I will admit, the coffee we buy at our grocery store is of the Starbucks brand. Ethics and morals put aside, we like the taste of it. Which reminds me, we should switch our brand. Then again, Starbucks might be a good guy, and I just haven't done my research. But that's not the point of this story.
The point is that with the purchase of each bag, you receive a free tall (which, for any of you not familiar with Starbucks terms, is actually the small), brewed coffee in exchange. All you do is take the bag in, and you get a coffee in return. It says so, printed on the bag. So we took two of these bags to the nearest Starbucks to redeem our prize.
It was about 95 degrees outside, and we were on our way to Luckenbach, about an hour and a half from Austin, without AC in the car. And I wanted iced coffee. I realize perhaps I am out of tune with barista technology, but at home, when I want iced coffee, I simply pour out of the hot coffeepot into a glass filled with ice.
When I ordered the iced coffee at Starbucks, however, they told me they couldn't give me an iced coffee - the bag was only redeemable for a hot coffee. (Which is not true - it does not specify hot or cold on the bag.) Regardless of my convictions, I felt I'd be cooperative and comply with their policy.
Then, I asked, "How much is a cup of ice?"
"We don't charge for that," they replied. "We'll give you a cup of ice, no problem!"
So I took my hot brewed coffee, took the lid off, and poured it into the ice-filled cup they gave me for free.
I ended up throwing away about two ounces of coffee, plus the cup, lid, and cardboard sheath that were only in service for a minute.
I wonder, why, they could not have just poured the hot coffee into the cup with ice, to begin with?
DIY Iced Coffee! New at Starbucks. Low in calories, just the way you want it.
25 June 2010
Falling Buildings and Skeletons
In the last year, I've had extremely vivid dreams, the kind that leave a residue throughout your waking day. Some have been pleasant, some have been terrifying, but most of them have been anxious and absurd. Chaotically disconnected scenes.
Last night, I dreamed about falling buildings, marriage, and skeletons.
The falling building scene happened three times, each time with a different ending, like a choose-your-own adventure book.
In the first version, I was sitting in a lobby of an old residential high rise, from the turn of the century. The interior of the lobby was quite modern, but in the second version, as I saw the building fall from far away, I saw that the building was quite old, made of stone, built in a Romanesque Revival style. But back to the first version. We - me and a few other people who were connected to me in some way but I could not recognize - were sitting in this lobby when the earth undulated two or three times. At first, we thought it might be an earthquake, but then it registered to everyone that the building was about to collapse. Everyone started to run out of the building. Except for me. My body was frozen. I was glued to chair. I called out to someone to please take my hand and take me with them. But I had the feeling no one would come back, and I was doomed to die.
In the second version, we were all sitting in the lobby once again. It started just like the first version. But I had the knowledge of the first version in my dreaming memory. So, before we actually felt the earth undulate, I sprang from my chair and I told everyone to run out with me. Only one girl heeded my advice, following right behind me, and I urged her to run with me far, far, far away from the building. It wasn't enough to get out of the building, or far from the building, but it was necessary to get extremely far from the building, so as to avoid being crushed by the collapsing debris.
When we were far enough to be safe, we turned around and watched the building lurch forward, then backward, and finally crumble into pieces. I asked the girl who'd followed me, with great anguish, whether she thought everyone had gotten out in time. She said she didn't believe they had, as they'd all been intent on running back into their apartments to take out their belongings. I found this to be ridiculous - who wants to save personal belongings when a building is about to fall? I had a sad feeling overcome me, because I knew there were family members in that building.
Then, as if the dream were a movie, the camera zoomed into the rubble and showed some of the people in a room on the first floor, who were sitting around conferences tables, as if in the middle of a meeting. For a few seconds, some appeared alive, but after a few seconds, they collapsed like deflating dummies. The ones who seemed dead, sprang to life, as if waking from a dream. This part of the dream seemed almost comical, exaggerated, like a cartoon.
Before the third version of the collapsing building, the scene cuts to preparations for a wedding. My wedding. I am getting married to Shand. We are having a very small wedding, outside, in a tent. But it happens very suddenly, with very little planning, and we gather whatever family members and friends who are able to attend on short notice. I'm dressed in white, but it's not really a wedding dress. My hair is a mess, and I haven't put on any make up. I excuse myself, as we're still waiting for some of the musicians, to run to the bathroom and freshen up.
In a hurry, I put on my makeup, but I accidentally applied pink lip gloss on instead of eye shadow, and in a frenzy, I try to wipe it off and cover it up with eye shadow. I try to trim my hair, flying off in many directions. Before I'm done, someone is sent to me from the wedding party to let me know I am holding up the wedding, and that the guests are starting to believe I decided not to show up. My grandmother, who has been dead for nearly three years but is somehow present at the wedding, delivers the message that she feels something is wrong, wrong because I'm not there on time. I deliver a message back, assuring that I am fine, that everything will be fine, and I'm simply trying to make myself look pretty for the wedding.
Shortly after, I make it back to the tent. The trumpeter has left, but it's no worry, there are still two or three other musicians to make the band. And the wedding continues. The groom and I kiss in a fairy-tale romance way, and I start to think it perhaps is a fairy-tale, that it's not real. But the reception room is being set up with plates and glasses and food and drink, in the meeting room in the lobby of the building that collapses, where dead people come to life and live people die.
The scene cuts to the lobby, and this time, the groom and I are there, waiting for the reception to begin. But he now has the knowledge, in his dream memory, of the building about to collapse, and he takes my hand, and we fly out of the building.
Then I am logging on to something like Facebook
I watch the video, at first from the point of view of me watching it on the computer. My friend, the musician, is jumping off a cactus, making a tumbling pirouette into the air - and then I start to see it from his point of view. I see sky, sand and rocks, then sky, and then I am sucked back out of his point of view, watching it from the desert, as if I am standing there with him, and I see him land on his face onto a pile of rocks. He is disoriented, seemingly in pain, terrified, and I run to help him up the hill where his girlfriend is waiting.
As I help him along, I see a young woman come up behind me from the bottom of the hill. She looks like she might be from Haiti. She has pamphlets in her hand, and I sense she is trying to sell me something, so I hurry faster helping my friend to the top of the hill. But I've made eye contact with the woman, and she catches up to us. She is trying to tell me if I've heard about what she is about to tell me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see photographs of dead people, half turned to skeletons. I tell her I cannot look, I am not interested, and my friend just had a terrible accident, and he will be mortified to see these photos.
My friend seems to be losing his mind, as I push him into the back seat of the car and slam the door. The young Haitian woman tells me if I know about the monster that has visited these parts of the desert. I tell her I haven't, and I run to the other side of the car, and jump into the front passenger seat, telling my friend she needs to hurry up and drive out of here as fast as possible, into town. She slams on the gas, and we drive out of this area, on a gravelly dirt road, and just up ahead, I see a blue pick up truck pull into the road ahead of us, and the Haitian girl is sitting in the back in the bed of the truck, watching us. And I have this realization that we cannot escape death. It's waiting for us, ahead.
Last night, I dreamed about falling buildings, marriage, and skeletons.
The falling building scene happened three times, each time with a different ending, like a choose-your-own adventure book.
In the first version, I was sitting in a lobby of an old residential high rise, from the turn of the century. The interior of the lobby was quite modern, but in the second version, as I saw the building fall from far away, I saw that the building was quite old, made of stone, built in a Romanesque Revival style. But back to the first version. We - me and a few other people who were connected to me in some way but I could not recognize - were sitting in this lobby when the earth undulated two or three times. At first, we thought it might be an earthquake, but then it registered to everyone that the building was about to collapse. Everyone started to run out of the building. Except for me. My body was frozen. I was glued to chair. I called out to someone to please take my hand and take me with them. But I had the feeling no one would come back, and I was doomed to die.
In the second version, we were all sitting in the lobby once again. It started just like the first version. But I had the knowledge of the first version in my dreaming memory. So, before we actually felt the earth undulate, I sprang from my chair and I told everyone to run out with me. Only one girl heeded my advice, following right behind me, and I urged her to run with me far, far, far away from the building. It wasn't enough to get out of the building, or far from the building, but it was necessary to get extremely far from the building, so as to avoid being crushed by the collapsing debris.
When we were far enough to be safe, we turned around and watched the building lurch forward, then backward, and finally crumble into pieces. I asked the girl who'd followed me, with great anguish, whether she thought everyone had gotten out in time. She said she didn't believe they had, as they'd all been intent on running back into their apartments to take out their belongings. I found this to be ridiculous - who wants to save personal belongings when a building is about to fall? I had a sad feeling overcome me, because I knew there were family members in that building.
Then, as if the dream were a movie, the camera zoomed into the rubble and showed some of the people in a room on the first floor, who were sitting around conferences tables, as if in the middle of a meeting. For a few seconds, some appeared alive, but after a few seconds, they collapsed like deflating dummies. The ones who seemed dead, sprang to life, as if waking from a dream. This part of the dream seemed almost comical, exaggerated, like a cartoon.
Before the third version of the collapsing building, the scene cuts to preparations for a wedding. My wedding. I am getting married to Shand. We are having a very small wedding, outside, in a tent. But it happens very suddenly, with very little planning, and we gather whatever family members and friends who are able to attend on short notice. I'm dressed in white, but it's not really a wedding dress. My hair is a mess, and I haven't put on any make up. I excuse myself, as we're still waiting for some of the musicians, to run to the bathroom and freshen up.
In a hurry, I put on my makeup, but I accidentally applied pink lip gloss on instead of eye shadow, and in a frenzy, I try to wipe it off and cover it up with eye shadow. I try to trim my hair, flying off in many directions. Before I'm done, someone is sent to me from the wedding party to let me know I am holding up the wedding, and that the guests are starting to believe I decided not to show up. My grandmother, who has been dead for nearly three years but is somehow present at the wedding, delivers the message that she feels something is wrong, wrong because I'm not there on time. I deliver a message back, assuring that I am fine, that everything will be fine, and I'm simply trying to make myself look pretty for the wedding.
Shortly after, I make it back to the tent. The trumpeter has left, but it's no worry, there are still two or three other musicians to make the band. And the wedding continues. The groom and I kiss in a fairy-tale romance way, and I start to think it perhaps is a fairy-tale, that it's not real. But the reception room is being set up with plates and glasses and food and drink, in the meeting room in the lobby of the building that collapses, where dead people come to life and live people die.
The scene cuts to the lobby, and this time, the groom and I are there, waiting for the reception to begin. But he now has the knowledge, in his dream memory, of the building about to collapse, and he takes my hand, and we fly out of the building.
Then I am logging on to something like Facebook
I watch the video, at first from the point of view of me watching it on the computer. My friend, the musician, is jumping off a cactus, making a tumbling pirouette into the air - and then I start to see it from his point of view. I see sky, sand and rocks, then sky, and then I am sucked back out of his point of view, watching it from the desert, as if I am standing there with him, and I see him land on his face onto a pile of rocks. He is disoriented, seemingly in pain, terrified, and I run to help him up the hill where his girlfriend is waiting.
As I help him along, I see a young woman come up behind me from the bottom of the hill. She looks like she might be from Haiti. She has pamphlets in her hand, and I sense she is trying to sell me something, so I hurry faster helping my friend to the top of the hill. But I've made eye contact with the woman, and she catches up to us. She is trying to tell me if I've heard about what she is about to tell me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see photographs of dead people, half turned to skeletons. I tell her I cannot look, I am not interested, and my friend just had a terrible accident, and he will be mortified to see these photos.
My friend seems to be losing his mind, as I push him into the back seat of the car and slam the door. The young Haitian woman tells me if I know about the monster that has visited these parts of the desert. I tell her I haven't, and I run to the other side of the car, and jump into the front passenger seat, telling my friend she needs to hurry up and drive out of here as fast as possible, into town. She slams on the gas, and we drive out of this area, on a gravelly dirt road, and just up ahead, I see a blue pick up truck pull into the road ahead of us, and the Haitian girl is sitting in the back in the bed of the truck, watching us. And I have this realization that we cannot escape death. It's waiting for us, ahead.
17 June 2010
Movies I Saw in 2007
Inspired by my brilliant filmmaker and film critic friend, Carlos Herrera (visit his blog www.exiledfromcontentment.blogspot.com), I decided to also keep a tally and journal of the films I watch. Except, unlike Carlos, my list is entirely comprised of films watched on Netflix, and rarely any made after 1975.
My movie-watching activity can only be traced back to November 2007, so I will start with that year and try to recall as much I can about my thoughts on each film. UMG-endorsed films followed by a red star *. Double stars ** mean that I loved the movie.
(Disclaimer: I am extremely discriminating before watching a movie. You will see that throughout most of 2007 and 2008, I had plenty of amazing films to catch up on available through the watch-me-now feature. But as I approach 2009 and 2010, I've exhausted the repertoire of instant viewing options, and you'll see many less endorsements.)
My movie-watching activity can only be traced back to November 2007, so I will start with that year and try to recall as much I can about my thoughts on each film. UMG-endorsed films followed by a red star *. Double stars ** mean that I loved the movie.
(Disclaimer: I am extremely discriminating before watching a movie. You will see that throughout most of 2007 and 2008, I had plenty of amazing films to catch up on available through the watch-me-now feature. But as I approach 2009 and 2010, I've exhausted the repertoire of instant viewing options, and you'll see many less endorsements.)
- Angel Heart (1987): Watched this movie during a streak of curiosity about things New Orleans and/or voodoo. It was hard to shake off the image of Lisa Bonet in anything other than the Cosby Show, but Mickey Rourke still had his youthful, clean-cut look. I remember there were some creepy and gory scenes, and overall, I enjoyed the movie as solid, relatively well-written entertainment. There is a twist at the end that you won't fully expect.*
- I Walked with a Zombie / Body Snatcher (1943): I don't remember much about the Body Snatcher, but I do remember that for a movie made in the early 1940s, the voodoo scenes - particularly with the drumming sound effect - were quite spooky. One my favorite parts of the movie was Sir Lancelot performing the Fort Holland Calypso Song, which he wrote.**
- The Bicycle Thief (1948): I first watched this in a screenwriting class at Carnegie Mellon, with the fabulous professor and writer Sharon Dilworth. So 9 years later, I felt it was time to watch it again. The simplicity of the plot is something every aspiring filmmaker should study. Also, it's a very depressing film, but beautifully shot.**
- Nights of Cabiria (1957): You might say this film could not exist without the direction of Federico Fellini, but I would say that it could not exist without the exquisite acting of Giulietta Masina. She is half clown, half woman, playing the role of Maria "Cabiria" Ceccarelli. She is sad and she is happy, she is beautiful and clumsy. So clumsy, she is not very good at being a prostitute, and you feel rather embarrassed for her.**
- The Lady from Shanghai (1947): One of Orson Welles' finest. I can only recall the ending scene with the mirrors and the shooting. A true depiction of "smoke in mirrors."**
- Emperor of the North Pole (1973): I'll admit, I fell asleep through most of this one because we watched it very late at night. This was one of Shand's picks. The best part was Lee Marvin yelling to Keith Carradine at the end, "Stay off the tracks. Forget it. Its a bum's world for a bum. You'll never be Emperor of the North Pole, kid. You had the juice, kid, but not the heart and they go together. You're all gas and no feel, and nobody can teach you that, not even A-No.1. So stay off the train, she'll throw you under for sure. Remember me for that. So long, kid."*
- City of God (2002): Haunting cinematography, and unbelievable that these violent, impoverished favelas are homes to humans. You will probably feel grateful for whatever your living conditions are after you see this movie. You will also be resigned to think that crime and corruption and violence are never-ending cycles. It's useless to stop it.**
- Bugsy (1991): All I can remember is Warren Beatty, and that's because I cheated and looked it up on IMDB. Unmemorable film.
- La Strada (1954): Who can forget the wailing trumpet theme? Again, here you have half-clown half-woman Giulietta Masina, playing a character named Gelsomina who actually plays the part of the clown, along with Anthony Quinn, who plays a mean old man named Zampanò. Another Fellini masterpiece. Possibly, the most brilliant movie ever made, epic in scale, following the life of a girl as she's sold off by her family to marry and perform with a performing strongman, and travels "the road."**
- Shampoo (1975): All I can remember is Warren Beatty, and that's because I cheated and looked it up on IMDB. Unmemorable film. Although I do remember it was funny and entertaining.*
- A Dry White Season (1989): A movie I saw in some politics class in college that I decided to watch again because I was on a kick about seeing films about South African apartheid. Stars Donald Sutherland and Susan Sarandon. How's that for a power couple?*
- The Power of One (1992): A movie I saw in some politics class in college that I decided to watch again because I was on a kick about seeing films about South African apartheid. Except if you're a sap for tragic love stories, this movie has one between Peekay and Geel.**
- McCabe & Mrs. Miller (1971): Did I say Susan Sarandon and Donald Sutherland on screen together were a power couple? Never mind. Try Warren Beatty as McCabeBeatty movie)! Directed by Robert Altman.**
- The Shooting (1967): If you think you've seen Jack Nicholson in everything, you haven't, if you haven't seen this movie. A Monte Hellman western that's all about - well, the shooting. This movie also planted the seeds for my later adoration of Warren Oates.**
- The Thomas Crown Affair (1968): Steve McQueen is so dreamy. That's right, I'm not talking about the 1999 version with Pierce Brosnan. Nah. I'm talking about the 1968 version with hot and sexy McQueen. Who can blame Faye Dunaway's character? Impossible to resist the temptation.**
- Inland Empire (2006): The problem with a David Lynch movie is that it's so twisted and complicated, watching one is like being on drugs, so I think I'll have to watch this one again and get back to you.*
- Forgiving Dr. Mengele (2006): A documentary about an elder Jewish woman who survives medical experiments performed on her at a WWII Auschwitz concentration camp (her twin does not survive) going through the process of forgiving the doctor.
- You're Gonna Miss Me (2005): Documentary about the legendary rock musician from Austin, Roky Erickson. His mother is creepy.*
- Cowboy del Amor (2005): Documentary about Ivan Thompson, a 60-year-old man from New Mexico who offers matchmaking services American men who want to find Mexican women to marry, all for a low fee of $3,000. The documentary follows three of his clients. He's for real, too. You can call this self-proclaimed Cowboy Cupid at 505-531-2681 or e-mail him at ivanthompson1941@hotmail.com.*
- My Best Fiend: Klaus Kinski (1999): Fascinating documentary about Werner Herzog's experience living with his friend, and main actor of many of his films, Klaus Kinski. Klaus is insane.*
- Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1967): Sex. Drugs. Rock'n'Roll. And much more, if you can believe it. It's probably considered an underground cult film, and probably offensive to many, but I found it wildly entertaining.**
- Hoffa (1992): History-based fiction movie on the famous Pittsburgh union teamster. If you're in the mood for a very polished, straight-up, follow-the-standard-rules-of-cinema, historical genre file, then watch this. Starring Jack Nicholson, written by David Mamet, and directed by Danny DeVito.
- Klute (1971): Very obscure mystery romance starring Donald Sutherland playing a detective investigating dead and missing people, who gets involved with a prostitute played by Jane Fonda.*
- Bad Day at Black Rock (1955): Not your typical western, starring Lee Marvin and Ernest Borgnine.*
- The Tiger and the Snow (2005): I watched this because I'd seen Roberto Benigni in Life Is Beautiful and generally enjoyed it, but this was a bit too much on the whimsical side for my tastes.
- The Ballad of Cable Hogue (1970): Well darn it, I can't remember anything about it. But it's a Sam Peckinpah film, so it must be fabulous, and I'll just have to watch it again.*
- East of Eden (1955): One my favorite movies of all time based on a John Steinbeck novel, directed by Elia Kazan, who makes intelligent and heart-wrenching movies. His movies get under your skin and somehow connect to the most emotionally dark moments in your life when you feel as if you've been kicked in the stomach. And beautiful cinematography.**
- Five Easy Pieces (1970): Jack Nicholson, an angry and genius pianist turned oil-rig worker, goes back home to visit his ill father, with his ditzy waitress girlfriend in tow. How it turns out between them at the end is funny, even though it's not funny.*
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