Things I don't understand: episode one

Ultra-realistic labia!

Thanks for your attention.

I saw a wonderful film a few nights ago called 'Lars and the Real Girl' and I was going to write a bit of a movie review but thought, nah. All that I can really think to say about it is, "do yourself a favour and see this film; it's very sweet." And it is; it's a very sensitive film about a man who works through some personal problems with the help of a RealDoll named Bianca and his understanding friends and family. It's a yummy film.


I first became aware of RealDolls, a few years ago when I was doing a postgrad degree in gender studies. They were used as a talking point for ideas about and concepts of sexuality, corporal femininity, object/subject relations, techie-sex, etc. Very many interesting discussions were had indeed.

In one such discussion, I learned of a man who had purchased a RealDoll and a comment that he made has stuck in my head for years. He explained that when he ordered his RealDoll he asked that she have breast implants as he felt that that would make her more realistic to him. Ha! What kind of postmodern craziness is that?! It's so surreal and so fascinating to me that blurry grey bit between fantasy and reality and how differently, different people conceptualize these notions as well as notions of sexuality, human-ness, humanoid-ness, gender, subject/object, etc. I could go on and on...

Also about that time, I watched a documentary about RealDolls on British telly called, 'Guys and Dolls.' Although not as sweet and sensitive as 'Lars and the Real Girl,' it still attempted to portray the men interviewed in an understanding and compassionate light as opposed to allowing it to sway into freakshow territory (those 'documentaries' exist in abundance).

I just googled and found it! I (heart) the internet! Here it is in all its silicone glory. (The vagina repairman scenes are a bit freaky, in that gyno exam gone so entirely wrong kinda way, haha! Viewer discretion advised, I guess). It's an interesting documentary though as it shows that 'Lars' is not necessarily unique or fictional.

'Guys and Dolls':



Hey L, if you need any of this deciphered, let me know. I'm happy to translate (as much as I can, that is!) but here is a good synopsis that explains the show pretty well: http://www.offthetelly.co.uk/reviews/2006/guysanddolls.htm

Gutted.

One of those words that has a bicultural meaning for me. My inner-Canadian thinks, 'caught fish, sliced down the middle, roe and other weird stuff fall out, etc.' My inner-almost-Briton thinks, 'very upset.'

Yesterday, I received back a gift that I gave to someone. A gift that represented affection and good memories. To open a package and see that gift returned, I can say that I felt gutted. I felt like 'caught fish, sliced down the middle, roe and other weird stuff fall out, etc.' Completely eviscerated.

How very Canadian I am.

Who hasn't had a day when you feel like this?

Blimey! =:-O

I love it though! The calmness of the others around to let her just spinout is interesting (to me). I bet she felt great after that!

Does anyone (N?) know what she is saying?

Happy SAD!

I'm talking Singles Awareness Day, a day for people who are single to celebrate or not celebrate being single... while many couples deal with the social, spousal and consumer pressures to celebrate Valentine's Day.

I'm not fanatically anti-Valentine's Day. I actually think it's a sweet idea but how it can playout is just so depressing to me.

Yesterday was a Friday. Normally on Fridays I buy fresh flowers because I like having flowers around. So yesterday, also being the day before today, Valentine's Day, when I was in the grocery store, I saw a lot of Valentine's Day flower arrangements being purchased. Though I buy my flowers from a grocery store, I am not buying them to express affection to myself. I'm not trying to make an impression.

Watching people slap their Valentine's Day gifts on the check-out conveyor belt thingy along side their toilet bowl cleaner and Ritz Crackers was so entirely unromantic to me. It's a lesson in how not to be romantic and frankly, how not to get laid!

It made me think about the Valentine's Day gifts that I have received; my first boyfriend's made-from-scratch heart-shaped pizza with 'I love you' written in black olives, his weird and wonderful wire art things and his wood carvings. He always made his Valentine's Day, and other, gifts. Another boyfriend always wrote silly and often very sappy limericks and one year brought home a baby snake that he rescued (really, this was very sweet).

I still have all of these gifts except the pizza and the snake! or perhaps I should say, I remember and treasure these gifts and I feel fortunate that I received them. I know that I likely received grocery store flowers as well and although that is not necessarily a horrible thing, I just do not remember those gifts. Not at all. They made no lasting impression, none whatsoever. And isn't that the point? How unromantic is that?

Anyway, back to Happy SAD... this Valentine's Day, I am single and a friend of mine, who is also single, suggested that we might go to this 'singles party' tonight. When she mentioned it we both bursted out laughing...

I thought this was rather funny as well:


Happy SAD to my solo buddies!

Eureka-ha-ha!

Yesterday afternoon I was in my local Thrifties, shopping for food. They have sensible, small half-carts that are easy to manoeuvre, take up less space in the crowded aisles and hold enough for most shoppers. They also have a few of the old style, bathtub-sized kind.

So, I'm there pondering a pineapple purchase when BANG! I turn around to see that some man had hit my half-cart with his cart. Not one of the sensible carts, oh no, but one of the big old jalopy carts. He apologised, I returned a 'hey no problem' and decided 'no' about the pineapple.

Then, I thought, 'I know that man from somewhere...' and it's bothered me until now! He was the man who T-boned me and my lovely car Rusty in December! The man is out to get me! Ha ha!

Feels good to have that 'I know that man' thought figured out and I like how the symbolism of the shopping carts reinacted our previous meeting. I'm not sure if the pineapple has any symbolic meaning here...

The non-painting painting class.

Last night was my painting class. People were the object d'art for the lesson and we were to bring in photos of people we knew, or whatever, to paint. Most people brought photos of their children or them and their spouses. I brought 'whatever' in the form of a woman doing some sort of yoga torture posture. I thought it looked cool and would be fun to paint.

Oh, but no...

As I've said elsewhere, I'm not very good at drawing and trying to draw this yoga woman proved very difficult for me. Ms Painting Instructor Woman, Hazel Medlyn sensed my frustration and offered some excellent advice: 'If you can't draw feet, make it really obvious that you can't draw feet'... and went on to say that (paraphrased) if your brain doesn't want to draw feet, don't force it to, play with the feet... perhaps your brain has a better idea that you need to listen to... go with what you perceive as a "weakness," flip it around, play with it and turn it into a strength.

So I did... I can't draw feet, hands or heads and so I let them be silly. I have to admit that I'm quite pleased with the results! Ms Yogasnorkelgirl will eventually be painted but in last night's class is was her time to be figured out.



No paint but an excellent lesson! And a generally unseen part of the process of what goes into a painting. Two and a half hours of a painting course with no painting done is not necessarily a waste of time; it's just two and half hours of time in the process of painting a painting.

Ah, I feel all yummy...

I am learning American Sign Language (ASL). The other night I was given my 'sign name' by Sheila, my ASL teacher. Essentially this is a shortened form of one's name. I mean, instead of fingerspelling M.A.R.N.I.E. each time I or someone else 'says' my name, a shortened quick gesture is used.

What is very cool is that your sign name should only be given to you by someone who is Deaf. Making up your own or having someone who is 'hearing' give you one is a cultural no-no. It is a sort of rite of passage to have a sign name.

Mine is made by forming the 'M' in fingerspelling and brushing the 'M' sideways against my cheek, from the corner of my mouth up towards my ear but not all the way to my ear, as if to extend that half of my smile. I love it!

More beasties...

Yesterday was another sunny day! <-- I can't believe I just typed that in February as normally at this time of year I have forgotten about that big ball of fire on the otherside of the ever present greyness.

And again the beasties are posing...

Orcas out in Juan de Fuca Strait. Yes, I know, these aren't great whale pics but it's wonderful to see whales even if they are way off shore. I chatted with a man who had a very zoomy lens and he pointed out that there were two pods out there. He'd been watching them all afternoon and figured there was about 10 in one pod and 20 in another. Now I want a big zoomy lens...





More of the river otter... awww....





Later in the day, things get a bit creepy...

More bothering...

Moisturising antiperspirant? WTF? Who knew Dove packaged and sold irony? Or would oxymoron be the proper term here?

Anyways... Age-appropriate underarm products? Aging underarms? Just as I let go of one corporal anxiety...

The bothering, it's not my fault (never is!). I wasn't suckered into the hype. I didn't even look at the writing on the product, I just bought a few sticks as it was on sale, very cheap (@ $1.50 each, how could I not?) and moisturising antiperspirant for the elderly is a concept that never even occured to me.

Perhaps I will post before and after shots of my aging underarms. I figure after three sticks, I will have reclaimed the pits of my youth. Pah!

I finally had my camera with me!

It was a glorious day again today! This has been a wonderful winter; lots of varied weather from freezing, snowy days to wind storms to 15C sunny, spring weather. All very different from the usual winter grey damp dullness. I went to Esquimalt Lagoon and the Breakwater today to soak it all up, camera in hand... and the wildlife cooperated!

Who remembers Bob Ross?

And his 'happy little trees' and his 'ooooh, let me clean my brush'... whap-a-dee, whap, whap!

I'm not very good at drawing and, well, I'm taking a how to paint course for a reason. Last night's lesson was about painting a still life. 'Oh crap!' I thought as I gazed at the posing vegetables. I didn't know how or where to start. Suddenly, Bob Ross and his 'fro popped into my head... "We don't make mistakes, we just have happy little accidents."

Wasn't he the coolest? Although aesthetically his paintings were not to my taste, he was a pure pleasure to watch and listen to. His 'Joy of Painting' was quite possibly the most hypnotic TV show that I've ever seen. He really emphasized that painting can be just for fun and it was with that attitude that I approached last night's still life. It's not finished yet but, so far, I'm quite pleased with my 'happy little tomatoes!'

All you wanna do is ride around Marnie...

About xmas time, while driving Rusty, I was t-boned at an intersection by a Nissan Sentra. It was all so slow and surreal and thankfully nobody was injured... except for my dear Rusty. Ouch!


A few days ago he went into the bodyshop to get a new door put on and a paint job... oh, and a wonderful cleaning up as well. He looks and smells all brand new again. He's very happpy, as am I.

While Rusty was in the shop, I got a choice of loaner vehicles; a freebie Colbalt or for five bucks more a day an upgrade to a convertible, Mustang GT with a V8. Inner-conflict starts up; my inner tree-hugger vs my inner redneck. I looked out the window, it was sunny. It's never sunny in January on the coast. It was 'a sign'... get the convertible, Marnie.... and the redneck won.


I had a wonderful time flying up the Malahat and cruising along the ocean. It's a very fun car to drive and I loved the sound it made... and the vibration, of course. ;-) But wow, it really did guzzle the fuel. Again, inner-conflict as I blast through the gorgeous rainforest, squirrels coughing in my wake.

It's at these times I remember a quote, by German philosopher Adorno, that my dear friend Simon (hi Simon!) told me about: Wrong life cannot be lived rightly.

To me, this means that we live in a capitalist society and that capitalism is essentially 'wrong' and no matter what we do, our actions implicate us in societal wrongness. Another way to put it is: you can't polish a turd! And I'm just trying to be philosofickle about choosing pleasure over the greater good... but does that even matter?

Anyways, off to plant a dozen trees, now.