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July 27, 2007

For Whom the Cat Bell Tolls

I completely ripped off that title from this story about a cat who can tell when a hospice patient is about to die, and curls up with them for the last several hours of their lives. It's quite remarkable.

Posted by Holly at 10:19 AM | Comments (2)

July 25, 2007

OK, This One is a Toy

About six weeks ago, I wrote about buying a Dell laptop loaded with Windows Vista, and the way that decision allowed the gaping maw of despair to open up beneath me.... Mercifully I know how to wield a roll of packing tape and a Sharpee marker, and before long the laptop and all the peripherals were in boxes and back on their way from whence they came, and ere a little longer, the nightmare ended.

That's right: I've been to Dell and back.

The good thing about that experience was that it gave me a better sense of what I really wanted and what I really didn't want. I waited until the charges were removed from my credit card, and then I bought a Lenovo, aka an IBM ThinkPad.

And I love it! I just love it!

Not only is it a better computer, but it also cost $250 less than the previous monstrosity, because it didn't come loaded with a bunch of software I didn't need. Of course, it also didn't come with some software I did need, but one nice thing about working for a university is that they have licenses out the wazoo for just about every type of software you might use, plus a computer store where you can buy discounted versions of the few things they don't license already.

Oh yeah: universities also employ people whose job it is to help you get what you need computer-wise, even home computing, because after all most academics do at least some work from home. My friendly and courteously IT guy took my laptop to his office for an afternoon last week and "made my computer happy," as he put it, and last night he came to my house and set up a router, the result being that at this precise moment I am blogging on my laptop via a wireless connection, something I have never done before. In other words, my work station no longer looks like this

but like this

That's right: I'm outside, on my porch, on my couch, hanging out with my cat (and optical mouse! har! har!) and it's cool and quiet and lovely and I have a mug of tea AND THIS IS HOW I WORK, and life is really freakin' good.

I even have an electrical outlet behind the couch, so I can work out here all day.

Yeah. Life is really good.
(Thanks, M. You rock.)

Posted by Holly at 9:02 AM | Comments (6)

July 24, 2007

I Bet It Even Tastes Better

My apologies to the person to whom I promised an entry today about shoes.... I'll post it tomorrow. Today, I just had to provide a link to this amazing "art in a rice field" entry on Pink Tentacle, which I found via salon.

Posted by Holly at 12:02 PM | Comments (0)

July 23, 2007

Cat and Girls Gone Wilde

You gotta check this out.

Posted by Holly at 10:41 AM | Comments (0)

July 19, 2007

Dare to Dream

So, I have this unusual skill, though I don't use it very often or very well: I can control my dreams.

I started being able to do this seven or eight years ago, when I was finishing up grad school. It's not like I set out to acquire this particular skill; I just discovered one night that I could do it. But it didn't come to me out of nowhere: partly because I wasn't always that interested in the work I was supposed to be doing for grad school, and partly because I suffered from an array of mild but chronic maladies I wished would go away, and partly because I wanted to become more ethically and spiritually deliberate and aware, I started pursuing all these activities that would help me develop my spiritual and intuitive faculties and give me more control over my body and mind.

If you've done any new age exploration, you know the basic program: yoga, meditation, reiki, chanting, hypnosis, visualizations, scrutinizing and releasing old trauma, analyzing patterns in your life for the slightest bit of meaning, keeping a dream journal, undergoing lots of therapy with a really smart therapist who never lets you off the hook, having your astrological charts done, as well as practicing a little aromatherapy and performing the occasional colon cleanse, etc--stuff to help you identify and focus your intentions and your will, so you can release yourself from the effects of karma and lack of enlightenment, and be a more joyous, generous person who makes the world a better place, blah blah yada blah.

I'm making light of it to acknowledge that most of the world thinks this stuff is a load of hooey, but it was actually very meaningful and helpful for me, and it did have positive affects, like granting me the ability to control my dreams.

For instance: in one dream I remember controlling very easily and naturally, I dreamed I lost my wallet at the airport, which meant I couldn't board my plane because I didn't have ID. I kept searching in the area where I thought I'd lost the wallet, but to no avail, and I was about to miss my plane. So I said, "I know! I'll just dream that I find it." And instantly, there my wallet was. I grabbed it and started sprinting toward the gate, clear on the other side of the airport, but I knew I wouldn't make it in time. So I said, "I know! I'll just dream that I'm magically transported to the gate!" And there I was, at the end of the line to board, but still in time for departure. And I got on my plane and it flew off and I felt happy, both in the dream and in my cognitive mind.

This skill, of recognizing when you're dreaming is called lucid dreaming, and being able to control your dreams is called, logically enough, dream control. Supposedly being able to do this means you've achieved a certain level of mental acuity and control. But as I think about the dreams I've manipulated, I notice that they all have one thing in common: they're really frustrating.

Very early this morning, for instance, when it was still dark and you don't want to be awake, I dreamed that I parked my car in some huge parking garage, and then couldn't remember where I'd parked it. I wandered the garage, which was as dark and dank and icky as parking garages usually are, but didn't recognize my car anywhere, and I couldn't go off without it. I thought, "I should dream I just find the car." But then I thought, "Why? Why bother to find the car? Why am I dreaming this in the first place? This has been a stupid, tedious dream since it started, and finding the car isn't going to make it interesting. I'm just going to turn it off, the way I'd turn off a boring, annoying TV show." And I did. I got up and peed, and that was way more interesting than the dream.

And yeah, I'm glad I can do that. But it occurs to me that a still more useful skill would be to control the beginning of dreams, and make them about happy things, from start to finish: I could dream about being reunited with loved ones, or achieving stellar success in the career of my most ambitious fantasies, or how to finish a piece of writing I'm struggling with, or even having lots of really great sex with really interesting partners.

Because dreaming that you find your wallet beats dreaming that you don't find it, but dreaming that you have to overcome some monumental frustration is really, well, frustrating.

Posted by Holly at 9:54 PM | Comments (3)

July 18, 2007

Mustard Yellow

Last time I posted a picture of shoes, I wondered why I don't buy more colorful shoes. And then, the other day, I was shopping and I found some mustard yellow shoes marked down from $80 to $10.

I thought, huh. Mustard yellow.

It used to be one of my least favorite colors in the world. I didn't like yellow or orange or earth tones in general. But then, about ten years ago, I decided it was stupid not to like a color, because it deprived me of pleasure. So I set about cultivating an appreciation for earth tones. And now I like orange just fine.

Mustard yellow I'm still not all that crazy about...but the shoes were really cool, and they were only ten bucks, so I got them. I'm wearing them even as I type, and they look like this:

It's really hard to photograph your feet at any angle except straight down, by the way. I wanted to show off the nice wedge heels, but it was hard.

Posted by Holly at 1:58 PM | Comments (4)

July 16, 2007

Mr. Bowditch Carried On without Me

One thing I didn't see in Salem, Massachusetts (I started an entry about going to Salem but haven't finished it because it's depressing) because I didn't know it was there but would have visited had I known about it is the Nathaniel Bowditch House.

Who, you are probably asking, is Nathaniel Bowditch?

Nathaniel Bowditch was a very important self-taught navigator who found some important way of determining one's location while at sea. His work The American Practical Navigator, published in 1802, is still in print (seriously--you can get it from Amazon) and is carried on all commissioned US Naval vessels.

That's not a very complete explanation, but the two sites I link to--both Wikipedia and some Salem history thing--give a more thorough, learned explanation than I could provide even if I cribbed from them extensively.

But I was able to give you a bare-bones answer in part because as I child I read, and earlier this summer I reread, the absolutely marvelous Newbery medal-winning Carry On, Mr. Bowditch by Jean Lee Latham. I reread it in part because back when Anonymous Blog Friend visited me, ABF and I visited the Flagship Niagara, which was very cool* but made both of us wonder why we have this fascination with maritime history. (Aside, of course, from the fact that Ioan Gruffudd, who plays Horatio Hornblower, is so HOT!--which actually still doesn't answer the question, because not everyone wants to watch even a hottie like Ioan portray an early 19th-century British sea captian.) And then I noticed Latham's book in the gift shop, and said, "Reading this in fourth grade or so probably has something to do with my interest in tall ships. Have you read it? It's really good."

Rereading it this summer, I still thought it was pretty good. If you want a quick intro to 18th-century navigation, try this! It's a fun little historical novel and unless you already know a lot about naval history, you'll be smarter when you finish it than you were when you started.

Bowditch grew up in Salem; I'd forgotten that connection until I saw the headstone of his first wife, Elizabeth, in the old graveyard. She died when she was only 18. I searched the Bowditch plot of Nathaniel's grave, but it wasn't there; turns out he's buried in Cambridge, which I visited the next day, but I didn't go looking for cemeteries while I was there--just Indian food and universities, all of which I found.

*One thing I just LOVE, in that "this horrifies, revolts and fascinates me" kind of way, is a video about the damage cannon fire does to a ship. When they were building the replica of the original brig, they also built an extra ship side, then took it out to the middle of nowhere, and fired cannons at it. I find the video so compelling because it makes me realize what I hadn't known before: I hadn't known about shrapnel. I mean, I knew there was this thing called shrapnel, but I didn't realize that when a cannon ball hit some great big old boat, it would cause the timber the ship was constructed from to splinter into sharp, jagged chunks of wood often bigger than baseball bats, which were hurled about with great force, and could do a lot of damage to human bodies in their path. Even an itty bitty piece of shrapnel--say, six inches long--could really freaking HURT if it went right through your lower abdomen or shoulder or face at 60 miles an hour.

Posted by Holly at 9:34 AM | Comments (5)

July 15, 2007

Would Joseph Smith Have Been Cool with the Queers?

I've said this before on my blog, and I'll probably say it again: my friend Troy is awesome. He just sent me a link to his latest editorial in the Salt Lake Trib, in which he offers a "queer eye for Mormons." Here's a highlight:

You can't complain when people don't believe you are Christian if you teach that all other Christian faiths are apostate. That never goes over well at interfaith functions. And remember, "as ye sow, so shall ye reap."

If you continually attack the LGBT community, then karma will eventually come back around to bite. Nobody likes a bully. And Mormons, of all people, know what it's like to be a persecuted minority. Imagine, instead, if the Latter-day Saints were to rally to the defense of the poor, marginalized and oppressed - wow. You could so change the world.

I like to think that Joseph Smith would have been cool with the queers. He, too, lived on the fringe of respectable society. And, like Mitt, he loved this country enough to run for president.

I personally doubt JS would have been cool with the queers--he was thoroughly homosocial but too into promoting a patriarchal power structure built on men's sexual power of women, and sex between men would have complicated that. But I like the other points Troy makes a lot.

Posted by Holly at 9:23 PM | Comments (1)

July 14, 2007

Where I've Been Lately

Sixteen months ago, I included a map of the states I'd visited, and it looked like this:

But as of last week, the map of states I've visited looks like this:

create your own personalized map of the USA

That's right--I've done some traveling, and added three more states to the list of those I've visited, bringing the total to 41. A year ago I went to Alaska on a cruise with my family; and I spent most of the first half of July in Massachusetts, which I had never visited before, and made a day trip to Connecticut, which was another state I'd never seen.

There will be more about my trip in the future, but I wanted to explain why my posts have been uncharacteristically brief.

Posted by Holly at 1:54 PM | Comments (3)

July 13, 2007

A Cool Plant, the Name of Which I Do Not Know, Growing in My Yard

This is currently one of my favorite plants. I like it because its buds are pink, but its blossoms are white.

I took a couple of photos trying to get the whole plant, but none of them showed it to advantage. It grows in a mound, with stalks extending out of it, and those are where the blossoms appear.

Anyone recognize it? I'd like to know what it's called.

Posted by Holly at 5:33 PM | Comments (0)

July 12, 2007

How Reading War Literature Helped Me Know Our Current War Was a BAD Idea

People are sometimes surprised or disappointed by my interest in war literature. It's gruesome and depressing; why would I want to study stuff like that? Maybe because then I already know about stuff like these "routine atrocities" reported by The Nation and can try to prevent it happening again.

Posted by Holly at 12:08 PM | Comments (1)

July 7, 2007

Bad Pet Humor

What might erupt in your face if you jiggle or upset it?

Dinah might!

(OK, I know that's a terrible pun, but really, I couldn't resist.)

Posted by Holly at 9:56 AM | Comments (6)

July 5, 2007

The Big Blue Bathtub

During my recent visit to Toronto (the one that afforded the opportunity to meet Dale), I stayed at a really lovely b&b near High Park. The hostess had agreed to give me a room with a private bathroom, and when I arrived, she said she had two rooms available, one with a shower and one with a bathtub, and asked if I had a preference for baths or showers. I said, "Actually, I prefer baths," because I do. So she showed me to a room that included this, immediately to your left upon entirely the main room:

It was huge! It dominated the room. If you liked bathing with an audience, it could be cool, because there were two ways you could be seen: someone could just lie in bed and watch you take a bath, or someone could stand in the hall and have quite a good view.

That door you see a bit of to the left is the door out into the hall. There were no locks on the doors, and the latches weren't entirely tight--the door sometimes blew open if another door in the house was shut forcibly. So I had to prop a chair against the door to ensure that it wouldn't blow open while I was sitting in the tub.

If I ever stay there again--and it really was a lovely place, so I wouldn't rule that out--I'll take the room with the shower.

Posted by Holly at 9:38 AM | Comments (3)

July 3, 2007

The Existential Dread of Date Rape and Fish in the Philippines

I don't always check my blog stats--I'll go weeks without even looking at them, and one reason is because the searches that lead people to my blog often distress me, as in the current batch:

was i date raped?
filipina women put fish in their vaginas
sorry for date raping you
existential dread
what is existential dread
frigid mormon women

The filipina women one really freaks me out.... but whatever. I don't want details.

Posted by Holly at 8:19 AM | Comments (0)

July 2, 2007

In Case You Have or Are Interested in Breasts

Over the weekend I read A History of the Breast by Marilyn Yalom, which should be required reading for anyone with breasts or an interest in them, which I realize doesn't cover everyone but covers a lot of people. The book was fascinating, and full of memorable illustrations and photos, including a set depicting a "Bosom Ballet." It told me many things I'd never considered which were obvious once they were pointed out to me, like the significance of the name for the kind of animal we are: mammalia, coined by 18th-century Swedish physician Carolus Linnaeus, comes from the Latin term mammae (milk-secreting organs) and literally means "of the breast." So as a group, warm-blooded animals with a four-chambered heart are named for an attribute only half of them share: the ability to produce milk for suckling their young.

It also answered a question I'd been wondering about lately: Why is that galaxy up in the sky most of us can't see any more because our night skies are so marred by light pollution, called "the Milky Way"? Why is it considered milky? Why not "the Sparkly Belt"? Why not a lot of things?

Well. Turns out we have Greek mythology to thank for the name. Yalom states,

It was believed that mortals could become immortal if they were suckled at the breast of the queen of goddesses. So, when Zeus wanted his son Hercules--whose mother was the mortal Alcmena--to have immortality, he had him placed quietly at Hera's breast while she was sleeping. But Hercules sucks so vigorously that she was awakened and realized he was not her own child. Indignant, she drew the breast away with such force that the milk spurted into the heavens and created the Milky Way.

I also learned that large breasts have not always been considered the "crown jewels of femininity," as Yalom puts it; turns out that in the renaissance, breasts were best if they were "small, white, round like apples, hard, firm, and wide apart." Thought you'd want to know.

And I learned quite a few things that fairly upset me, one being the origin of the phrase "tits on a tray." I had always heard the phrase used to describe very upright, obvious breasts, intentionally supported and showcased to be, well, in your face. (It wasn't necessarily the most female-friendly way of talking about female bodies, but I could live with it.) But it turns out that Saint Agatha, an early Christian martyr whose death included having her breasts mutilated and removed by Roman soldiers, is often depicted in religious iconography as carrying her tits on a tray. There are two paintings of her included in the book; one shows her with her arms tied over her head to a tree limb; she's smiling and nubile as this soldier fits a giant set of clippers around her breast. The depiction of extreme and brutal violence on a woman who sports a "come hither" smile makes the painting pornographic, if you ask me, in ways the "Bosom Ballet" could never be. The other painting shows Agatha, well, carrying her tits on a tray. She's fully clothed and appears healthy, and the tits on the tray are free of blood or gore--they look like tidy little currant-adorned puddings or something, which she's preparing to serve the viewer. Anyway, needless to say, if someone uses that phrase in my hearing in the future, I'll ask them please not to do it again, because whatever it might mean now, its origins are too violent and misogynist.

Yalom discusses the fact that for most of history, discussions of the breast has been conducted by and for men, just as depictions of breasts have been generally been created by and for men. This is one reason she approves of the Bosom Ballet, which I have to say I also found hilarious; it's created by a lesbian, Annie Sprinkle, and if I understand Yalom's analysis correctly, the point is not to titillate, but to "[debunk] the traditional ‘ivory-orb' vision of breasts" by showing real breasts and the way they sag, bounce, respond to pressure, etc.

Yalom's feminist and women-centric agenda is announced in the table of contents, which includes the following chapters:

1. The Sacred Breast: Goddesses, Priestesses, Biblical Women, Saints, and Madonnas

2. The Erotic Breast: "Orbs of Heavenly Frame"

3. The Domestic Breast: A Dutch Interlude

4. The Political Breast: Bosoms for the Nation

5. The Psychological Breast: Minding the Body

6. The Commercialized Breast: From Corsets to Cyber-Sex

7. The Medical Breast: Life-Giver and Life-Destroyer

8. The Liberated Breast: Politics, Poetry, and Pictures

9. The Breast in Crisis

Yalom manages to set forth a coherent, logical chain of meaning and history that includes attention to everything from shifting attitudes towards breast feeding, depictions and exploitation of breasts during wartime (including the differences among the French icon of Liberte, also known as Marianne, the English icon Britannia, and the American symbol Columbia, as well as the practice of painting bare-breasted women on airplanes), and the evolution of breast cancer treatment, to innovations in garments designed to cover or support breasts. I was very interested and quite impressed. I'd even called it a page-turner.

Posted by Holly at 10:15 AM | Comments (4)

July 1, 2007

O Canada

Today is Canada Day, which has nothing to do with me, aside from the fact that I like Canada, but then, I like a lot of countries, and I don't always know when their nationalistic holidays are. And it's not like I'm going to display a maple leaf today, or find a hockey game to watch. I like to celebrate Canada Day quietly, in my heart.

Posted by Holly at 7:01 AM | Comments (7)