No secret

That big blue cat people are hot. No, really. They are.

By now, pretty much everybody I know (and thanks to the last post I made, so does the whole Internet) is aware that I am utterly obsessed with Avatar. Utterly.

So I want to set some things straight, mostly because I get all defensive about reviews calling it shallow, or derivative, or a white man’s fantasy. Which it is. But that’s not why I like it.

Why do I like it?

Because the economy is crap, I am frustrated, having reached that age when you sort of realize how everything works and are disillusioned by this realization. And for almost three hours, in glorious 3D, I am in a completely different place, where a white guy can be something else, and can win, and everybody wins who you want to win, and science wins (I wanted it to) and pretty much everything happens they way you hope it might.

I read a comparison between Avatar and Project 880, Cameron’s original scriptment, [SPOILERS; read at your own risk] and I understand the quality and potential that was lost in translating the script to film (the original, uncut, would likely have made a 5 hour movie). It helped explain some of the holes in the film, so much that I really don’t mind them. Anybody have a copy of that script? I’d really like to read it.

Personally, I hated Pocahontas. I hated how cheesy it was. Even though this movie is roughly the same film (there’s a great side-by-side comparison out there), I didn’t hate it.

Quite the opposite. I read a blog post today that sheds some light on why I may have liked it so much, given my other film preferences (and the fact that I follow SRK on Twitter). Bollywood! Makes perfect sense!

Well, and sometimes it’s nice to have something be simple, elementary, and a complete fairy tale. I had forgotten how nice those are.

(But Mr. Cameron, I’m expecting more from you in those sequels you are going to make because you’ve grossed $1billion on the film so far)

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I am so glad not to be on vacation.

Which sounds crazy, I know, but it’s true. So here’s the deal.

My parents live in Arkansas, which is where I grew up, although I won’t usually admit that too readily.

Arkansas is a warm place. It snowed more than four inches only once in my memory. We’ve had wicked ice storms and little flurries and lots of scary tornadoes, but snow is rare.

Thanks, all you little wee ones who asked Santa for snow. It was lovely, except when it wasn’t.

My  holiday went a little something like this:

Went to the rental car place early (we were the first ones there, and partook in free coffee and donuts), and picked up our wee, fuel-efficient car.

Packed up the car with all our stuff (prepared in advance), and got out on the road to Arkansas.

Stopped at Eli’s Barbecue Grill in Tupelo, MS for lunch. Best. Barbecue. Ever. We will go again. Left with a metric assload of fried okra, but still were unable to tip the waitress. (Dad ate the okra when we arrived later).

Drove six hours through heavy rain to Ft. Smith, with a short stop at Taco Bueno for dinner. Was surprised at how posh Taco Bueno has become. So posh!

Hung out with my mom and then went to bed.

On the eve of Christmas, we did some pick-up shopping. We ate lunch at Basil, a surprisingly excellent Thai restaurant in Barling. I had no idea that we’d find that. In Barling! Wow. My brother called from Ft. Worth to say that it had begun snowing there, and that he was heading out. I distinctly heard my mother tell him not to come if the weather is bad. He left anyway.

Went home to trim the tree and think about going to Mass. At about 6, it started to snow in Ft. Smith. My brother called because he had attempted a u-turn on the highway near Sherman and had driven off the road. He called again after another 45 minutes to let us know that somebody had pulled him out and he was back on the road again. My mother’s blood pressure rose visibly (I kid, but she was stressed). The snow fell more heavily outside.

At about 8, we had some leftovers and finished trimming the tree. We began to wonder if we’d go to mass. At around 9:30, we decided not to go to mass, as the streets were covered with at least 3 inches of snow. No plows. This is the first time I’ve missed Christmas mass since I was three. Read from the Koran instead.

At 11 or so, my brother calls to tell us he’s driven off the road again, this time in Eufala, OK. He almost went off the bridge into the river. Almost. But now he’s in the mud, waiting for a tow truck. While he waits, we find a Love’s Travel Stop in Eufala and instruct him to go there and wait it out until morning. Surprisingly, he does. Under a cheap Mexican-style blanket. With wet socks. While he’s there, a Jeepload of other stupid young people stops in on their way to Greenwood (about 5 miles from Ft. Smith).

We go for a walk in the snow around midnight. It’s lovely and quiet. The neighbor who has filled his lawn with those holiday inflatables will wake up to find that they’ve all crumpled under the weight of the snow. I regret that I forgot my camera at the house, but the flash wouldn’t have worked anyway.

We go to bed. At around 8:30 the next morning, Mom gets a call from the brother, who is yet again stuck in a ditch, this time in Dora, about 5 miles from home. We eat breakfast, bundle up (thank goodness I had the presence of mind to bring along my duck boots) and head out. The brother is stuck in the worst possible place, at the bottom of a gully in the middle of the median on the divided highway, and he’s worked himself into a muddy rut. He’s pretty covered, and his socks are wet, but the heater on his Golf still works (did I mention he was driving a Golf with bald tires?), and so I call AAA and sit in his car with him after we try to push him out (unsuccessfully).

While we wait, a man comes along with his own trail-rigged Jeep. He’s avoiding his mother-in-law, and drives down into the ditch to try and pull us out. He digs himself in up to his left front wheel well, and the brother leaves his window down throughout it all. The blanket comes in handy, since his seat is now covered in mud. AAA isn’t sending anyone out until the next day or the day after. We wait at the rest stop until the brother tells us that the help the other guy called almost got themselves stuck, too.

At 4, after the husband is conned into cleaning out the chimney (hey, he was already dirty anyhow), we finally have Christmas, and it lasts off and on until 9 because we are all so exhausted. The fire in the fireplace is nice.

The next day, we head out and I call AAA again. Since I’m the responsible party I sit in the car and wait, and eventually the guy shows up with his big truck and no coat, shivering and being really nice and after about 20 minutes he gets us out, at which point the brother has to explain himself to the nice highway patrol officer. We go have barbecue, and it’s delicious. We go to Wal-Mart and wander around for a while and I buy some jalapenos and some underripe tomatoes, and we go home to cook dinner for the guests who are coming over in an hour.

The guests are fun. The rest of the evening is relaxing and helped by a couple of bottles of wine.

The next day we go see Avatar, and I am floored by how beautiful and amazing and unbelievable it is. We go have some really excellent Salvadorean food, and the brother stays over the night so that he doesn’t have to drive in the dark, the first smart decision he’s made in three days.

The day before we’re set to leave, the brother heads out and we go shopping some more. We go for a walk in an old cemetery near my house, and find a surprising number of hand-carved gravestones, some of which are very old. For lunch, we eat at an Indian restaurant which is really a Persian restaurant but is very good, and we eat some gelato in the cold, and go get some cherry wood from the dinner guests a few nights before.

And then we head home, and on the way we get a speeding ticket,  but only because we have Georgia plates and we’re in West Memphis.

So as another present to myself, I see Avatar three more times, and each time am amazed at how beautiful and wonderful and unbelievable it is.

I stay in on New Year’s Eve, mostly because I’m exhausted but also because I just want to drink champagne and watch Bollywood movies. Kuch Kuch Hota Hai is really good when you have lots of champagne.

Today was a Monday and it kind of sucked and my parents put their elderly cat to sleep, but at least my brother didn’t put his car in a ditch. And we have new dishwashers and coffeemakers at work! It’s like a vacation from my vacation.

I will probably go see Avatar again on Saturday.

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We wish you a Merry Xmas …

My awesome coworker and his equally awesome family made this video for their holiday card. It’s so lovely.

So I had to share it.

(Merry Christmas to you, too, Naugle)

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Christmas present to myself

But not to Bloglandia.

As a gift to myself for the holidays, I will be taking a vacation from the internet. I’ll be back online after Christmas, and perhaps intermittently in the interim (probably only practicing languages on LiveMocha, though), but if you don’t see me blog you’ll know why.

Happy holidays!

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[RANT] Hold. Up.

On the heels of discovering that I am making an average of $20,000 less than my male counterparts (people aged 25-35, who have Masters-level degrees) just because I have two x chromosomes, I then hear about this stupid piece of crap:

Trading away abortion rights for the health care bill.

Comes from this awesome LJ post, plus comic (I heart Lucy Knisley and this one time Jennie met her and omg I was jealous and I’m done now I think).

Okay. #1? no. #2? also no. #3? more and different no.

This country has made great strides in equalizing men and women, as far as rights go. But we still have a long way ahead of us, and will until we all make the same wages regardless of gender (which, by the way, makes no difference to ability or talent or any actual important employment factor) and until we have autonomy over our bodies and are free to live with the consequences of our own decisions. And when the decision to help people pay for the decision to save one human life (instead of condemning two) wins out over the decision to subsidize a drug to help men have more sex (Viagra is still covered, btw). “Oh, I’m sorry, you’re just going to have to deal with your preeclampsia, which will cost more than the abortion and may possibly kill you, but at least your husband can still get cheap pills to help him the next time you want to chance it.”

Also that $20,000 discrepancy is crap.

Also also I am perhaps a little grumpy and affected by the bad weather today. Carry on with your day as usual.

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Ugh.

Today, she is nuts. I have no brain cells left.

So here’s a short overview of my workday:

Meeting.

Still meeting.

Back at my desk! Which is pretty much where I’ve been all afternoon, except for when I got up to eat some fudge. I am so going to have diabetes* by the time I leave for vacation.

* Yes, I am aware that diabetes is not a funny thing. However, I am consuming far more sugar than I really ought to, and although it is not enough to give me diabetes, it is certainly unhealthy. I feel that hyperbole best illustrates this.

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Peshwaz!

As in, that’s apparently the garment I’m attempting to recreate. Thanks, V!

It is also apparently closely related to the anarkali, a garment I quite like. I have my eye on a few on the Utsav Sarees website.

Most importantly, she pointed me towards some info that mentions hidden ties or little buttons to close the front. Modern versions have a higher bustline than the period versions, so you pull them over your head. I suppose if I made mine a little looser this would work, but I’ll have to try. I think hidden ties might actually be a better way to do this.

And then there’s embellishment! But that’s way down the road.

Anybody know of a good churidar pattern you can buy? Nobody seems to sell patterns (probably because you can just get them made to fit in India), only patterned finished churidar or sewing services. I may just have to buy a pair and disassemble them.

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Soon to be garb…

But first, an edit for last post – the colorway is Prometheus Moth (thanks, Sandy!)

The anniversary was lovely, and we both overate. We have been to Fanoos now, though, and it is lovely. I plan on repeating that experience (but with hookas and around the short tables next time).

And there was fabric shopping! Progress on the Mughal garb continues. I have gotten it mostly to where it fits, although now I’m trying to figure out how it should fasten so that I can remove it (it is very fitted and if I stitch the front seam, I will be unable to put it on/take it off). But it is progressing. I am hoping to get it finished by Twelfth Night. Ha. We shall see. At any rate, I have all the fabric I need:

The red is the top, the gold will be striped churidar (I have a picture of this and it will be awesome, but I may have to be creative with the cutting and sewing as they only had 2 yards of fabric left), and the medallions will be a coat. I am really really excited to get this done. I will have to shop and find some white wool for a dupatta/shawl. Gail K was closed yesterday, though, so I’ll have to do that later.

Wheeee. I’ve never been so excited about garb, like, ever.

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Hooray for destash.

Well, that and holiday knitting parties.

Initially, I had planned on being out of town for Jane, Claudia and the CG‘s holiday knitting party. However, due to some awesome happenings in the meantime, it turned out that I could go. So I ran out to get some yarn for the gift exchange and ended up with this for myself (you know, like you do):

Zauberball! Yay!

The yarn that was given was a skein of Malabrigo sock yarn, plus a skein of my own Kool-Aid dyed, and then I threw in some fancy stitch markers I made. The recipient ended up being a guy, but he was very nice about it and I think he was genuinely pleased to get the yarn (the Malabrigo, at least, was a manly color, as the husband helped choose it).

It went much better this year, since nobody could snatch your gift and everybody brought things that were awesome. I got this lovely batt of Miss Babs BFL top roving

(unknown colorway, but it’s lovely so I won’t whine)

and my very own skein of Bugga. Holy cow. So awesome:

(Hockey Mom told me the colorway, and then I forgot.)

It has blue in it!

Yessssss.

Hockey Mom totally made my day. Possibly the entire week. This is also the only way I’ve ever gotten any Wollmeise (not from Hockey Mom, but as a gift).

And so then there was a de-stash, and although I didn’t put anything in, I got some yarn:

Noro Silk Garden, I think.

And the CG gave me some yarn, too:

Hooray for Noro. Add to that the fact that I ate three times too much food, and then went to a party at Jennie‘s and had some wicked egg nog, yesterday was pretty great.

The cats are so not sure about the new yarn. Johnny Cat investigates:

As usual, Lemmy is very surprised:

Today I am taking a vacation day. Which also rocks, but in a different way. Mainly because it’s the 5 year mark for the husband and I and our marriage. He’s the best thing in the whole world.

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Pulao.

I rarely get inspired to cook. That’s not really my medium, and when you’ve got a husband who loves it and is a talented and creative cook, the motivation to do your own cooking is rare.

However, I am completely motivated by how-to videos. I used to watch cooking shows on TV and try to write down the recipes, but that never quite worked out (and I’ve never had a DVR, so occasionally I’d record a show but mostly I didn’t). The internet, as usual, has solved this in a wonderful way.

From a link on a blog, I found this gem of a video:

Amar Lahiri makes pulao.

It is delightful, detailed, and most importantly, pausable. This is key.

I thought it seemed easy enough, and I like pulao, so on Monday I went home, got out my ingredients and fired up the video. I only screwed up once, when I hadn’t soaked my rice early enough on and then had to re-head my butter and spice mixture, but it didn’t seem to matter. I also had no milk and substituted watery yogurt, which seemed to make no difference.

Basically, you take a lot of butter, cook up your spices in it, add your rice (pre-washed and pre-soaked), then throw in some nuts and dried fruit (I used figs in place of the golden raisins, since we generally don’t have raisins at home). You let it all soak up the water, then put it in the oven to bake and finish cooking and voila! Rice that smells like Christmas.

And then I discovered the limitations of my little webcam:

Not so great on the close-up focus, and doesn’t make food look tasty. Well, it is, and we have a few more meals worth of pulao left, and next I’m tackling biryani, thanks to the chef on youtube whose videos I posted earlier on.

Yum.

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