Snap Judgment: "Whiplash"

Hey guys,

Last weekend, Husband and I online-"rented" "Whiplash" (2014).  We were pretty pumped about it given the immensely positive reception it's gotten, and it came to us via some credible recommendations.

Third snap judgment: commence!!

Snap judgment: great acting, but really overrated.

Leading with the good:

• J.K. Simmons: really great!

The role I most remember J.K. Simmons in is the very sweet if a bit clueless dad in "Juno" (2007).  For something of a tonal change, he takes a fun, terrifying, intense turn as Fletcher, a brutally exacting, emotionally abusive teacher in "Whiplash."  He's as mesmerizing to watch as he is frightening.  That's largely because he performs the everloving fuck out of this role, and it's great.  

It's also because, as an audience member, you're experiencing the kind of fear-instilled watchfulness someone experiences when they're in an abusive relationship of any kind.  In that position, you learn fast that if you're not watching the person carefully, walking on eggshells, and carefully sensing every subtle shift in their mood, you could get a chair thrown at you and never see it coming.

So well done, sir.  (I guess?)

• Miles Teller: pretty great, but Jesus christ have you heard of MacGuffins??

I'm not as familiar with Teller's previous work, but it's very convincing that he is fully set on becoming a famous jazz drummer as Andrew.  Andrew pays immense, frankly absurd costs in pursuit of his aim.

I believe you, but whyyyy

The thing is, this character has basically zero back story, and I have a hard time caring if he's successful when I don't know why his goal means so much to him.  In an early scene, Fletcher all but points out this movie centers on a giant MacGuffin when he observes that Andrew doesn't have any musicians in his immediate family.  It's almost as if the scene was put in the movie to make sure the audience notices that the main character's merciless drive for success is, as far as we can tell, rootless.

• Pretty much copying the opening scene from "The Social Network" (2010): but in a less satisfying manner!

Additionally making it difficult for me to care about Andrew: he's kind of a jackass.  For example: he breaks up with his sweet, probably-too-good-for-him girlfriend in a super shitty, cocky, egotistical manner, telling her that she's basically standing in the way of greatness by dating him.  Even though as far as we can tell she just wants to hang out with him sometimes.

Okay.

1) OH MY GOD dude get over yourself.

2) Run, girl.  RUN.

So it's not that I'm shedding any tears over the end of that relationship other than tears of relief for that poor girl.  But the thing is, the scene feels so ripped off from another movie about a socially callous narcissist...

Seem familiar?

...and that scene happens to end much more satisfyingly:

So there's that.

• Reiterating for at least the fifth time in recent memory the now-tropey character study of the soulless male psychopath: meh!

I might have enjoyed "Whiplash" more if it wasn't tiresomely reminiscent of several other recent films, most of which have admittedly received significant acclaim.  

Sidenote: I'm starting to wonder about the psyche of the average film critic if they find narratives about characters like these so appealing.

Anyway, although some films using this trope are definitely more skillful and interesting than others,

oh

God

enough

I blame you, "Drive."  But I would.

already.

• Can I please just have a plot that makes sense: apparently not! (Spoilers ahoy!)

There are several important moments in "Whiplash" that just ring false.  Andrew has a meal with his family? random family and friends? that is so randomly hostile as to be absurd.

Later, Andrew gets in a car accident--for what's one of the truest shocks in the movie, to be fair--and STILL drags himself onstage and attempts to perform in a major competition, only to tackle Fletcher after he tries to end the performance because Andrew is so freaking bloodily concussed and possibly bleeding internally that he can't play.

Nope.

Finally, after Andrew gets Fletcher fired through dubious legal action, he runs into Fletcher by chance, enabling Fletcher to set a massive trap for Andrew by getting him to perform at Carnegie Hall with Fletcher's new jazz ensemble and intentionally not telling Andrew what the first song of the performance is, so Andrew heroically botches the performance of that song.

Nope.  Nope nope nope.

Fucking please.  Given everything we've seen of Fletcher, there is no goddamned way EVER that perfectionistic, bloodthirsty, megalomaniac of a dude would throw a performance he was conducting at CARNEGIE FREAKING HALL just to settle the score with some ex-student.  No.  Just no.  Rewrite that bullshit part of the script and try again, because no.

And then... they're cool at the end?  They have a little Sam and Frodo moment?  Are we serious.  Are we actually serious?

I need to stop because I just can't with this nonsense.

Additionally, a public service announcement: any directors in the universe, please take note that constant unmitigated tension does NOT constitute a coherent, intelligible emotional story arc.  98 minutes of undifferentiated anxiety does not make for a pleasant movie-watching experience (especially when you didn't think you were signing up for a horror movie), and it certainly doesn't make us feel like we were just a part of something that told a story about people who have changed.  And last time I checked, that's kind of a prerequisite of any real story, isn't it?  That someone, ANYONE, changes, at least a little?

Ugh.

With all my very apparent frustration, I still think it's a movie worth watching if for nothing other than the performances.

So, final movie score: 3

{Heart}

The Brutal Time Warp of "Selma"

Good evening,

In second grade, I became obsessed with Martin Luther King, Jr.  I learned about him in Mrs. Latin's class and became completely transfixed.  I was fixated to the point that I would routinely guess him (incorrectly) as the answer to our regular classroom game of 20 Questions.  When it was my turn to choose a person for my classmates to guess, some discerning 8-year-old colleague of mine guessed Martin Luther King with the first question and thereby set the record for shortest game of 20 Questions in the 2L classroom that year.

My guileless game-playing notwithstanding, awe is really the best word for the emotion I felt toward this titanic figure.  I was awed that he could enact positive societal change through peaceful means.  I was awed by a man who had the courage to put himself in harm's way in the service of his commitment to what was right.  I was awed by how wholly he dedicated his life to creating a brighter, better, more just future.

So of course, I saw "Selma" (2014).

I knew at the outset that it would obviously be an intensely emotional viewing experience.

What I didn't know was how painful it would be to experience precisely how little has changed in the fifty years since the events depicted in this movie.

To focus briefly on the positive, the cast of "Selma" is absolutely wonderful.  David Oyelowo is steadfastly composed, bearing the burden of generations of suffering with sturdiness and grace as Dr. King.  Carmen Ejogo is lovely and formidable as Coretta Scott King.  Oprah Winfrey is magnetic and gut-wrenching as Annie Lee Cooper.  Tessa Thompson is stoically resolute and radical as Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) co-founder Diane Nash, one of the few women on the front lines of the movement.

And now, the rest.

One of the most potent emotions I experienced while watching "Selma" was unbearable tension.  As a viewer, you endure only minutes of acts of protest that often lasted hours, yet those minutes are agony laced with immense dread.

You know the activists represented in these scenes had no recourse to gain their rights other than to engage in acts of civil disobedience, and you simultaneously know that terrible things happened to them precisely because of that civil disobedience.  Yet you have to wait with the knowledge that those things will, inevitably, unfold.

"Selma" captures those unfoldings with a terrible, time-slowing beauty, holding African American suffering firmly in the viewer's gaze as a commandment: We must not look away from faces of people seeking justice, especially in these moments when it is viciously withheld from them with violence and oppression.

Especially when it is withheld in our names.

Another potent emotion evoked by "Selma" is pain.  It is painful watching people struggle for rights to which they are unquestionably entitled and watching them be literally beaten down for demanding them.  It is painful seeing how despicably and systematically our country has failed to uphold the values it is meant to embody.

But watching "Selma" as a white person brings with it a special kind of pain.  It's painful because white people were and are unequivocally responsible for this oppression, as if sharing rights with African American fellow citizens somehow makes their rights mean less.  It's painful because you witness white civilians--not purported officers of the law or the state, just average people--take time away from their daily lives to head over to a bridge with bats and tire irons so they can mercilessly beat the shit out of peaceful protesters.  It's painful knowing that was done in my name, because those white people perceived some kind of kinship in our whiteness that transcended their kinship with all human beings.

The guilt that knowledge brings is sickening.  The shame is impossible to bear.  But it's critical to be brought face to face with it.  It's imperative that we weigh this one tiny piece of the price of white privilege, in these moments of suffering and courage while facing acts of hatred.

In addition to confronting us with the realities of African American suffering and the brutality of white supremacy, "Selma" succinctly sums up how witheringly high the stakes were before the Voting Rights Act of 1965 was passed.  African Americans who attempted to register to vote in the South, like Annie Lee Cooper, often lost their jobs.  They were required to pay poll taxes and submit to examinations often on incredibly obscure factoids about federal and local governments.  They had to find a registered voter to endorse them with the full goddamned knowledge that no one in their community was eligible to do so.  Because they were not registered to vote, they were barred from participating as jurors, so the white people who murdered their loved ones or neighbors would walk free from fear of conviction because they would be tried in front of a jury of only their white peers.  

The desperate fight for voting rights was about so much more than being able to choose one's elected officials--as if being denied a right so fundamental to democracy wasn't enough of an explanation--it was a fight for the right to exist.

After all of that inter-generational white guilt, shame, and pain, you'd think I'd be heartened by the apparent sea change that occurs when white activists start joining Dr. King's movement in Alabama.  But after counting the price already paid in blood, broken bones, and lives by the time those white activists show up and after seeing how ruthlessly white officers and civilians exacted that price, it's sickening and infuriating watching the police resistance to the protest evaporate as the movement makes its second attempt at crossing that bridge.

The message that sends is that we as a nation refuse to hear African American voices unless white voices lend them credence.  We refuse to listen to them simply on their merit as fellow Americans.  We will only allow them to walk safely, to protest peacefully, to demand their rights, to speak and be heard if they are temporarily bestowed with the mantle of white privilege.  Only then will we listen.

Of course many things have improved since the era depicted in "Selma," but so many things feel the same: police brutality toward peaceful protesters, police use of unnecessary lethal force toward African Americans with reminder upon reminder that justice will never come, and systematically racist implementations of the legal system still prevail.  Unbelievably, Dr. King's work in winning voting rights was undone fewer than fifty years after he finally succeeded, as if we're suddenly living in a different America than the very real very unjust one confronting us day after day.  

We are most affirmatively not living in the utopian future for which Dr. King was fighting.  

Especially with the problematic complexity of the role white people have taken in advocating for equal rights, it might feel like there's nothing to be done.  It might feel like there's no hope.

But of course that's not true.  It doesn't mean white people should stay home, but it means we must reflect on these dynamics of power and privilege and the role we play, even unintentionally, in perpetuating them.  We must each call on ourselves to listen better to perspectives other than our own, and for insisting on more equitable distribution of privilege in our society.

It is precisely because we still have so much to do that we must never give up.  We must all be better at giving our time and our hearts and our ears and our money and our words to the tireless pursuit of justice, because although the arc of the moral universe is long, that is ultimately where it bends.

{Heart}

TYSG: Collisions of Music and Humor

Hi darlings,

I have sincere intentions of devoting more time to movie-dedicated posts this year, especially in observing that, together with posts about how challenging internship was, last year TYSG posts largely dominated the content of this blog.  That of course is largely a reflection of the fact that last year was, in fact, genuinely in need of a Terrible Year Survival Guide.

Even so, I love writing about movies and want to continue to do so with regularity, even if I sometimes hesitate because it takes more time than these posts do.  Although the TYSGs speak to the Psycho (i.e., graduate school) half of PsychoCinematic, obviously the Cinematic half needs just as much air time.

That being said!  I've spoken to the value of music as a way to get through difficult times, and even how one's relationship with music might shift depending on precisely how difficult times get.  I've also spoken to the importance of humor as a remedy for pain.  But what happens when their powers are combined?

AMAZING things!

Two examples:

1) Sharks!

Bear with me.

I listened to this PRI story about a great white shark named Lydia who has been GPS tracked over 27,000 miles of travel through the oceans, and whose progress fans can follow on Twitter.  It's a great little story, but the song at the ends takes it to another level.

The song is "Lukey" by the Canadian band Great Big Sea, in collaboration with the Irish band the Chieftains.  It's such a jubilant, joyful song that I honestly think it's impossible to listen to it without smiling, even if you can't understand a word they're singing.

But!  It gets even better when you imagine a 2,000 pound lady shark swimming around off the coast of Newfoundland, pumping her fins to the beat of the music like:

...Minus that slightly rude bit, of course.

Anyway, here's the video:

2) Dancing robots!

I like Spoon a lot, but their songs might not seem outright cheerful at first listen.  They have more of a brooding, sexy beat thing going that reminds me a little bit of the Beta Band--a little heady, a little chill, and really great to listen to.

But!  Then you watch this adorable video of a squishy little dancing robot and his blank-faced scientist compatriot, and suddenly this song is an utter, giggle-inducing delight:

So what I'm highlighting with these two examples is that the associations and narratives you make for yourself in your mind, especially when paired with music (or a smell, or an image, or a place, or...), can offer such potent little jolts of joy throughout your day if you just stay in contact with them.  For my purposes, rest assured that both of these songs are on the happy playlist I've dutifully cultivated for years now, as well as the other musical TYSG entries over the years.  I'm pleasantly surprised by how powerful the lift in my mood is when either of these songs comes through my headphones, but that's because of the delightful little movies they cue up in my brain.

Enjoy!

{Heart}

2014 Movie Round-Up!!

Woooooooooooooooooooo!!!

Yes!!  It is that magical time of year during which I get to review the glorious array of films I watched during the previous year, in triumphant vanquishment of my 52-movies-a-year resolution.  I am just a tiny bit extra eager to celebrate this accomplishment because, as you may remember, is basically the only resolution I fully adhered to in the previous year.

Another reason to celebrate the writing of this particular post:

This is my fifth annual movie-round up!  FIFTH!!  There have been four other ones before this one!!

Guys I have written so many of these!!

Enthusiasm is certainly running high on this side of the blog.

Without further ado of any kind!

The PsychoCinematic Year in Movies

(2014 Edition)

1. Apollo 18 (2)

2. Room 237 (1)

3. The Wolf of Wall Street (5)

4. Cropsey (2)

5. American Hustle (3)

6. 30 for 30: The Price of Gold (3)

7. Ender's Game (4)

8. The Grand Budapest Hotel (4.5)

9. Captain America: The Winter Soldier (4)

10. The Imposter (4)

11. Bronies: The Extremely Unexpected Adult Fans of My Little Pony (3)

12. The Awakening (3.5)

13. The People vs. Larry Flynt (3)

14. The Queen of Versailles (3)

15. The Seven Year Itch (4)

16. Unhung Hero (3)

17. X-Men: Days of Future Past (3)

18. Zero Dark Thirty (4)

19. Behind the Candelabra (4.5)

20. 22 Jump Street (4)

21. The Conversation (4)

22. Badlands (4)

23. The Woodmans (4)

24. Snowpiercer (4)

25. Guardians of the Galaxy (4)

26. Spartacus (5)

27. Europa Report (4)

28. A Most Wanted Man (4)

29. Calvary (5)

30. Detropia (4)

31. 12 O'Clock Boys (5)

32. The Grey (3)

33. Boyhood (4.5)

34. One Nation Under God (4)

35. Blood Into Wine (2)

36. A Late Quartet (5)

38. Gosford Park (4)

39. Salinger (3)

40. Sons of Perdition (4)

41. The Drop (5)

42. Stuck (3)

43. (A)Sexual (2)

44. Best Worst Movie (3)

45. The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby (1)

46. Muppets Most Wanted (3)

47. Bad Words (4)

48. The Amazing Spider-Man 2 (3)

49. The Fugitive (4)

50. Divergent (2)

51. The Edge of Tomorrow (4)

52. The Lego Movie (5)

53. House on Haunted Hill (2)

54. Interstellar (4.5)

55. Shivers (1981) (3)

56. The Hunger Games: The Mockingjay, Part 1 (4)

57. Carrie (2013) (2)

58. The Galapagos Affair: Satan Came to Eden (2)

59. Foxcatcher (4)

60. The One I Love (4)

61. The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies (2)

I would personally like to thank the month of September for being generally exceedingly incredible this year, both because some pretty great stuff happened during that month but also because, as a month during which I basically had nothing to do (other than finalize wedding plans and like get actually get married), I was able to watch SEVENTEEN movies.  As you can see, without September, I would not have been able to exceed this year's 52 movies goal.

September: officially a good month.

Okay!  Down to business.  First thing's first: this year's most terrible movies!

For seriously? Alien rock-spiders?:

Apollo 18 (2011)

For being the first in this year's multi-entry series of meh documentaries, or

for serving as a reminder that being *about* a great movie doesn't make a movie great:

Room 237 (2012)

For acting as if you're making "The Thin Blue Line" (1988) when you're totally not:

Cropsey (2009)

For being proof that just because the guy from a band I like is in it, that doesn't mean

he knows how to make a competent documentary:

Blood Into Wine (2010)

For having a perfectly interesting topic with very bleh execution:

(A)Sexual (2011)

For having a pretty crappy and flat script and having literally zero to do with the Beatles:

The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby (2014)

For basically being "Hunger Games" without anywhere near as compelling a heroine:

Divergent (2014)

For abundant sexism and and annoying portrayal of a mental health practitioner:

House on Haunted Hill (1959)

For seriously fuck everyone responsible for every unnecessary movie remake:

Carrie (2013)

For passably interesting + way too long still = meh:

The Galapagos Affair: Satan Came to Eden (2013)

Finally, and based on last year predictably:

For being yet another piece of overwhelming evidence that Peter Jackson should not be allowed to make movies:

The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies (2014)

So now I get to choose my overall least favorite film from the past year.  Like last year, this choice is a bit challenging due to the crowded field and many of the entries annoying me in slightly different but comparable ways.

Okay, I'm decided.  I'm going to take a stand:

It was boring.  Making this series into a trilogy was a blatant money grab at the immense expense of the plot, which was stretched way too thin and therefore had crap added to it unnecessarily.  The characters were flat, their motives were stupid, and the stakes were not compelling.  There were like TEN MINUTES OF DRAGON and that's it.  IT WAS TOO GODDAMNED LONG.  

Basically, I'm just so over Peter Jackson.  I'm over his inability to hold a serious emotion for more than 90 seconds.  I'm over his failure to recognize that a dramatic score and a bunch of bloated action sequences does not equal an intelligible or enjoyable story arc.  I'm over what he's done to a series of books I loved deeply as a child.

UGH.  MAKE HIM STOP.

And now on to the even more fun stuff!

The best movies I saw in 2014 were:

The Wolf of Wall Street (2013)

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)

Behind the Candelabra (2013)

Spartacus (1960)

Calvary (2014)

12 O'Clock Boys (2013)

Boyhood (2014)

A Late Quartet (2012)

The Drop (2014)

The Lego Movie (2014)

Interstellar (2014)

Oh God.  This is a tough one.

Well, we all know I thought "Wolf of Wall Street" was fucking spectacular.  It was brash and bold and funny but substantial and dark, excellently shot, and well-paced and making you want to see more even though it's over three hours long.  That's pretty amazing.

"Behind the Candelabra" might seem like a bizarre choice, but the HBO movie featured incredible, touching, compelling performances by both Michael Douglas and Matt Damon.  It beautifully honored and elevated its subject when it would have been very easy to make a trashy, cheap movie out of this story.

"Calvary" was directed by John Michael McDonagh, the older brother of possibly my favorite playwright, Martin McDonagh.  Creating stories with inky black dark humor mixed with gut-churning, seething human anguish and imperfect, heartbreaking, and beautiful human decency clearly runs in this genius family.  This film feels close and confining like a tense, tightly-written play but without the stiff staginess that cripples other stage-to-screen translations.  I could watch Brendan Gleeson butter bread and be transfixed.

Finally, "The Lego Movie" is one of the most delightful, fresh, packed-with-smart-humor-and-genuine-sweetness films I've seen in years, easily rivaling the best of Pixar.  Husband and I watched in twice within 24 hours and loved every minute of it.  Also it features Charlie Day, my favorite!!

But finally, I have to go with a quieter movie that might have flown under most people's radars.  It's a film that features a city I deeply, desperately love.  Its footage is so gorgeously, unexpectedly moving it brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it.  It's a powerful reminder that human beings have the capacity to create and thrive and self-empower in ways that we may not readily recognize or understand, but which are nevertheless vibrant examples of the gorgeous human spirit.

My favorite movie in 2014 is "12 O'Clock Boys."

It's on Netflix view instant--go see it!!**

{Heart}

** = ETA: I'm wrong about "12 O'Clock Boys" being available via Netflix view instant.  You can rent the movie through the DVD service on Netflix,  but it's unfortunately not streamable through that carrier.  Instead, you can go to the movie's website to rent and stream the movie or buy it outright.

You can also watch the trailer!

Closing 2014: Resolutions Edition

Happy New Year cherished readers, and Happy Martin Luther King, Jr Day!!

In keeping with tradition and before we are too far into the new year for this to not feel silly, I would like to revisit last year's new year's resolutions and put forward my resolutions for 2015.

...I am now realizing that I set out like way, wayyyy too many things for myself last year, starting with two overarching goals:

• Cultivate a loving and accepting stance toward all living things.
• Develop a more positive-focused outlook.

Hilarious.

I'm feeling surprisingly annoyed with myself for setting out these goals for myself in the midst of the most punishing year of my life to date.  They seem so fundamentally unkind in their unrealistic-ness.

They came, of course, from a good place--a place that recognizes that we are often the creators of our own suffering, and that through mastering our thoughts and minds, we can create content and peaceful lives under most circumstances.

I also have some lingering belief that all humans are worthy of care and kindness, although clinging to that belief has honestly gotten harder than I like to admit.  That's partly because this Chipotle bag rings alarmingly true:

It's hard for me to accept that the proportion isn't much higher than that without feeling lonely and more than a bit misanthropic.  (Also do I really need to reflect on this while I'm eating my tacos, Chipotle??  You're ruining my guacamole buzz.)

I think that, although these goals hold true, their timeframe was all wrong.  They are lifetime goals.  They were not realistic for a year during which what I really needed to focus on was emotionally surviving.  I was doing my best to aim higher than that, but sometimes it might just be too much to ask for more.

My remaining, overly numerous resolutions from last year were:

1. Start a daily journal of good things that happen.

This was in the spirit of a project I learned about after making this resolution, 100 Happy Days.  It's a very nice idea and seems like, in principle, it should work.

But my attempt was a pretty abysmal failure.  I persisted basically daily until early March, when I just couldn't do it anymore.  On March 9th, I wrote, "I lost a few days there where I just couldn't push myself to do this task, even though it's good for me.  I gave myself permission to take a break from it out of kindness to myself."  My writing became spotty to nonexistent after that.

Sometimes, when life feels really difficult or painful, it feels impossibly tone-deaf and invalidating to take time to focus on the positive.  When stuff hurts too much, it just doesn't feel kind to ask yourself, "But what feels good?"

Happily I guess, a few months later I took a stab at it again, or maybe just decided to say goodbye to this exercise.  In July, I wrote, "Depression ends, and life is always waiting to remind you that it's beautiful, kind, and welcoming when you come back to it."

So there's that.

2. When someone asks how I'm doing, I will find a positive thing to share with them.*

"I'm still breathing"??  Fuck you, past self.

3. Start daily mindfulness and lovingkindness practices.

I was very fortunate to get to take a mindfulness course for several weeks as a part of my new job, and I'll be continuing my mindfulness-focused research in my current position.  

That being said, I definitely did not meaningfully incorporate either of these practices into my daily life--I just failed to launch a meaningful system for reminding myself.  I'm hesitant to vary from my Zen-y meditation practice, but I do still think that integrating lovingkindness practices into my regular practice would be good for me.

4. Leave/write myself little reminders that every living thing is doing the best they can in that moment and I must do my best to be accepting and patient even if it drives me FUCKING INSANE.

I really should have done this.  Driving is a surprisingly potent misanthropy enhancer for me.  Ugh.

5. Deepen meditative practices by reading Buddhist things and at least trying one or two sangha meetings to see if they're weird or possibly okay/good.

I need to do some self-examination about why I keep avoiding going to a sangha.  I think I'm anxious that I'll feel like way too much of a noob?  Sitting for a really long time might be hard around a bunch of other people?  Maybe I'm hesitant to commit to a place when I'm not sure whether Husband and I will be living in this area for much longer?  These are silly and poor explanations, but they're the closest I've got at the moment.

I did totally read the entirety of my Daily Dalai Lama book, though!

6. Get my finances in order.

Next.

7. Get better at doing things that make me happy most days.

This only became even remotely possible after internship ended.  I will say that I've improved dramatically since then, even with the advent of new job.  So yay?

8. Watch ALL THE MOVIES.

Finally some unqualified success!  

Jesus Christ what a jackass I was to myself 12 months ago.  My expectations were way too high.  Gah!

Like seriously.  I could do this at myself all day at this point.

Okay, punishment by eyeball-rolling-at-self aside, I do have some hopefully much more compassionate and attainable goals in mind for the coming year.

They are!

1. More Buddhist readings.  More!

On it.

And since this is so freaking dense and arcane, I have some other books in reserve in case I start hating this one.  But hopefully I won't.

And also maybe I'll get over my sangha avoidance at some point or whatever.

2. Reduce mindless and aimless screen time.

I've grown increasingly resentful of the time I let bullshit screen-y stuff suck out of my days (pardon me while I glare angrily in Facebook's direction).  I've started trying to replace that time by a) doing stuff in the real world, and b) keeping long-form articles up in my internet browser (Like this one! Amazing!!) so when for whatever reason I'm dicking around on my computer or phone, I actually feel like I'm putting substance in my brain instead of some toxic mix of feelings of inadequacy and schadenfreude.

Movies are not covered under this resolution, obvi.

3. Let more objects go and enjoy what we keep.

Our apartment is full of things--too many things.  We don't need or use many of the things.  I've gotten in more and more of a habit of simply summarily ejecting things we don't need via recycling, trash, or leaving things on the sidewalk for scavengers (often the most surprisingly efficient option!), and I have yet to regret it.  The extra space and greater sense of feng shui we get in our home as a result is a huge reinforcer.

We also have immensely generous family and friends who bestowed all sorts of exciting new things on us when Husband and I got married.  We can make like 12 different kinds of pasta now!  We can juice things, fry things, blend things, convect things, cut things, bake things, carry things places, serve things in pretty bowls... Not to mention the bounty we already have as first-world dwellers in the form of books, movies, clothes, etc. that we underutilize or fail to enjoy at all.

4. Facilitated by our beautiful new food apparatuses, I want to cook more and learn to cook new stuff.

I'm thinking of trying out Blue Apron or Plated or something similar, because mangling my way through stuff I haven't done before WITHOUT also having to choose wtf to make or go shopping will be much more realistic when cooking on weekdays.  The services seem pretty cost effective and friends who have tried them are generally excited about them.  Also this seems like a great strategy for eating more vegetables, which is something I am occasionally bad at.  

Because why vegetables when you can cheese?

5. More learning on the agenda: Study for and kick the shit out of the licensing exam, and otherwise learn voraciously.

This year's terrifying-yet-necessary resolution!  The last last last last last last LAST hurdle I have to complete to finally be a real live adult professional human is take my licensing exam.  This has to be taken within a year of starting my current position, and I'm currently aiming for May to just have it over with.  

The test is super annoying because it requires knowledge of an obscenely overly comprehensive amount of psychological stuff (research methods? brain structures? industrial/organizational?  NO ONE LEARNS I/O!!!).  But it's also just a test.  It'll be really good to have it done, plus I have a very reliable study buddy to keep me on track.

Also!  Although the lazy reptile part of me hates it, one of the major advantages of my current job is that I'm having to learn about a variety of things I have not had to do before.  The lazy reptile in me sometimes despairs and panics because HAVE I SERIOUSLY LEARNED *NOTHING* IN FIVE YEARS OH GODDDDDD.  But the more rational mamalian part of my brain recognizes that human mental health is immensely complex and can go askew in a variety of very different ways, and so what's really important is being flexible and resourceful in response to each new, unique human I encounter in my work.

But still, this guy must be stopped.

I KNOW NOTHINGGGGGGG

To counteract mean defeatist doubter reptile mode, I have actively acquired a jillion (scientific term) new treatment manuals and am actually expecting myself to read them so I can know more stuff and get the reptile to shut up.

6. Remind myself to love all living things each day.

Why am I doing this to myself?  Because I have to keep trying.  And at least at the moment, I have nowhere near any of the excuses to not try that I did a year ago.  My life is much easier and happier than it's been in a long time, and because this is a life-long goal, I have to keep chipping away at it.  

The aforementioned lovingkindness stuff should help.

And finally!

7. Watch 52 movies!

Always!  Always more movies!

I'm excited to share 2014's year-in-movies-in-review, hopefully shortly!

Until then!

{Heart}