Girl Detective

I’m beginning to suspect that Project Runway has indeed jumped the shark. I’ve recently watched Season 1 and most of Season 2. They feel so much more compelling than the season 4 group. Perhaps there are still so many designers that it’s hard to separate any from the pack. The Eye Candy challenge seemed fun, though contrived. More contrived than season 2’s plants and season 3’s recycling? Probably not. Elisa and Sweet P both deserved the boot. It had to be Elisa, though, because as soon as someone makes a statement like, “I wanted to be here so I could prove myself after that horrible car accident that cracked my head wide open,” well, that’s tempting fate. Christian’s arrogance and haircut are both ridiculous. Perhaps he’ll end up as the deluded crazy of the season. Is it just me, or do best buds Rami and Jillian seem far too talented and reasonable to be much fun? I did think Jillian deserved the win for doing something more difficult and using the Twizzlers. Oh, and I loved her comment that her model smelled good, too.

Tim Gunn’s blog entry about the ep is good, and check out Project Rungay, where they have fewer nice things to say about Jillian’s Twizzler dress.

#81 in my 2007 movie challenge was Roman Holiday, my last movie watched of the year. It was part of the Audrey Hepburn collection that my thoughtful husband G. Grod got me last year. It’s easy to see how Hepburn became a star after her first major role. She’s perfect as Princess Ann, who plays hooky from royal duties while in Rome. Gregory Peck is the opportunistic reporter who pretends to be her friend in order to nab the story. The adventures, and Peck’s change of heart, are entertaining, if a bit slow. Peck’s not quite believable as an unscrupulous reporter. Holden might have been better. Eddie Albert, though, is hilarious as Peck’s photographer friend. The ending, with Ann’s return to royal duty, seemed much more in keeping with the films during and just after the war. Nonetheless, this was a sweet and funny film with which to end the year.

I’m often asked why I’ve relocated, and STAYED, in Minneapolis.

It’s a reader’s city. And so is neighbor, St. Paul. (Link from Galley Cat)

This Scientific American article (link from the Freakonomics blog) shows me, yet again, an instance of parenting that makes sense when it’s explained, but isn’t necessarily intuitive.

Praising children’s innate abilities….reinforces this mind-set, which can also prevent young athletes or people in the workforce and even marriages from living up to their potential. On the other hand, our studies show that teaching people to have a “growth mind-set,” which encourages a focus on effort rather than on intelligence or talent, helps make them into high achievers in school and in life.

Left to my own devices, I’d praise my kids as clever, not praise them for their hard work.

Some days I believe that if I were to truly trust my instincts, all I’d be doing all day would be saying “Shh!”, “Stop that!” and “Argh!”

#63 in my 2007 book challenge was a re-read of Dickens’s classic Christmas Carol. The story is so well known, but lines such as this were what impressed me:

[it] had a dismal light about it, like a bad lobster in a dark cellar.

My favorite scene is one that’s often left out of adaptations. It’s with the ghost of Christmas Future, and has people haggling over a dead man’s belongings. It’s dark, and reminded me more than a little of characters of Shakespeare. If you think you know the story but haven’t read it, seek it out. I also recommend an edition with art by your favorite illustrator. Mine is the late Trina Schart Hyman. Her edition of Dylan Thomas’s A Child’s Christmas in Wales is another good seasonal selection.

#s 61 and 62 in my 2007 book challenge were the graphic novel collections of Bryan K. Vaughan’s Runaways, volumes 2 and 3. I liked volume 1, but volumes 2 and 3 go on to better things, and cement this series as a solidly entertaining young-adult comic with engaging characters. The kids of the title found out in volume 1 that their parents were supervillains, and that they were being betrayed by one of their own. In volumes 2 and 3, the teens go on to forge their own identities, both as individuals and as a group. Runaways is funny, well written, but best of all it’s consistently surprising. There is lots going on, but narrative balls never get dropped. If you know a teen looking for something good to read, I highly recommend this series.

#60 in my 2007 book challenge was Curses, a graphic novel by Keven Huizenga. This is smart storytelling. Huizenga’s style is deceptively simplistic, more reminiscent of newspaper comics than literary comics like Maus and Persepolis. Yet its in these ranks it belongs, I feel. Mixing mythology, history, religion and the quotidian with a well done and accessible art style, Curses is not easily categorized, and certainly not easily forgotten. Not light reading, but worth the time and effort.

#80 in my 2007 movie challenge was Juno, the indie darling written by former Minnesota stripper and City Pages writer Diablo Cody. At first, critics gushed, then backlash ensued. Naysayers claim the dialogue is precocious, unreal, and that the ending is saccharine. To them, I say “silencio”. Yes, this is not a perfect movie. But it’s a movie I loved. I loved the main character, and her almost unshakable sense of self. I loved Michael Cera as the geeky boy, and love that he’s in a movie that well addresses the female point of view so lacking in Superbad earlier this year. I loved J.K. Simmons as her dad and Alison Janney as her mom. I was impressed by both Jason Bateman and Jennifer Garner as the potential adoptive parents. The soundtrack by Kimya Dawson was great, and reminiscent of the dreamy interweaving from a Wes Anderson film. This was at times sad, funny, creepy, weird and sweet. Don’t listen to the grinches. Go see it.

#59 in my 2007 book challenge was Sara Varon’s graphic novel Robot Dreams. It’s another lovely edition from First Second books, and it’s beautiful both in story and art, as well. Without words, Varon tells the story of a dog who builds a robot friend, only to lose him to unfortunate circumstance. The real versus the dream segments are well contrasted, and the story is sometimes sad but ultimately redemptive and very sweet. I loved it, and so does my 4yo son Drake; it’s a wonderful all-ages book.

#58 in my 2007 book challenge was Pretty Little Mistakes, by NPR’s Heather McElhatton. It’s a grown-up choose-your-own-adventure book. From the first page, the reader makes choices and follows each life story to one of 150 possible conclusions–homeless person, successful doctor, meth addict, and volcano researcher are just a few. My favorite ending involved a child with Down syndrome. That segment was lovely to read, but also interesting to consider in light of the choices that led there. Though a lark at first, the book is an exploration of free will vs. fate, with myriad imagined deities and afterlives (or lack thereof) thrown in for good measure. Not for those who want a complex main character and a linear plot, but entertaining and even at times provocative.

#57 in my 2007 Book Challenge was Mary Gaitskill’s Because They Wanted To, which has sat on my bookshelf in four different abodes over nearly ten years. I should have read this book when I bought it; it would have meant more to me then. Gaitskill’s stories are skillfully crafted and full of painstaking and painful emotional truths, many of which cut so deep I had to set down the book. But they are stories of young women, crashing bullishly through often brutal relationships. Frequently bruised literally and figuratively, though never entirely broken, Gaitskill’s girls are tough to take. Gaitskill’s honesty about the ugliness that underlies so much of sexual relationships is astonishing in its insight and clarity. Ultimately, though, I wanted to shake these girls and tell them to get on with it, to use their obvious talents and move toward maturity, rather than continuing to muck about in their own emotional detritus. Some books I read and appreciate more now that I’m older, married, and a mother. This, I would have appreciated more then, when such things were more relevant. Now, they just feel distant and somewhat poignant, which hardly does justice to the potential power of these stories.

A disturbing recollection: before the book was published, a male friend, with whom I often discussed books, gave me a photocopy of the story “The Girl on the Plane” and said he’d thought it good. Re-reading this story, about a man who confesses to participating in a gang rape of a friend of his, I am bewildered that I did not take offense at this at the time. WTF?

My son Drake will turn five late next August, which makes him eligible to start kindergarten at our local, public schools. A few years ago, I read Beth Hawkins’s excellent article on her challenges with the Minneapolis school choice process. I thought, oh, I’m glad I don’t have to think about that for a while. Well, time’s up, and the choices, they are myriad.

Choice: home school or school-school. I briefly considered teaching my boys at home, for three main reasons. One, I had a terrible experience in public schools, and felt I got a crappy education. I’m skeptical that my boys, already demonstrating brilliance, (I’m sure I’m the ONLY mom who thinks this about her kids) will have a much better experience. Two, most schools start super early, which isn’t good for kids. Three, my admittedly non-comprehensive research shows that early education favors the attention and learning styles of girls, not boys. (The tables turn at adolescence, though, when the boys get the advantage.)

Decision: school-school. After some soul searching, I had to admit that I’m too anxious and irritable to school my kids myself. Perhaps when they’re older, and less about the screaming and crying. (My psychotherapist didn’t hide her relief when I came to this decision. She’d known before I did that I’d benefit from help in schooling my young kids.)

Choice: now or later. Because of Drake’s early birthday, he can start kindergarten just after he turns five. Whether this is a good thing is a subject of hot debate among parents. Do I start him early, because he’s smart, or wait a year, so his social and emotional skills catch up? Also, half day or full day?

Decision: not final, but leaning to later. Other mothers whom I trust are nearly unanimous in their advice to wait a year with a boy. Our pediatrician thought it was a no-brainer–if Drake had been born two weeks later it wouldn’t even be an option. If he does start next year, I’ll do half day. If we wait, I’ll probably do full day.

Choice: School A: K through 8, “open” philosophy, arts focus, start time 8:40am. Bus stop at end of block, then short ride. Most families we know choose this school for their kids.
School B: 5 blocks away. K through 6. Math and science focus. Pretty conventional public school. 7:30am start time. A few people I know choose this school.
School C: 9 blocks away. No specialty. K through 6. 9:10am start time. No one I know has chosen this school.

Decision: On the advice of a friend, I did school tours rather than a fair. I liked A best and B least, even aside from the absurdly early start time. C is a good backup, I think, especially given the later start time, but it was unremarkable in many ways, and I think I’d prefer a K-8.

#80 in my 2007 movie challenge was Will Ferrell’s Blades of Glory. It had enough laugh-out-loud moments to make it worthwhile, though it often dragged. I think the Will Ferrell spoofs are getting less funny each time around, and I wish he’d abandon the sports-spoof formula for something else. I found Amy Poehler and Will Arnett disappointingly not that funny. Jon Heder really stole the show as the pretty young male skater who teams up with his rival to become the first male-male figure skating pair. Scott Hamilton is quite good as an announcer. In the extras, skip the gag reel but check out the feature on how the stars learned to skate. Everyone but Arnett, who played hockey when he was younger, was a newbie on the ice.

No, you may not take that as a title for a children’s book; it’s mine.

Yesterday, nearly-two Guppy demonstrated some of the oppositional behavior he’s learned from his big brother Drake. I did something that displeased him (oh, like trying to get him out of an overly wet diaper, or picking him up when he wanted to be down or vice versa, or some other heinous crime) and he smacked me in the face. With a hippo. So hard that he knocked one of my eyeglass lenses out. And they’re my old eyeglasses, because he already damaged my best, most attractive, very expensive, pre-kid pair.

To add further insult to the pile of injury, that hippo used to be worth a lot of money, and yet I chose to give it to him to chew on and snuggle instead of selling it on Ebay.

It’s incidents like this that come to mind when people gush romantically over how joyful motherhood is. Rubbish. It’s hard work, frequently irritating, often menial, yet periodically rewarding. Like I said: work.

Everything I did today spawned three more tasks. I put something away, but found three things in the wrong place that had to be put elsewhere. Lather, rinse, repeat. I put away clothes, but had to organize drawers so they could fit. I tried to put things in my closet, but had to organize it to find room.

I hate housekeeping; I would rather be reading or writing. Yet I cherish simplicity and order. It’s the domestic Catch-22. Argh.

#56 in my 2007 book challenge is Bryan Lee O’Malley’s Scott Pilgrim Gets It Together. Get it together he does. This hilarious indie series of graphic novels gets funny again after the relative disappointment of, Volume 3, Scott Pilgrim and the Infinite Sadness. Several times reading this book I had to close it and put it down to laugh. This was great fun, and yet another example of a good young adult graphic novel, with fun and funny characters. It doesn’t try to be realistic or serious, and it succeeds spectacularly. Scott Pilgrim, the well-meaning but uncomplicated protagonist, is dating Ramona Flowers, and has to defeat each of her seven evil ex-boyfriends in video-game style fights. Oops, make that “exes.” Scott is also being followed by a mysterious ninja, and about to be evicted from the apartment he shares with gay friend Wallace Wells. Seventeen-year-old Knives Chau claims she’s over Scott, but is she? A girl from Scott’s past arrives to complicate things between him and Ramona. Oh, and Scott tries to get a job. This is only part of what goes on, but the chaos is entertaining and well depicted in O’Malley’s utterly engaging art. I feared for this series after the last book since I loved #s 1 and 2 so much, but I’m happy and sad once again. Happy that Scott Pilgrim got his funny back, but sad because I know it’s going to be a long time till #5.

From “Listening to Film” at The Chronicle of Higher Education (link from Arts and Letters Daily)

If the first rule of film criticism is to watch the movie, the second is to listen to it. Prick up your ears to the aural atmospherics and sonic undertones laid down on the soundtrack – dialogue, background noise, and the most bewitching element in the mix, music.

The author reviews books about John Ford and Alfred Hitchcock, and their musical/directorial choices, and the review alone makes me want to watch and listen to their movies right away.

Last night’s “What’s the Skinny?” was a great challenge, I thought. The “models” are all women who have lost a lot of weight; take their former favorite garment and make something new and chic for them to wear. In the meantime, add a splash of drama when poor Jack gets sick and has to quit to seek medical treatment. This seems awfully harsh–couldn’t PR spring to bring a doc in for him? And to up the contrivance, last week’s eliminee, Chris March is brought back on short notice, just so he can round out the losing trio on the runway. Unkind, but not as unkind as some of the things the judges said in front of the women. “50’s Paris hooker, totally.” Oh, Michael Kors, you are the king of the cutting phrase, but you were referring to this women’s former favorite outfit. Ouch! “Like a french maid, going to a funeral.” That comment, though, on loser Steven’s design, was deserved by him, and vindicated the poor woman whose wedding dress he snubbed. Nina correctly called him on the carpet for the huge opportunity he missed. Again, as I noted last week, Steve’s snark seemed much more honed than his design skills, and he deserved to be off. Now if only one of the other, better, nicer designers would take a crack at the wedding dress, we could all have a happy ending.

In my opinion, Jillian should have been chided, not lauded for not using her raw material. I thought both Rami’s and Ricky’s outfits were better within the confines of the challenge.

I am fervently wishing for fewer tears. Since Jack is ostensibly gone, and I think Ricky is likely to go soon, perhaps things will dry up in the next few weeks.

#78 in my movie challenge for the year was Wes Anderson’s Darjeeling Limited. The reviews have been mixed, but I enjoyed it a lot. I found it quieter and less ostentatiously clever than Anderson’s early films like Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums. I found a lot of sadness and sweetness in the brothers, played by Jason Schwartzman, Owen Wilson and Adrien Brody. There was a tremendous amount of pathos about their relationships with their parents, and with each other. As with Anderson’s other films, the music is deliberately chosen and exquisitely interwoven with the story.

#79 in my 2007 movie challenge was Talk to Her by Pedro Almodovar. It has been sitting on our Tivo hard drive for two and a half years. It’s an odd, quiet movie. While I expect the former from Almodovar, I was surprised by the latter. The film centers around a friendship that develops between two men, who get to know each other as they’re caring for comatose women they love. It’s a bizarre premise, but it’s handled with amazing empathy, and a great deal of tenderness. This is in spite of the often huge swings in tone the movie takes, from funny to creepy, from ethical to personal. There’s much to appreciate here about love, relationships, and loneliness. The fake silent movie in the middle, though, I found too strange and off-putting.