a NEW film, and I've seen it before. A long time ago. Before I read the books. I didn't realize 1) how accurate the cartoon was, in terms of following the source text or 2) how much Peter Jackson's films OWE this badly drawn cartoon. A number of the scenes in the new live-action version follow, point by point, blocking and everything, the cartoon version. It's really long, though. I had to watch it in installments.
5. Alice in Wonderland: I was skeptical. Burton/Depp usually fumble the ball. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was SO bad and tried SO HARD to be modern that it just looked cheap. And it was boring. (Replacing geese who lay golden eggs with squirrels? Really?) But sometimes they hit the mark, like with Edward Scissorhands. Alice is no Edward, but neither is it Charlie. (I am also amused at Burton's insistence on working with films with name titles: James and the Giant Peach, Sweeny Todd, Ed Wood.)
I hate those two words so big.
But I know that with a project like a dissertation--especially a qualitative diss--I have to expect to have my plans upset now and then. I'm not talking about upset-like-having-the-first-project-implode upset, but off kilter. This week has been odd. I've not felt up to par, and I've not produced as much as I'd like. I still hold out hope for Friday being a banner writing day. *Fingers Crossed*
In the meantime, I wish to list for you the five worst films I've seen in recent history:
1. Shutter Island: 2 hours and 20 minutes of stilted dialog and terrible acting. I had high hopes for Scorsese, but he buried us in unnecessary details and side plots. Even Leo couldn't save this film, and I happen to find him to be pretty persuasive. Gangs of New York = Brilliant. The Scorsese/Leo one/two punch has worked before, but it didn't work this time.
2. Pretty Bird: Paul Giamatti ruins pretty much everything he's in. He was a passable John Adams (in the HBO miniseries), but all of his sex scenes--and he always has one--make me nervous. Pretty Bird featured a frustrating, awkward, way-too-long sex scene that was totally superfluous. It's like he wants to be typecast as inadequate. Overacted, pointless, unfunny. Save your dollar.
3. Zak and Miri Make a Porno: I know. The title should have let me know it was for 12-year-old boys, but I gave it a shot. Now I own it. What a waste of potential.
4. Zombieland: I know this choice is unpopular. Lots of people LOVED Zombieland. I found it too self-referential and scatalogical to be even remotely entertaining. Woody's one of my favorites, so I felt particularly hurt that he made such a lame, lowest-common-denominator film.
5. The Road: Hate mail me all you want. The kid was obnoxious. The death scene lost all of its dignity and gravity. And a dog? I can't believe Cormac signed off on this melodramatic mess of a film.
6. From Paris With Love: This film was so bad, I broke my five-film rule. I heard it was like Pulp Fiction, but set in Paris. Lies. I made it 30 minutes in before folding laundry became a more attractive option. Terrible acting upstaged only by Travolta's total commitment to that terrible acting.
And now, just for balance, five decent films I've seen in the recent past. Note: I do not say "great." I fear that filmmakers have lost whatever it is that makes greatness. (Or maybe it just doesn't sell JuJu Beads very well.)
1. Defendor: Okay, remember that I love Woody Harrelson. This film was one part superhero drama, one part dark comedy, one part mental health tale. Surprisingly human. Surprisingly funny.
2. The Messenger: It's the year of Woody, I guess. Besides the somewhat-coopting timeliness of the fim--Harrelson is an "Angel of Death" officer charged with serving families the notice that their loved ones have been killed in war--it comes together as a pretty effective buddy film. And maybe it's coming of age, too, for the younger solider Harrelson mentors. Though I do have to say that it hit a little too close to The Hurt Locker for me. I didn't like The Hurt Locker. But at least The Messenger had times of genuine warmth and comedy, and, unlike The Hurt Locker, the characters in The Messenger were developed enough for you to care about them.
3. The Men Who Stare At Goats: I was prepared to hate this film, but I didn't. Clooney, predictably, steals it here, but Ewan McGregor is no slouch himself. Jeff Bridges as the hippie-dippie soldier behind the scenes made me smile. I do worry that two of my favorite films in recent history deal with the war in Iraq.
4. The Lord of the Rings (1978 Cartoon Version): Okay, not a NEW film, and I've seen it before. A long time ago. Before I read the books. I didn't realize 1) how accurate the cartoon was, in terms of following the source text or 2) how much Peter Jackson's films OWE this badly drawn cartoon. A number of the scenes in the new live-action version follow, point by point, blocking and everything, the cartoon version. It's really long, though. I had to watch it in installments.
5. Alice in Wonderland: I was skeptical. Burton/Depp usually fumble the ball. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was SO bad and tried SO HARD to be modern that it just looked cheap. And it was boring. (Replacing geese who lay golden eggs with squirrels? Really?) But sometimes they hit the mark, like with Edward Scissorhands. Alice is no Edward, but neither is it Charlie. (I am also amused at Burton's insistence on working with films with name titles: James and the Giant Peach, Sweeny Todd, Ed Wood.)
23 June 2010
Be A Duckie
No, not from Pretty in Pink. He's cooler than me, and more popular.
I'm halfway through a third chapter of the dissertation. I started in the middle with my case study analysis chapters, since I have a rough 20 pages of methods/methodologies/lit review and a rough page and a half (hey, it's a start) of implications. I'm right at 90 pages in. I've done that in about three weeks, and I feel pretty good about the pace. It's challenging without being overly ambitious or demanding. I still have plenty of me time for reading, puttering, exercising, and, these past two weeks, feeling like crap while on these antibiotics.
Which leads me to my second point: an equation for exhaustion
(1,000 mg of Biaxin and 2,000 mg of Amoxicillin a day for the H. Pylori + 100 degree heat index) trying to run high-intensity intervals 2 days/week + trying to run one distance run 1 day/week + trying to bike 2 days/week + strength training 2 days/week + stretching or yoga 2 days/week = a very run-down and generally poor feeling me.
I'm taking the rest of the week off from working out. I feel less than zero.
So then I started to panic yesterday when I felt like I wasn't getting enough done. I had to dialogue with myself about the true benefit of worry and panic (there isn't any) and about how if I panic at every little setback, it's going to be a long, slow, torturous process.
This week: I gotta be a duckie. Let it all roll off my back.
Quack, y'all.
I'm halfway through a third chapter of the dissertation. I started in the middle with my case study analysis chapters, since I have a rough 20 pages of methods/methodologies/lit review and a rough page and a half (hey, it's a start) of implications. I'm right at 90 pages in. I've done that in about three weeks, and I feel pretty good about the pace. It's challenging without being overly ambitious or demanding. I still have plenty of me time for reading, puttering, exercising, and, these past two weeks, feeling like crap while on these antibiotics.
Which leads me to my second point: an equation for exhaustion
(1,000 mg of Biaxin and 2,000 mg of Amoxicillin a day for the H. Pylori + 100 degree heat index) trying to run high-intensity intervals 2 days/week + trying to run one distance run 1 day/week + trying to bike 2 days/week + strength training 2 days/week + stretching or yoga 2 days/week = a very run-down and generally poor feeling me.
I'm taking the rest of the week off from working out. I feel less than zero.
So then I started to panic yesterday when I felt like I wasn't getting enough done. I had to dialogue with myself about the true benefit of worry and panic (there isn't any) and about how if I panic at every little setback, it's going to be a long, slow, torturous process.
This week: I gotta be a duckie. Let it all roll off my back.
Quack, y'all.
20 June 2010
AciPhex, Five-Hour Energy, and a Cautionary Tale
Two years ago, I had a stomachache. It never went away. I cut out coffee and Diet Coke and stopped drinking those massive 24-ounce energy drinks (with war planes on the side, no less). I popped acid reducers and proton pump inhibitors, and it got better.
Last summer, I used too much Five-Hour Energy. I know it goes without saying that any pseudo-drug purchased from a basket beside a gas station cash register can't be good for you. I was tired, though, working too much, and needed the burst of "clean energy." Turns out Niacin--the cause of that nice flush it gives you--eats away at your insides. Doctors nationwide are up in arms about its use.
So the little stomachache turned out to be a big stomachache, and some nasty things went on inside me. I cut out the caffeine, tomatoes, onions, and chocolate, and again I invested in Famitodine and Omeprazole. The discomfort was notable but controlled. I've always had a higher than average tolerance for physical discomfort, though. That's why I let things go.
Fast forward to this summer. More aches in the stomach. Still not drinking coffee or soda. No Ibuprofen. No tomatoes or onions. Some chocolate. I mean, I'm human. But then I slipped and took a Motrin.
And it hit HARD.
I tested positive for H. Pylori, a bacteria that can withstand stomach acid. Essentially, I may have had an infection in my stomach for the last two years. I started on AciPhex, 20 mg twice a day.
Most people don't have side effects, but I did: insomnia, shortness of breath, dizziness, fuzzy-headedness, numbness through my hands and feet, confusion. Luckily, I ran out of AciPhex and started back on the Omeprazole yesterday. Within a day, the side effects have stopped. I feel better than I have felt in a week. I think I was allergic to the medicine.
This post is a cautionary tale: Five-Hour Energy will erode your stomach lining and cause the overproduction of acid, necessitating an acid reducer. AciPhex, an acid reducer, will make it so you can't breathe.
The point: Be good to your body. Treat it well. Nourish it with good food, water, good sleep, and laughter. Don't take gas station uppers to stay awake. Don't drink pots of coffee to feel better. Preachy, preachy, yes, I know. But the last two years of my stupid stomach issue may have been prevented, or lessened, if I hadn't used such harsh products. I'd rather do less work stuff and more family stuff and be a relaxed person and not be sick all the time or artificially wired. (I do want to say that I love the taste and smell of coffee, so not being able to drink a cup a day is really hard for me. I'm mourning that little ritual.)
****Disclaimer: No one knows what causes H. Pylori. I may have ended up with the infection anyway, even without the caffeine, but two thirds of Americans have the bacteria in their stomachs with no symptoms. The heavy use of Niacin and too much caffeine--up to 24 ounces of coffee A DAY--definitely created an environment where bad things could happen.***
Last summer, I used too much Five-Hour Energy. I know it goes without saying that any pseudo-drug purchased from a basket beside a gas station cash register can't be good for you. I was tired, though, working too much, and needed the burst of "clean energy." Turns out Niacin--the cause of that nice flush it gives you--eats away at your insides. Doctors nationwide are up in arms about its use.
So the little stomachache turned out to be a big stomachache, and some nasty things went on inside me. I cut out the caffeine, tomatoes, onions, and chocolate, and again I invested in Famitodine and Omeprazole. The discomfort was notable but controlled. I've always had a higher than average tolerance for physical discomfort, though. That's why I let things go.
Fast forward to this summer. More aches in the stomach. Still not drinking coffee or soda. No Ibuprofen. No tomatoes or onions. Some chocolate. I mean, I'm human. But then I slipped and took a Motrin.
And it hit HARD.
I tested positive for H. Pylori, a bacteria that can withstand stomach acid. Essentially, I may have had an infection in my stomach for the last two years. I started on AciPhex, 20 mg twice a day.
Most people don't have side effects, but I did: insomnia, shortness of breath, dizziness, fuzzy-headedness, numbness through my hands and feet, confusion. Luckily, I ran out of AciPhex and started back on the Omeprazole yesterday. Within a day, the side effects have stopped. I feel better than I have felt in a week. I think I was allergic to the medicine.
This post is a cautionary tale: Five-Hour Energy will erode your stomach lining and cause the overproduction of acid, necessitating an acid reducer. AciPhex, an acid reducer, will make it so you can't breathe.
The point: Be good to your body. Treat it well. Nourish it with good food, water, good sleep, and laughter. Don't take gas station uppers to stay awake. Don't drink pots of coffee to feel better. Preachy, preachy, yes, I know. But the last two years of my stupid stomach issue may have been prevented, or lessened, if I hadn't used such harsh products. I'd rather do less work stuff and more family stuff and be a relaxed person and not be sick all the time or artificially wired. (I do want to say that I love the taste and smell of coffee, so not being able to drink a cup a day is really hard for me. I'm mourning that little ritual.)
****Disclaimer: No one knows what causes H. Pylori. I may have ended up with the infection anyway, even without the caffeine, but two thirds of Americans have the bacteria in their stomachs with no symptoms. The heavy use of Niacin and too much caffeine--up to 24 ounces of coffee A DAY--definitely created an environment where bad things could happen.***
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
