divine angst

I have New School email! Very exciting.

I got another expired inspection ticket today. (I got one last August, too, in a different car.) Not a big deal—they’re cheap to take care of, and the cop was actually quite nice about the whole thing. I actually think he felt bad about it—the car is in my dad’s name and we’re just borrowing it, so I’m not really responsible for the inspection.

Anyway, the funniest part about getting the ticket wasn’t how he kept telling me how small a deal this was—that it won’t go on my record if I pay the full fine, that I can probably still get it waived even though it’s WAY expired, that I have until at least the end of next week to take care of it—but rather how he asked me THREE TIMES whether or not I was wearing my contacts.

Dude. If I weren’t wearing my contacts, I would not have seen you pull me over. Seriously.

Like Chris, I saw Revenge of the Sith last night.

Before I begin my actual review, let me point out that half the fun of seeing Star Wars, any Star Wars, even the rereleases of the original movies, on opening night is the people-watching. Lots of costumes, some good, some bad. One guy had the whole Anakin-look down pat—black leather outfit with the big shoulders, greasy man-hair. (Man-hair! Best one-liner from line-standing!) One smaller fellow was obviously trying to be a Jedi but coming off more like a Jawa. “Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper?” So we had a good time, even when the movie theater managers came out to tell an enterprising pizza guy that he had to leave. (Kudos to the pizza guy, though, for showing up with a stack of hot pizzas and selling them cheap.) At least the manager let him sell what was in his bag, but then he told him not to come back. Too bad.

OK, to the show. Anything that might be a spoiler will be whited out. Select-highlight to read if you really want to know.

First, the writing, while better in than Episodes I and II, was still pretty bad. That being said, there seemed to be less crappy dialog and more fighting. This can only be a Good Thing when it comes to Star Wars.

Second, the acting, while, again, better than in Episodes I and II (particularly from Natalie Portman, who shows that she’s really not a wooden doll), was not tremendous. Still, the lack of good acting only showed up in scenes where acting would have been helpful (as opposed to just a nice perk). Since those scenes are mostly dialog-y scenes and this movie doesn’t have a lot of those, there wasn’t much to miss. (Yes, there were a few cringe-worthy scenes between Padme and Anakin, of course, but you get past them and move on.)

Third, the visuals were stunning. So stunning, in fact, that there were times when I couldn’t tell if something had been CGId or not. I don’t like that. When you give me an overhead shot of a group of people, and you zoom in on them and I can’t tell if they’re CGI avatars because everything about them and their surroundings is so smooth…well, it’s just distracting.

There. Technical details taken care of.

To the story. A review I read (sometime last week? I don’t remember) mentioned that there’s not a lot of suspense to the plot of this movie—after all, we all know what happens. Anakin becomes Vader, all the Jedi die, except Yoda and Obi-Wan, who go into hiding. Somewhere in there, Luke and Leia are born, without Anakin/Vader knowing, and they grow up apart, with no knowledge of each other or who they really are. So we know where we’re eventually going; is the how and why of Anakin’s turn to the Dark Side worth it’s own movie?

I’ll say yes. The road from Anakin to Vader had a lot of cool fighting, at least. Yes, the fighting, the fighting, the fighting was terrific. Yoda kicks some ass, and then gets his ass kicked. (That’s not REALLY a spoiler, but I’ll white it out anyway.) Obi-Wan shows his stuff. Anakin shows his stuff (and yes, also bares his chest). Christopher Lee as Count Dooku didn’t really impress, but he’s not around for too long. Even Ian McDiarmid kicked some ass. (And I should mention—that man can ACT.)

Everyone has been telling us for weeks/months that Episode III was going to be darker, and it was. Things happened that made me gasp at their brutality. I like movies to surprise me, so this is also a Good Thing. Even though I had been spoiled to some of the more shocking moments in the movie (damn Kevin Smith and his rave review!) I was still stunned watching those moments play out.

So I liked it. I thought Anakin’s struggle came across well—I felt for him, as he fought with himself over doing the right thing or giving into his fear. There are some interesting issues, too, that occurred to me, as far as Anakin’s prescience goes—he forsees an event that he desperately wants to prevent, but in trying to prevent it, he puts himself in a situation where he causes the event to occur. Deep, man, deep.

Finally, here are two random thoughts that don’t really have much import, as far as the greater plot, etc., go, but that I think are worth mentioning:

• R2D2 takes on some comic responsibilities. I was OK with this, but there was a little too much of it.
• At the end of the movie, fashions suddenly take a left turn, and suddenly the look of various starships and uniforms align more closely with the original movie. I liked this, but it was sort of abrupt.Also, at the very end, as Vader and the Emperor overlook the construction of the Death Star (which apparently is going to take twenty years to build, unlike the SECOND Death Star, which only takes a few months), there’s a Grand Moff Tarkin lookalike standing alongside them. That’s a little too much Continuity Fairy for me.)

So there you have it. If you’re a Star Wars fan (and I mean only that you’ve liked the movies or the storyline, since hardcore fans all saw the thing last night), go see this. It’s worth it. Worlds better than Episodes I and II. Really.

Via Amber, the eye meme. I think I was telling a good story when this was taken.

Entertainment Weekly’s review of Britneys’ reality show made my afternoon. Some faves:

“At one point, after seeing paparazzi outside her window, she declares—with what she intends to be knowing bravado—’People can take anything away from you, but they can’t take your truth. Can you handle my truth?’ And then she swings the camera around to the makeup table in front of her and squeals, ‘I got pretty glitter over there!’”

“Let’s take the moment when she focused the camera on her knees and said, ”They look just like boobs. But they’re not. They’re my knees!” and then shrieked with laughter.”

“Were I not too busy throwing bricks at my TV, I would have clapped with delight as she attempted to interpret a painting but ended up making it—just as she had everything else—about her. If you showed her a painting of Dali’s melting clocks, she would say, ‘This one makes me cry. Time is getting all gooey because I’m late and the world is sad.’”

And the best of all:

“Does anyone remember when Barbra Streisand made that music video of her duet with her then boyfriend Don Johnson, ”Till I Loved You,” where at the end they both giggled and nuzzled a little bit? That was only three minutes long, and I’ll bet Barbra has anyone flogged who even hums that song in her presence now.”

I might have to watch Chaotic now, just for the laughing.

I think I ate something bad on Monday night, because yesterday, my stomach was NOT settled. I felt pretty crappy all day long—and my office was freezing. You know how your body tenses up when you don’t feel good? And how your body tenses up when you are too cold? Yeah? Add them together, and the effects don’t simply double. The discomfort is exponential. By 3:00 I felt like I was going to die.

But I didn’t go home, despite having something close to four weeks of sick leave. Why? I’ve taken two “exhaustion days” in the last two weeks (both related to moving and selling things) and I didn’t want to take more sick time so soon.

Is that silly? I know I’m valued here, but I don’t want to seem like I’m slacking off with two and a half months to go. The reality is that I didn’t get much done yesterday afternoon because I felt so crappy. I should have gone home. In fact, when I did go home, at the normal time, I bundled up into a long-sleeved t-shirt, pajama pants, and socks, and buried myself under the sheets and the comforter. And I passed out.

A sweet two-hour nap later, I got up, dizzy as all get-out because I hadn’t eaten much all day. Forced a sammich into my body and went back to sleep. And you know what? I feel TERRIFIC today. Absolutely fan-friggin-tastic. Sleep really is the wonder drug.

From Jack and Coke.

“The German air controllers at Frankfurt Airport are renowned as a short-tempered lot. They not only expect one to know one’s gate parking location, but how to get there without any assistance from them.

So it was with some amusement that we (a Pan Am 747) listened to the following exchange between Frankfurt ground control and a British Airways 747, call sign Speedbird 206.

Speedbird 206: “Frankfurt, Speedbird 206 clear of active runway.”

Ground: “Speedbird 206 Taxi to gate Alpha One-Seven.”

The BA 747 pulled onto the main taxiway and slowed to a stop.

Ground: “Speedbird, do you not know where you are going?”

Speedbird 206: “Stand by, Ground, I’m looking up our gate location now.”

Ground (with quite arrogant impatience): “Speedbird 206, have you not been to Frankfurt before?”

Speedbird 206 (coolly): “Yes, twice in 1944, but it was dark, — And I didn’t land”

Eugene Volokh asks women who did so why they changed their names when they got married. Unfortunately, comments still aren’t open on his post, so I’ll answer here. (More discussion can be found at Prawfsblawg.)

I changed my name when I was married. It was what was expected of me *(Ed’s note: by my family, not by Mr. Angst), though I also suspect my family wouldn’t have been all that surprised if I’d kept my name.

I think there are some very good, valid reasons to keep one’s maiden name when getting married, the primary one being keeping one’s professional identity intact. If, for instance, a woman has published extensively under her maiden name, keeping that name is probably prudent for her career. But beyond that, what is the great distinction between keeping your father’s name and taking your husband’s name? If it’s important to you, don’t change your name, but be able to express why. Nothing is more irksome than a 21-year old bride saying she’s keeping her name because “it’s just so chauvanistic for any man to expect me to take his name.” That argument just doesn’t hold water with me, particularly given her name is, again, quite likely her father’s.

My eventual decision to change my name was really rooted in the institution of marriage itself. Why bother getting married? What is the purpose? Beyond the tax and legal benefits, marriage is an opportunity for two people to stand up and publicly say, “Hey, I’d like to be linked to this person forever.” I changed my name because it was another aspect of that public statement. “See,” I said, “I am linked to this person forever, and we have shared vows and rings and now we share a name. This is a sign of our union.”

I admit, I was hesitant. I like my maiden name. It’s unique. It’s not common. In this part of the country, the only people with my last name are people I am related to, and there’s something very touching about meeting someone who finds out your name and then tells you how much he enjoyed your aunt’s English class, 20 years ago, when he was in high school. Names hold a lot of connections.

But names aren’t just connections to our pasts, they shape our futures. And as a symbol, changing your name is pretty powerful, both for outsiders and for yourself. It’s a symbol of the change implicit in marriage. Yes, yes, Mr. Angst didn’t have to change his name—so what? Just because there’s not parity doesn’t mean the custom is without merit.

My dad is our family’s resident moving expert. Not so much because he has moved a lot but rather because he worked for a moving company while he was in college. This means that he knows a fair amount about how to best load a moving truck, how much truck a given house will need (though he’s underestimated this at least once that I can recall), and, most importantly, how to drive a behemoth of a moving truck.

So he’s volunteered (though I would have asked him if he hadn’t) to help Mr. Angst and I move to Our New City at the end of the summer. He’ll help us load the truck, he’ll drive WITH US all the way to Our New City, and help us move our stuff INTO our new place. (I will be trying to bribe one of my brothers to come along also; I figure free one-way airfare is a good offer, if he can take the time off. It would be nice to have an extra back.) I’m heartened by my dad’s generosity, even though he remains certain that we’ll be heading straight back here after we graduate.

At any rate, he called today and we were chatting about moving dates. My dad is one of those people whose calendars fill up FAST. So he’s got me thinking already about when we’re going to move, which is kind of freaky. We haven’t been up to Our New City to look at apartments, we don’t know when we’re going sign a lease, and we don’t know if we’ll be signing our lease for the first of August or for some day after the first of August and before the 19th.

But I wanted to get us on his calendar, and he’s already got the weekend of the 6th and the four days prior to it booked. Ack! This last move was so stressful, with just the two of us (and only moving a mile away), that I dread the thought of undertaking a cross-country move without more and better help. So I have tentatively told my dad to reserve the 10th of August and immediately after for us. I also told him to tentatively hold the 30th of July for us as well, in case we need to go up earlier.

Putting down dates like that gave me pause at first. After all, I have to talk to Mr. Angst about it and make sure those dates sound reasonable to him. But there’s a part of me thinks at least penciling in a moving date is a good thing. We’re leased up in our current place through August 14th, so there won’t be too much rush to get out of here. Hopefully, we can swing a lease start-date in Our New City that’s sometime around the 10th or so, so we’re not double-paying TOO much rent. And we can both still leave our jobs when we were planning and have a good solid week-plus to do the packing thing right this time.

Now that I’ve planned all of this out in my head, of course, we’ll get to Our New City next month to find that no one starts a lease anytime except the first of the month. (I am almost sure that can’t be the case, but you never know. Ack.)

Man, I’m really falling behind on this Book Challenge thing. Whatever, we moved and reading has been falling by the wayside—or, rather, has become something I try to catch 30 minutes of before going to sleep at night, between working all day, cooking dinner, spending time with my husband, doing laundry, and (oy) reading blogs. Also, I read magazines at the pool because I don’t care if they get wet and I can read little snippets in between tanning rotations.

Not that I’m trying to excuse myself for falling down on the book challenge thing. Or maybe I am.

In any case, here’s my review of my latest read.

Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson

So this was a re-read for me. I read it the first time on our honeymoon, starting it about two days before we left Italy, when I finished the books I’d brought/bought, and finishing it on the flight home. International flights are great for reading.

I liked the book then, but I wanted to revisit it, hoping to pick up some of the subtleties I missed the first time. Knowing what happens in the end helps with these kinds of books, I find, because you enjoy picking up the clues even more. Besides, this book isn’t much about the suspense of the story, it’s more about the journey.

And that’s the crux of my only gripe with this book. For all the time Stephenson spends building up the big climax at the end of the book, he speeds through it in about 10 pages. This from a writer who can spend twenty pages dragging you through a character’s momentary sexual frustrations. He creates a really interesting group of characters with some very complex interactions—across generations, no less!—but when they finally all intersect, he races through telling THAT story.

It irked me the first time I read it, and it irks me still. Maybe it’s just that I’m a girl, and I wanted a little more detail about what the characters were FEELING and EXPERIENCING at those critical moments, there at the apex of this story. And Stephenson doesn’t exactly fall down when writing abotu FEELINGS and EXPERIENCES, he just seems tired of it all by the end. I get the feeling he got to the last chapters and realized he’d gone 10,000 words over his target, so he just tied up all his plot strings and stopped writing.

Ah well. No big deal. I enjoyed getting there, so I’m not too disappointed at the destination. This is a good book, part historical fiction, part techno-thriller. Stephenson doesn’t give you a lot of warning before plunging you into the story, and I like that—I don’t want a writer to coddle me through the backstory, just let me figure it out on my own—and he really does create very interesting characters. It’s worth your time if you’re a history buff (particularly a WWII history buff) and if you are interested in technology.

When we moved and had our cable switched, they told us about a special they had running on digital cable with HBO, and the special worked out to cost the same as what we’d been paying.

So we went for it.

I’m so happy we did. HBO might be slightly overpriced if you’re just getting plain jane “HBO.” But if you get HBO with digital cable, you get something like twenty HBO channels. So right now, I get to watch Shrek 2.

“I am Pusssss….in boots.”

“I’m a STALLION! I can whinny! I can TROT!”

While I liked the first one better, this movie is rich with one-liners. I heart one-liners.

I tried making oatmeal pancakes today for brunch—whirr oatmeal in a blender to powder, add to flour, mix with low-fat milk and egg whites and a small amount of canola oil, and cook.

Except, despite the addition of baking powder, the pancakes just didn’t get fluffy. I’m not sure if I overmixed the batter or if the oatmeal itself made the batter flat. Whatever the case, the flavor wasn’t bad but the texture left something BIG to be desired.

I think I’ll try them again, but I’ll maybe try making them buttermilk oatmeal pancakes, using my regular recipe, only substituting the amount of oatmeal from this recipe. Maybe that’ll make them fluff.

Or maybe pancakes should just stay one of those things that we splurge on, and I’ll keep making them with whole eggs and regular flour and fry them in butter. After all, not every bad-for-you food should be retooled into something health-foody.

Two hours in the sun does a body good (a body slathered with sunscreen, of course). The tan begins. I love it.

We also got the living room a little more neatened up by setting up our entertainment center, finally. We have a few things to throw away/put away still, but we should be finished with them soon.

So our new home is coming together, and we’re learning to live here comfortably. The pool definitely helps.

I’ve never made amberjack before tonight, and I must say it was quite tasty. It’s a meatier fish, though still white-fleshed; also, it has a deeper flavor than most whitefish but a fishier flavor than, say, salmon or tuna. I marinated it in balsamic vinaigrette (balsamic, olive oil, some Dijon mustard, and oregano) and grilled it on our apartment-safe grill. (One note: the fish I bought still had the pin bones and bloodline long one side, an unexpected remainder on fish from the local gourmet grocery. Why didn’t they remove those before placing the fish in the display? Cutting off the bloodline was pretty icky, but a necessary step.)

Sides were spinach salad with the remainder of the marinade/dressing and romano garlic grits (should have been parmesan, but I had romano handy, so I used that instead; tasty).

For beverage, we had mojitos, since I picked up some rum this afternoon and we already had mint from a few days ago. More yumminess.

All in all, a very nice meal and a very nice evening; but thank goodness it’s Friday, because I made the mojitos STRONG.

(Just noticing—I guess it’s a foodblogging kind of day. That’s Friday for you.)

Due to a severe lack of other stuff to write about today, I am posting my absolute favorite cookie recipe. I haven’t tried to make these in our electric oven yet, but I might take a stab at it this weekend.

Chocolate Chocolate Chip Cookies

1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup softened butter or margarine
2 eggs
1/2 tsp vanilla
1-3/4 cup flour
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
(1 cup nuts if you like nuts in cookies)

Preheat oven to 350°.

In a large mixing bowl or a stand mixer, cream sugars and butter. Add eggs, one at a time, incorporating each before adding the next ingredient. Add vanilla. Beat until well-blended.

Add flour, then cocoa. Be careful adding the cocoa unless you like a thin layer of brown powder clinging to every surface in your kitchen because it will fly everywhere if you just dump it in. Add soda and salt and mix until a soft batter forms.

Stir in chocolate chips (and nuts, if you’re into that sort of thing). Drop the dough by heaping spoonfuls on an ungreased cookie sheet. (Or onto a Silpat.)

Bake 8 to 10 minutes (actually, it usually takes me about 12 minutes) until set. Remove and cool on a rack if you’ve got it. Let cool at least 2 minutes, or they will not be ready to eat.

Mmmmmm. Cooooooookies.

I missed the email this week somehow, but here are the Friday Spies© anyway.

1. If you could change any element of your physical appearance, would you? If so, what would you change? If you could change any aspect of your personality would you?

Yes; I’d make my feet smaller; no, I am delightful as I am.

2. Name a good make-out song (I believe the kids these days would call that “baby-making music”).

You know, I don’t really like the whole idea of “making out music.” It just doesn’t make sense to me. You can’t enjoy the music fully when you’re necking, and you can’t enjoy the necking fully when you’re trying to enjoy the song.

That being said, I like soft, romantic music for date nights in—Norah Jones, Nat King Cole, Sinatra.

3. What did Britney say to Kevin when she found out she was pregnant? What was his response?

“I did it! I did it! Now I’m finally a real woman! Forget that “not a girl, not yet a woman” shit! I can make a baby!”
“Oh, crap. That’s another shortie. Man, I thought this one was gonna be fun for a while.”

4. Did Oswald act alone?

Of course not. Didn’t you see Zoolander?

5. Are you superstitious? Do you believe in luck, karma, fate, the supernatural, etc?

I don’t really believe in the supernatural, really, but I do believe in luck and in karma; I also believe that there are things some people are more sensitive to than others, which accounts for people with “psychic” abilities.

I got my first piece of mail in weeks from my new school—a note confirming receipt of my tuition deposit. Oh, goody.

Thankfully I should start receiving more mail from them in the near future: orientation schedules, new student information, fancy pieces of paper that I can insert into my handy admitted students’ binder. Whee! I like binders!

Meanwhile, I’m fighting a low-grade headache, and have been for the last several days. I’m sure it only contributed to yesterday’s deep exhaustion. We’ll see if I can kick it out with some Aleve a little later. Right now, I’m treating with caffeine, which is sometimes works.

And back to the grind.

Hard to believe, but it’s true. I start law school (OK, orientation) in 99 days.

How can that be? I still have a huge list of things to do:

1. Find an apartment in Our New City

2. Apply for student loans (though I’m still waiting on my final financial aid package to do this)
3. Get a tan (haven’t been to the pool yet, darn it!)
4. Read the Constitution (the only law-related summer reading I’m going to do, since I haven’t read it since high school)
5. Start taking an Aikido class (Mr. Angst practices Aikido, and this is something we could do together in Our New City)
6. Plan our going-away party

That’s a lot of stuff! And only 99 days to do it in! (Less, actually, since we’ll be moving before those 99 days are up. Eeek!)

Are there any other things I should do this summer? Things I should do NOW that I won’t have time to do this fall? Or things I should do NOW to prepare myself more fully for school or student life or the dramatic climatic change we are facing?

In an attempt to enliven my mind and help me get over this tiredness thing, I bought some fresh mint and basil. I’ll be cooking with them this week and weekend. To keep them fresh, I put both bunches in glasses of water and set them on the counter in a cool spot in the kitchen.

Things smell yummy now in our apartment. VERY yummy.

After another trip to Nearby City, one in which we returned QUITE late last night, I found my body rebelling. So tired, so worthless. So today is a sleep-catch-up day, one where I try and reclaim all the sleep I haven’t gotten in the last week and a half.

Sleep, blessed sleep!
You call me from the deep!
Close your eyes
Rest your head
You are safe here in your bed
Sleep, blessed sleep!
I will join you in the deep.

Several hours later, I don’t think it’s going to be one of those days. Thank goodness.

We have some computer weirdness here at work with a couple of servers and databases that are sending false error reports (well, basically). And I’ve been trolling around for paperwork we have to complete to transfer the title of our car. And I had to clean the spilled coffee in my car. Little bits of nonsense to deal with.

But all in all, things are going OK. So I’ve been looking at computers online. I’m trying to decide when to buy my new laptop. Should I wait until after WWDC 2005, when Apple might announce updates to PowerBooks? The main problem with waiting is if they announce a major upgrade. I don’t want the first version of a new PowerBook—they’re always buggy. But I don’t want to buy now if they do get updated just a little, like a speed or memory bump. Oh, the dilemma! Such things I have to worry about!

Um, so yeah. It’s just a slow week, you know? We are maintaining here, not upgrading or revising or anything labor- or thought-intensive. Just more of the same.

This morning, I walked out to my car and discovered it was blocked in by the Coca-Cola truck. I didn’t even know our complex HAD a Coke machine. He parked where there were no cars, EXCEPT mine. So I had to do a nice twenty-eight point turn to get sideways so I could back up around him, and then squeeze through the almost-not-space he left on the other side of his truck.

Look, I know it’s a tiny parking lot, but if you made your deliveries about an hour later, there wouldn’t be ANY cars. Some people don’t leave until after 8. But most people are gone by 9. Just FYI, man, FYI.

(And then I spilled coffee in the car while turning into the parking lot at work. Mrpgh. I hope it’s not going to be one of THOSE days.)

Las Vegas is the Love Boat of the 00s. If I watch one more episode cluttered with special guests, plying their wares like sellouts, I might have to stop watching.

OK, I know I said we were selling our car to a relative and that it was a Good Thing, but I may have to revise that statement down some.

It’s not a Bad Thing, per se, but it’s seriously a hassle. There are so many details, and so many little things we want to take care of before we sell it, because we don’t want to, well, screw my relative.

I just want it to be tomorrow and be over. Rid of it. Done. Sold. Poof.

It’s such a good car, too, that I wouldn’t worry about selling to almost anyone else. But this is a relative and I want to make sure that the car is good for them and that there are no problems.

Sigh. We keep checking things off our list of stuff to do, thinking that thing is the last thing, and then something else comes up. When will it all be over!

Mr. Angst and I booked plane tickets yesterday for an apartment-hunting trip to Our New City. (We got a good deal, too! Exciting!)

So now we just have to figure out where in town we most want to look. And get in touch with the locator services we’ve contacted to set up appointments, etc. And nail down an approximate budget. Sigh.

Three weeks ago, I was excited about looking for apartments for the fall. But now, having gone through the home sale and one move, the last thing I want to consider is moving again.

Things I’ll definitely be taking with me on our trip:
Tape measure
Dimensions of all our furniture
Digital camera

Hopefully I’ll be more excited about all this in five and a half weeks, when we leave. I need some down time.