Calypso feathers

Some of you may remember from an earlier entry that our family has a cockatiel named Squeaker. We also had a lovebird named Calypso. Or perhaps I should say my mother had a lovebird, who was kind enough to share himself with me. He was such a mama's boy! Well, Calypso died in February at the ripe old age of 12. (I understand the 8 - 10 is good for a lovebird.)

You've seen some of Squeaker's antics, so let me tell you a bit about Calypso. First, he was green. His favorite pastimes included baths, chewing things, and heckling Squeaker. He was just a little bird, but apparently no one told him that. He was unafraid of pretty much anything, had a never-ending supply of energy, and a peep that could be heard for miles around. He didn't talk -- the only human sound he imitated was a kissy noise, which was completely endearing. We always said that if he were to pick up something else it would probably be a belch or a swear word. He was just that perverse, yet the ultimate charmer.

We buried Calypso on Easter among the spring flowers, sent off with these two poems I wrote --

Calypso feathers
Cannot contain his ego
Unaware of height
A tiny frame taking flight
Peeps mightily in God's ear

Proclaiming green-ness,
Pointy beaked upside down-ness.
For the love of noise,
Sheer joy of being alive --
I peep because I'm happy!

And I think that's pretty much Calypso in a nutshell. I don't want to get too sentimental, but if I ever needed a lesson in joie de vivre, I need look no further than the tiny green person who would drink water from my fingers and let me scratch his head.

My tenth annual Academy Awards

Well, it may be a bit delayed, but here's my Oscar entry --

I can tell you the exact date my love of film began -- December 19, 1997. The night I first saw Titanic. Now, I think it would sound cooler to say my interest in movies had been sparked by something like Pulp Fiction or Casablanca or El Mariachi, but the truth is it was in fact the highest grossing film of all time that caught my attention. Ah, well. So much for my indie cred.

So, here's the story from the beginning -- My best friends and I went to see Titanic on opening night and stumbled out of the theater three and a half hours later arm in arm crying our eyes out. I think we scared the people waiting to go in for the next showing. Over the next few months, everyone went back to see it again and again. I began to feel a bit like Charlie Bucket only opening two Wonka bars, since I only saw it two or three times -- I knew girls who saw it over ten times! (no wonder it made over a billion dollars) But I watched all the behind-the-scenes specials and interviews I could find. These opened up a whole new world to me. I had seen movies before, but I never really thought much about how they were made. This was back in the days before DVDs (gasp!) with special features. Suddenly I was interested not only in Leo and Kate, but also in James Cameron's other projects. And knowing that the hand seen drawing Rose in the movie is in fact Cameron's and other such fascinating tidbits.

My love of Titanic naturally led me to the 1998 Oscars. Billy Crystal hosted and I still remember parts of his opening songs about the Best Picture nominees ("It's Gilligan, the Skipper too, the propeller guy and the ice!"). I learned something important that first year -- you need to have someone to root for. Of course in 1998 it was Titanic all the way for me and I felt personally slighted by any losses. Then the following year, the Academy really sealed the deal and made me a viewer for life by making my pick, the underdog Shakespeare in Love, Best Picture over favorite Saving Private Ryan. I realize I may get hate mail for saying this, but that win made me so happy, I literally got up and jumped up and down during the acceptance speech.

So, in subsequent years I have generally tried my best to cram for the Oscars by watching as many nominated films as possible. This has been somewhat hampered the past three years since I've had to rely on DVDs alone, and unfortunately am not eligible for Academy screeners. So, my big Oscar pick for 2008 was Once, which was only nominated for Best Original Song. It won (yay!) so I consider the show a success, especially since Jon Stewart brought star Marketa Irglova back out on stage to give her part of the acceptance speech after she and Glen Hansard were played off. I also learned, from the helpful montage, that I have seen 29 of the 80 Best Picture winners including every one from Titanic through The Departed. I guess I just need to get caught up on those older films!

Comments on comments

I've gotten a few questions recently from people who had difficulty leaving comments on my blog entries. So, I changed the settings and would like to invite everyone to give it another shot, even if you had trouble posting in the past. If it still doesn't work, let me know (my email is kay_sarahh@yahoo.com) and I'll find someone who understands all this technological nonsense to help me fix whatever's going on.

Also, just want to leave a quick message to let everyone know, I may be posting less frequently for a while. I'm adjusting some headache meds and the new dosage seems to be turning my brain into oatmeal. So while I do plan on talking Oscar (even tho apparently only twelve other people watched, according to the ratings) it'll have to wait until I can form more coherent sentences. In the meantime, I'll leave you with this recommendation -- watch Once! It makes me so happy.

". . . whose ape-descended life forms are so amazingly primitave that they still think digital watches are a pretty neat idea"

After my first top ten list, Donna made the suggestion that I make a list of my favorite top ten books published before 1975. Well, being generally perverse and relishing a challenge, I decided to first attempt a list of books from after 1975. I thought it might be hard to even think of ten things I've read that were that contemporary, let alone that I could really call "favorites." Mostly I read stuff from before 1900. Also, a series definitely only qualifies as one entry, so I can't just fill the list with Harry Potter. Well, I've been working on this list for a while now and come up with what I think are some interesting and diverse books (in no particular order) --

1. The Bean Trees by Barbara Kingsolver
2. The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver
3. Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling
4. Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk
5. A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving
6. Freakonomics by Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner
7. The Friendly Shakespeare by Norrie Epstein
8. The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley
9. The Harper Hall trilogy by Anne McCaffrey
10. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series by Douglas Adams

Here are a few comments on my choices --

1 & 2. Yes, both by the same author, but extremely different books and both exceptionally good. I may have Bean Trees memorized by now.
3. Pick a favorite? Maybe Prisoner of Azkaban or Half-Blood Prince.
7. If nothing else, all high school students should receive the "No-Holds Bard: A Glossary of Sexual Slang." Trust me, they'd enjoy those plays a lot more.
9. Dragonsong and Dragonsinger were staples for me growing up and still favorites today.
10. Like "Futurama"? Read this book! The blog entry title is a quote from book one. Other highlights -- "Ford, you're turning into a penguin. Stop it." and "Who - the man with the five heads and the elderberry bush full of kippers?"

"I got ashes on my forehead"

Well, I had ashes on my forehead on Wednesday, but I suppose in some sense I still do. The big news here of course is that for the first time in three years, I received those ashes at church. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, for the first (and second) time I have left the house and rejoined society. Allow me to explain . . .

On Saturday, Feb. 2, I went to the coffeehouse held after our church's Saturday night service. This marked the first time I had gone anywhere other than a hospital or doctor's office since I had surgery in January of 2005. I stayed a little less than an hour and heard a few different people sing. In fact when I walked in, Shoof was playing, "I can see clearly now the rain is gone . . ." which seems eerily appropriate. Anyway I got to see a lot of people I haven't seen in forever. Kinda weird actually, to be back out in the world, but good weird.

Since Saturday's excursion went well, I decided to attend the Ash Wednesday service at Hope as well. This was a bit more taxing, but I'm glad I went. Lent is my favorite season of the church year anyway, and it felt really good to be back in a proper sanctuary, singing hymns, and being with all the other church folks. I don't think I realized how much I had missed it until I got back to it.

This finally brings me to what was intended to be the point all along -- Lent. I mentioned already that it was my favorite season, and I think that's because it's very introspective. I know a lot of people give something up for Lent, but I never really have. I guess I just never felt that forgoing chocolate would bring me closer to God. Well, this year I would like to take a Lenten journey, although it's not exactly giving something up. I would like to find the quiet. I'm not sure where it's gone. My TiVo and my iPod seem to fill in all the gaps nowadays and without the silence, I think I'm forgetting how to listen. So, for the next forty days, I'm going to spend less time with tv and music running for background noise as I usually do. I'm afraid all this multi-tasking may be killing my creativity. I hope to spend some time communing with my new blank book, and maybe even hearing God . . . in the quiet.

"And I will follow out of love
'cause there is nothing I can earn
I got ashes on my forehead
and I'm trying hard to learn"
~Jonathan Rundman, "Ashes"

Someone else's funny story

Well. . . it's too late to start writing my own blog entry tonight, but you should all check this out -- made me laugh! More from me personally soon.

"I reject your reality and substitute my own"

The writer's strike drags on. The good news is, contrary to popular belief, not all reality tv is bad. So here's a list (in more or less descending order) of my top ten favorite reality shows --

1. Project Runway
2. So You Think You Can Dance
3. Top Chef
4. MythBusters
5. Amazing Race
6. Survivorman
7. Dirty Jobs
8. 30 Days
9. America's Next Top Model
10. Survivor

Now, after my usual fashion, a little explanation. Some of these shows actually count as educational while some are more in the guilty pleasures category. Here are a few specific comments --

1. I've watched religiously since day one. I want Jay McCarroll's Chrysler building dress and I want it now!
2. More people watch American Idol and Dancing with the Stars, but this show is so much better! Just watch any routine choreographed by Mia Michaels.
4. "I reject your reality . . ." is a quote from Adam Savage, MythBuster. Nobody has more fun at work than these guys.
6. I believe Les Stroud is mildly insane, but in a very cool, laid back way.
7. Why watch a show about cleaning septic tanks, exterminating roaches, and gutting fish? Mike Rowe, that's why. (and did you know he's from Baltimore?)
10. Well, I quit watching after season two, but I'm afraid I've gotten sucked back in. . .

Goodbye too soon, Heath Ledger

As I'm sure most of you have already heard, actor Heath Ledger died on Tuesday. He was 28 years old. I have been a big fan of his for many years and am sorry to think there will be no more movies from him after The Dark Knight. But most of all, I would like to send my love and prayers to his daughter, Matilda. I could write an entry (as I'm sure many of my peers will) about how sad and confused I am to lose someone who is really a contemporary of mine. Instead, I'd rather thank Heath Ledger for being a part of a major cultural awakening in my own life.

Back in 1999, I saw Heath Ledger for the first time in a movie called 10 Things I Hate About You, which is a modern retelling of Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew. I love this movie. I've seen it more times than I care to count -- it's a great one to watch if I'm ever having a bad day. My sister and I quote lines from it all the time like, "I know you can be overwhelmed, and you can be underwhelmed, but can you ever just be whelmed? [reply:] I think you can in Europe." Anyway, after seeing 10 Things in the theater, I went home and read Taming of the Shrew before going back to see the movie again. It was really that film in combination with Shakespeare in Love, which came out in 1998, that opened my eyes to the joys of Shakespeare. I've been reading the plays, seeing the movies, and best of all seeing live productions whenever possible ever since. So, Heath Ledger, wherever you are, thank you for introducing me to the bard. I've never been the same since.

"There's a divinity that shapes our ends"
~Hamlet, V.2.10

Watch the birdie

My sister, Joanna, and I recorded our cockatiel, Squeaker, doing one of his favorite things -- talking to a Kleenex. Don't ask me why he does this, but it's seriously cute. You can check it out here, if you're interested.

Tanka poetry

I may not be making blog entries as frequently as I'd like to, but I have been writing. Poetry mostly. My favorite kind to write is tanka poetry, which I recently discovered is not exactly what I always thought it was. . .

I started writing tanka poetry in about 10th grade as a requirement. Our textbooks taught us that tanka is an ancient style of Japanese poetry, similar to haiku, but having 31 syllables instead of just 17. This appealed to me, as I tend to be verbose. So, a tanka poem would have five lines -- two lines of 5 syllables each and three lines of 7 syllables each which could be placed in any order, according to said textbook. Well, I recently Googled tanka poetry when a friend asked me about it, and learned that in fact, there is a preferred pattern -- the lines are traditionally arranged 5-7-5-7-7.

Ack! Does this mean all the poems I've been writing all these years are wrong? Well, once I thought about it a bit I realized, no. That would be silly. For starters, to be a true tanka, it should be written in Japanese so the rules have already been bent. And the 5-7-5-7-7 thing is only customary -- from what I read, there aren't too many hard-and-fast type rules for tanka in English, especially nowadays. Besides, it's supposed to be art, emotion.

Now, mostly I write poetry for myself and don't tend to share it with too many people. But, since it's a new year, I thought maybe I'd step outside my comfort zone a bit and share a few tanka with you all. I looked through my archives and found this poem I wrote years ago that just happens to follow the official pattern:

Dandelion seeds
Drifting away on a breeze
Like so many dreams
You never dared to follow
Dancing just beyond your reach

And here's one from a few days ago that doesn't:

Pyromaniac's delight
Fire destroys to create
Scorched edges, ashes falling
Find what's left behind -
Beauty in relief

So I choose to keep writing with the guidelines I remember from my high school textbook -- each poem should express a single thought or emotion and use nature imagery -- and I'll let the 5 or 7 syllables fall where they may. I find the writing very therapeutic and I would encourage anyone else who's interested to give it a try. Click if you'd like to learn more about tanka