I'm getting there...

I hope to return to somewhat normal blogging over the next month. I know I'll definitely have thoughts on the oscar-bait releases and the awards race. We shall see how it goes.

I never got around to writing up Paprika (which I saw on the eve of my San Francisco trip). I know of no other way to describe this film than WTF. I basically came away with the impression of a mash-up of Miyazaki and Inception while dropping acid. I liked it. I think. And I'm not sure I could describe it.

The Giants. FACT.

I spent most of the last month glued to the t.v., cheering on the Giants. The coverage from over here was ridiculous. Either people were confused that San Francisco had a team (could announcers at least learn to pronounce names before going on air?) or they actively picked the other teams to win. Predictions? Oh, it'll be the Braves; they'll pull it out for Bobby Cox. Oh, it'll be Philly - they've got Halladay. It'll be the Rangers - they're having a year like they've never had before.

Well, so were we.

And while it would have been nice if we weren't coming back from the third-longest championship drought in baseball, if the last two trips to the series hadn't been utter disasters, if we had won it even once before as the San Francisco Giants, and, on a personal note, if I had been home for all of this, I couldn't be happier that it worked out this way. We've had amazing players before. We've had good teams. But I adore this team. I'm so glad that they - these crazy castoffs, misfits, freaks and characters - were the ones to finally win it all. What possible better representation of San Francisco could there be? They are weird and they are the absolute best.

Go ahead: watch this about a dozen more times.

Other things I loved about the win?
-Bruce Bochy showing the most emotion possibly ever (at about 7:08).
-Cody Ross' skip/pirouette during Renteria's home run (at about 1:45).
-Lincecum jumping out of the dugout (which Fox replayed like 8 times, and made me and my friend laugh EVERY TIME). Video here (at about 4:27).
-THIS. This is one of my favorite photos ever. It's up in my office. I also love this one, and this one, and this one, and this one, and this one, and this one. Oh, and this one.
-I love that Obama called to congratulate them, mentioned Buster Posey and Madison Bumgarner, and invited them all to the White House.
-And yes, I love that after Fox blatantly continued to pander to the Bushies, they lost. The blue state beat the red. The queers beat the steers. And the faithful beat a team from a state that didn't even know it had a baseball team until two weeks ago. (Even during the series the Cowboys continued to receive more coverage in Texas newspapers). I don't care that the Rangers had never been to a series before. It's our time.

A quick note on the 'riots' that weren't. Basically they were riots as only San Francisco could have done. As one person pointed out, it was 100 people causing problems, and 10,000 tweeting it. Not only that, but you could CHECK IN at the riots on foursquare. Oh, SF. I love you so. And does it count as a riot if a mariachi band shows up?

That said, how much would I have given to be here? Bless. Look how happy we are. (Now with video!)

WATCH IT AGAIN! (I'm also quite partial to this mix here, which samples both Ashkon (twice) and this gem)

Steve Perry leads the crowd in a Don't Stop Believin' Sing-a-long

Giants' timing couldn't be better for these times

Lights Sing-a-long at AT&T park. I love Lights. It is one of my all time favorite songs about San Francisco.

The next SI cover.

Honoring the teams of the past. Aw..... Willie Mays.

The party. I LOVE the video at Yancy's Saloon.

Brian Wilson rocks. Also? Aubrey Huff had his thong around his neck during the parade today. SO SAN FRANCISCO.

A basic recap.

The first title in 56 years; "the first time any living human could ever say this: The San Francisco Giants won the World Series."

The best starting pitcher in baseball.

They Really Are Giants.

The Giants are Worthy Champions. "Meanwhile, as a baseball fan (as opposed to a Giants fan), it's really easy to enjoy this team's success. The Giants wear classic uniforms in a beautiful ballpark. Their roster is studded with fascinating players like Tim Lincecum, Pablo Sandoval and Brian Wilson. Their manager was forced to make any number of tough decisions down the stretch and into the postseason, and nearly all of them worked brilliantly."

The party is worth the wait.

Our new Where's Waldo.

SF Giants add 'champions' to their storied legacy. Snow said, "They erased a lot of ghosts, didn't they? I've always said, beware of teams with a chip on their shoulders. Nobody expected this team to do anything. There was a lot of East Coast bias, and Fox (television) people talking about the Phillies and Texas. Everyone was curious to see how the Giants would perform on the biggest stage, and they beat 'em all."

"It's been a long time," someone said nearby.
"A long time?" Snow, said, incredulously. "It's been never!"
Yeah, about those predictions. Have you not heard? FEAR THE FUCKING BEARD!

The coverage the next day.

What the World Series Means to Me.

Hey dad... they did it.

The Beard is here for life.

Jesus. How excited are we?

Other great reactions? "It feels like I'm mainlining opium and Christmas presents when I type that. The San Francisco Giants have won the World Series. Ohhhhahhhaoooohh. That feels so danged good." (Reports of Tim Lincecum's demise...)

"I’ve had three or four different Journey songs stuck in my head for about three weeks now. I was pretty sure I didn’t like Journey before the postseason. Now it’s the soundtrack to my overactive brain." (Pre-game nervous chatter)

"the head of Buster Posey on the body of an eagle, and the head of Matt Cain on the body of a lion, and they’re flanking Tim Lincecum, who is riding a manticore and wielding a longsword made out of change-ups." (Open what tattoo are you getting thread)

I hope the party lasts through spring training. Let's do it all over again next year.

Well, now I feel better!

How rich are you? >> I'm loaded. It's official. I'm the 190,434,783 richest person on earth!

Possessions

I'm torn.

On the one hand, I really do believe that living a simple life is good. I think Affluenza should be required reading for all western people. I believe that "the less I have, the more I gain" (on a side note, do you know how crazy awesome Metallica and the SF Symphony sound together? Ahem.)

I've been a backpacker and know that I can carry everything I need on my back, turtle-style. I think voluntary simplicity, the work that the Center for a New American Dream does, and occasionally going without cell phones and constant internet are all fantastic or even wholly necessary things.

On the other hand, I was raised in not one, but TWO households like this:


Somewhere between growing up in two homes, constantly leaving possessions in the wrong place, moving roughly 29 times in my life thus far, losing items in said moves, and having the genetic coding of a packrat, I have developed a serious complex about my things.

I have this fantasy of all of my things being under ONE ROOF for the first time since I was five. Maybe even by the time I turn thirty. It will happen someday. It will happen sooner if I have less shit.

But - I'm very attached to a lot of my things. Particularly gifts from others. Like a beanie baby I was given in high school. I don't particularly want the beanie baby, but I like what it represents and can't get rid of it. But I don't really know what to do with it, either.

I was recently sent this quote, just as I was thinking about this topic [Ed note: this quote may or may not come from a Scientology ad. But I like the sentiment. On a similar note, I once found out that one of the quotes I used on my yearbook page came from a Macintosh computer ad, but I still like it, too. (I will not, however, be doing any linking to any scientology sites, proper citation be damned.)]

"I am not my car, my job, my spouse, my family, my house, my neighborhood, my level of education, the clothes I wear, the friends I keep, or the food I eat. So if those things are not me, then who am I?

My identity lies in my authentic self; the self that is there even after I sell my car, or move to another country.

The point I am trying to make is: if I were to lose my possessions, or change them, would I still exist? And my answer to this is, yes, of course. That is why I don’t entangle my identity with my physical environment. I drive a nicer car now, yes, but I’m still the same woman who drove the old car. I own a wonderful home in the suburbs, but this hasn’t changed me from who I was when I lived in an apartment in the city. And if I had to sell my home, or downgrade my car, I would still be the same person.

Not to say that people don’t change, or things don't change, but I am saying that people should not think they will change because of their things.

Possessions don’t make people."

It is sort of an interesting thought piece, if not particularly well written or profound. Because lots of people do identify themselves by those first few categories. I think of myself as a San Franciscan. And a pescetarian. I think my education does shape who I am in some respects. However, I don't think my job defines me (or does it define me as someone who cares more about her free time and social life than a career?)

Anyways, I could go back and forth about the other definitions for ages. But as I'm prepping for a yardsale and a move, I think I'll keep the last sentence as a mantra. My possessions do not define me. I do not need to keep my grandfather's clock. I do not need to move every book I have ever read across the country.

Now, if I can say that enough times so that it stops giving me palpitations, we'll be in good shape.

Anatomy of a 2am Browser History

I'm not sure how it is my brain ceases thinking past midnight and yet continues to function. For some reason, 1am seemed like a reasonable time to try to educate myself on classical composers.

Basically, instead of turning off the laptop and going to bed, like a sane person, I did this:



Here's what happened - and no, I do not know why my brain made some of these leaps in the wee hours of the morning.

So, I was listening to Toccata and Fugue in D minor, because I had been looking up horror films on netflix, so I put on my halloween mix.
Which led to me looking up Bach.
Which led to me looking up who qualified as a Baroque composer.
Which led to me looking up Baroque art.
Which led to me looking up Gothic composers, as a comparison.
Which led to me looking up Commedia dell'arte.
Which led to me looking up the Agatha Christie which revolves around Commedia dell'arte (it's Harlequin's Lane in the Mysterious Mr. Quin.)
Which led to me looking up Stravinsky.
Which led to me looking up Tchaikovsky and then the 1812 Overture.
Which led to me looking up and deciding that I prefer Russian composers, on the whole, to French ones.
Which led me to looking up the history of Night on Bald Mountain, because I can never remember if it is Mussorgsky or Rimsky-Korsakov that wrote it.
Which led to looking up Silly Symphonies.
Which led to the Old Mill.
Which led to old Betty Boop cartoons.

At which point I looked up, it was 2am and I realized that I am a moron.

Woof.

So on a personal note, I just signed up for this thing at my gym; it's a 5-week BURN challenge, starting the week of the 22nd. It's small group training (which I like) and cardio/weight interval training (which I like) but the cardio section is treadmills. I am not a runner. I will do pretty much anything that isn't running. But the challenge is for whoever is most improved, so I think I have a shot there. If you go from mollusk speed to sloth speed, that's far more of an improvement than ostrich to cheetah.