10 Items or Less

I love Brad Silberling. He wrote and directed Moonlight Mile and 10 Items or Less. Moonlight Mile wrecks me. Using a similarly senseless and sudden loss in his own life as his inspiration, Siberling weaves this tapestry of grief and the human condition. His characters are all experiencing and expressing and coping with grief in ways that are almost difficult to watch because it is all so real. The illogical things you do. The way you get lost and don't remember why you walked into that room. The strangeness you feel when you learn you can still laugh or when you laugh at all the wrong times. The anger, the absurdity, the oddity of acknowledging the horrific thing that has happened right there in the midst of your world. And most shattering of all, the way life keeps moving on and stores keep opening and the mail gets delivered and new people come into your life and this horrible thing happened... yet nothing stops. And somehow in the midst of all of this - the film is hopeful.

It's clever, warm and strikingly spot on.

It's not at all what I wanted to write about tonight.

10 Items or Less I saw more recently. Morgan Freeman plays a sucessful older actor who hasn't worked in a few years. He's considering a role in a small independent film as the manager of a grocery store - so he gets dropped off at an out of the way supermarket to do research. Watch the locals. Get into the mindset of the store manager (this leads to a brilliant scene in which Morgan Freeman follows the diminutive, older Indian character actor Kumar Pallana around the store, mimicking his every move - HILARIOUS AND AWESOME). At the register Freeman (listed in the film's credits only as "Him") meets Paz Vega's character, Scarlett. She runs the ten items or less line. A frustrating, thankless job. She's too smart to be stuck doing this work but is struggling to find the self-confidence to get out.

Basically, they both have problems. Like we all do. And some of those problems are the ones it's just hard to see clearly on your own. So when they get stuck spending the day together (Freeman gets stranded at the shop and Vega begrudgingly offers him a ride) they both need some outside perspective. They spend one day together. Doing the most mundane things you can think of. The set up is so gloriously ordinary. The veteran actor raving about how amazing Target is. Gorgeous Paz Vega pulling a sandwich from a rumpled paper Arby's bag. And it's wonderful and strange. In the midst of it they are talking and learning about each other and helping each other do things. And eventually you are left feeling that just MAYBE they have changed each others lives.

In the midst of their day running around fixing problems and talking about everything, there is this one conversation in particular that they have that I just loved. Vega says that everyone wants more than ten items. No one is happy with ten. No one wants to give anything up. They talk about what they would get rid of if they could remove ten things from their lives. Then, more telling, they talk about the ten best things in their lives. What they would keep if they could only keep ten things. It's a wonderful scene. The "things" aren't just things. They are parts of life, moments, things you do, parts of their worlds. The ten best things. The things that, if everything else was gone, would be enough.

I loved that.

Ten things to rid yourself of is easy. But only keeping ten. Ten things. A simple life made up of it's ten best parts. What would you choose? What would that life be?

It's an intimate list and it's difficult to be honest and I think it's probably one of those conversations it would be easier to have with a stranger. Someone not invested in your world. Someone you could just TELL - give that truth to and then walk away and not have to admit to the rest of the world what really matters to you. Deep down. When it comes right down to it.

I have been working on my list in my head. Things. Places. The way certain things feel. People I couldn't live without. Ten items. Or less.

Overheard

I live in a college town. And it's that time of year again.

So today I heard the following conversation near campus:

guy: "So, yeah. I started drinking at like 7pm Friday and didn't stop until 3am Monday."

girl: "Do you feel okay?"

guy: "oh, yeah. I'm fine... but by Sunday I was physically incapable of getting drunk."

girl: (without a trace of irony) "...But you tried, right???"

________

Fall just wouldn't be the same without the annual influx of brilliant teenagers.

How Much is Too Much

I wrote the following a few months ago, in the midst of the turmoil at my job. Rereading it, I felt like it was worth saying. PLUS if I'm ever going to put it up, it should be now - before I finish my redesign and such. So - now that's it's actually safe to post it without fear of legal action - here it is:

________________

In our daily lives we make sacrifices. We make compromises. Because the world doesn't always work the way you want it to, because sometimes your needs outweigh your principles. Because there are often more people effected by a decision than simply ourselves.

Right now I am deciding whether or not to remain at my job.

There are little things, but there are always little things. Every job has imperfections and these are acceptable, because every environment has it's faults.

But there is also a very large problem. One that I can no longer ignore.

Last Friday a co-worker confronted me in a threatening manner over a minor misunderstanding. The essentially one-way conversation involved an angry tirade and an implied physical threat. This is not the first time this person has exploded at someone. He has yelled at me before. He has cursed out our receptionist. Attempting to intimidate his co-workers is a part of how he interacts. This past Friday is the first time I have seen him actually go so far as to threaten someone.

I have formally lodged a complaint with my employer. Due to the serious illness of a close family member of my employer's, I am trying to understand his need for a few days to sort this out. It has not yet been addressed. I cannot imagine there being any sufficient response other than the firing of this man. I cannot understand why this man still works here, other than the fact that he simply has a great deal of knowledge that we need access to. I do not know what my employer is going to do.

I cannot afford to be unemployed. There is little available in my field in town. I don't really want to move, at least, not right now.

Every moment I sit here, waiting for my employer to do the right thing and worrying that he won't - I feel like I'm sacrificing pieces of myself.

People who know me would be surprised that I let someone rip into me. More surprised if they saw the way I cowered, mumbling agreement with anything he said, just praying he would leave if I didn't argue. Hoping that if I agreed with him he wouldn't hit me. I tend to be an aggressive person. I've learned to be that way. Most of the time it works, most of the time it kicks in when I need it and it protects me. But sometimes another person's aggression crosses a line, a threshold of tolerance for me and I find myself in a familiar but long-absent place - frozen by my own fear. I've gone over this incident again and again in my head, trying to understand my own reaction to it. Why I feel so depressed. Why it's difficult for me to be in the building right now, as I type.

I was physically abused as a child, I've talked on here about being raped in my late teens, years ago I had difficulty with being harassed in the workplace at another job (all of which paints the picture of a perpetual victim, which I must assure you I am far from being). I have stood up for myself significantly more often than not in life, but in some instances, in THOSE instances, I failed to or was unable to protect myself. I cannot stand the idea of sitting idly by and letting myself be stepped on. Not now. Never again. I can't stand the idea of working for someone who would allow that.

Friday afternoon, I found myself cowering. Me. Cowering. For the first time in so very many years. That which does not kill us does make us stronger, right? Anyway, it lowers the threshold of what we are willing to tolerate. I am quickly reaching zero. I am not angry (I should be angry, why am I not angry?). I am just longing to do what I must to take care of myself. To look myself in the mirror and feel secure that THIS time I didn't let myself down.

Does everyone go through this, this strange self-knowledge? Learning the point at which you break, and at what point you refuse to be silent? I thought I knew this about myself, but here I am again. Trying to see my way through.

_____________

It took almost three months to find another position. The whole time I struggled, wanting to just walk away. When I was told that I had to tolerate the situation because, "Every workplace has someone like him. That's just how it is. We can't get rid of him and anyway, it's his word against yours." I consulted a lawyer and there really isn't very much you can do when you work for a small company and you live in a right-to-work state. It wasn't discrimination because of my sex. He didn't actually hit me. My lawyer told me, with no intention of offence, that if I HAD stood up to the man and he HAD hit me - well, then I'd have a case.

Sometimes doing the right thing for your long term well-being and doing the thing your principles and dignity demand... sometimes those things aren't compatible. So I did my best. I left as soon as I was able. I never said it was okay. I tried to maintain some level of dignity in spite of the fact that I felt intimidated walking in the door every day. And now I'm free and it's over. And I'll never work somewhere like that again. But I hate thinking about it. Because, when I do, I find that in some small way I still kick myself for cowering. Because I feel I let myself down. Sometimes the only person you can count on to stand up for you is YOU... it's important to know you can at least count on that to kick in when the chips are down.

I don't think it's a male-female thing, but I do think that women haven't always been taught to stand up for themselves. And we want to take care of ourselves. Maybe not all of us - but many of us want to be our OWN knight in shining armor. We want to save ourselves. I feel a responsibility to do that for myself and somehow feel incomplete when I don't.

Dame 2.0

Well, folks, I'm working on an updated version of Dame. I haven't been around for a while and I think it's time for a new look and a little housecleaning.

To Dame regulars I would like to offer my apologies. I have really good reasons for having been absent so long. Sometime around June I had some problems in my workplace. I was threatened by a co-worker, there was discussion of legal action and my workplace became a fairly hostile environment. I have spent the past couple of months securing new employment and sorting that situation out. I now have a wonderful new job and am far happier... Because I had discussed my relationship (in relatively vague terms) on here, I should also let regulars know that The Guy and I have called off our engagement. I am alright and hoping he and I will remain good friends. But anyway, suffice it to say that it's been a very hectic time for me.

My life has changed a great deal in the past couple of months.

ALSO, as of today, I have reliable internet access at home for the first time in years. It had become highly impractical to post on my blog when I could not do so without going to great lengths. That situation is no longer. I sit, right now, on my bed with my shiny new laptop (who I have named), writing to you from my home FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME. That's right. 300+ posts and over two years of writing Dame on a break at work, from a friend's computer, at my local library, etc. Imagine how much more I will get done now.

So I'm working on a new look, a new approach... and while I'm at it a whole new life.

I just wanted to pop my head out of the ground for a moment and check in. Changes are a'comin'. Thanks for hanging in there. I miss reading your blogs. I miss having the time to share what I'm interested in. I'm looking forward to getting back in the saddle.

Gender Roles

Today I navigated to Yahoo to check my personal email. Yahoo always displays stories / articles / news / human interest junk for their users to click on.

And today there were two articles about relationships:

For WOMEN : "10 signs that he's willing to commit"

For MEN : "How to tell if she's attracted to you"

It's not just Yahoo. It's everywhere. Obviously popular media STILL assumes that all women want is a long-term commitment and all men want is to know if they're going to get laid.

It's so reassuring to know that some things never change.


Did I just imagine that women's movement and the sexual revolution took place?

7 Songs Meme

Snagged this from Sheila...

"List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they’re not any good, but they must be songs you’re really enjoying now, shaping your spring summer. Post these instructions in your blog along with your seven songs."


"Tiny Dancer" - Elton John
Because I just finished a musical and the music director kept playing this song on the piano during downtime and we would all sing along. It had nothing to do with the show we were doing but it was great. It also took like five or six times of warbling along with the cast to get past the whole "Hold me closer Tony Danza" thing - but I'm so over it and back in love with the song now...

"Dragula" - Rob Zombie
High energy song. I've been going on walks and listening to this. I find it therapeutic. I know. Creepy.

"Fire and Rain" - James Taylor
Someone was playing this a few weeks ago across the street from the theater and I had forgotten how much I love it. It had been years since I consciously chose to listen to this song. So I've been playing it a lot lately.

"A Pirate Looks at Forty" - Jimmy Buffet
I love me some Buffet. Don't judge me. I'm not into Cheeseburger Buffet, I like rankly old sailor Buffet. Wistful drinking too much on a breezy afternoon Buffet. I'm all in the midst of warm fuzzy rediscovery of this love of Buffet.

"A Postcard to Nina" - Jens Lekman
My sister got me hooked on this song recently and I listen to it constantly. It's gorgeous AND funny.

"Spit It Out" - IAMX
Again, a recent addition from my awesome sister. I blast this in my car and howl along like a crazy woman and people look at me askance. Again, therapeutic.

"Rebel, Rebel" - David Bowie
The best song ever. For walking. For dancing in my living room. For singing along in the car. Impossible to think about your woes while bopping along to Rebel, Rebel. Kind of always into this but listening to it a lot lately.

Dorothy Parker

Fair Weather

This level reach of blue is not my sea;
Here are sweet waters, pretty in the sun,
Whose quiet ripples meet obediently
A marked and measured line, one after one.
This is no sea of mine. that humbly laves
Untroubled sands, spread glittering and warm.
I have a need of wilder, crueler waves;
They sicken of the calm, who knew the storm.

So let a love beat over me again,
Loosing its million desperate breakers wide;
Sudden and terrible to rise and wane;
Roaring the heavens apart; a reckless tide
That casts upon the heart, as it recedes,
Splinters and spars and dripping, salty weeds.”

- Dorothy Parker


My sister has that line tattooed on her arm, "They sicken of the calm, who knew the storm." I've always loved it and had never read the poem which was it's source. Parker was renowned for her wit, her sharp tongue, her great mind... but I think in popular culture her sheer talent for words gets forgotten as her legacy is reduced to snippets of humor that are easily dispersed in conversation. The woman who wrote these verses was not simply a humorist or satirist, great though her contributions in that arena may have been.

Tracey's Right - The Best Thing in The World EVER

tromp tromp tromp

I kind of adore Tracey at Pale Page and am inclined to agree with her about many and various things. But this post is a great and magnificent thing about which she is SPOT. ON. I adore her. I adore Cinders the piglet who appears in this story. I am beside myself with glee reading about this little porcine beauty who clearly knows exactly what she wants in life and is satisfied with herself, indeed.

She is a piggy who loves her shoes. She is MY KIND OF PIG.

Shirley MacLaine

photo snagged at Dr. Macro (excellent resource for classic film photos), photo had the header: Hollywood At Home - A Family Album 1950-1965. Photos by Sid Avery

“I don't need anyone to rectify my existence. The most profound relationship we will ever have is the one with ourselves.”

- Shirley MacLaine

Dietrich

“Darling, the legs aren't so beautiful, I just know what to do with them.”

- Marlene Dietrich

She was the original self-made icon. Long before Marilyn altered her voice, washed her face 12 times a day and wore vaseline to catch the light of the camera, Dietrich was crafting an image for herself. She knew exactly how she should be lit and demanded control over lighting and camera angles when being filmed or photographed. She knew the menswear angle worked for her, with her lithe frame, sharp features and deep husky rumble of a voice, and she ordered suits with trousers in every color at a time when no other woman was wearing slacks. In fact, she also sent pantsuits to other women (like Rosemary Clooney, whom she befriended early in the "girl singer's" career), encouraging them to follow suit. She oversaw every detail of her image, both onscreen and off. Couturiers spoke of how she not only made certain every thread was perfectly in place on the exterior of her clothing, but would have an article fit and refit until the seams in the lining were flawless and lay perfecty smooth. If she liked something, she bought it in every possible color and bought multiples so she wouldn't be without it. If she couldn't find something, she had it created. She was crafting an image both beautiful and completely unique unto her.

For whatever reason, that absolute control over her physical appearance and that minute attenton to detail fascinates me. She wasn't the most beautiful woman on screen. She was talented but she wasn't by any means the most talented actress around. And yet, somehow she not only became an enduring icon, but maintained that sultry image well into later life. She knew how to reinvent herself to follow the times. As Wikipedia puts it, "She managed to remain popular by continually re-inventing herself through her long lasting career. During the 1920s she began her work as a cabaret singer, chorus girl and film actress in Berlin. In the 1930s, she became a Hollywood actress, a World War II frontline entertainer, and lastly an international stage show performer from the 1950s to the 1970s. She accomplished the great achievement of managing to become an entertainment icon of the 20th century by the end of her career." For the cabaret routines of her later years, she had bodysuits made of sheer material in order to display her figure to it's best advantage under revealing costumes and present an illusion of ongoing youthfulness in her physique. Even the changes of age and time were things she sought and found new ways to control.

I cannot imagine the effort and energy that went into the image she created, but her life WAS her art. Her hard work and keen eye set an almost unattainably high bar for personal style and made her into a lasting cultural icon.