Jingle

Movie Tag Game

Tagged in by @owlrageousjones! List seven favorite films, and then seven mutuals. (I'm going to whiff on the latter; sans the spouse, I don't have many movie buffs in my orbit.)

Favorite Movies

1. The Godfather (1972, dir. Francis Ford Coppola); 2. Batman Begins (2005, dir. Christopher Nolan); 3. The Dark Knight (2008, dir. Christopher Nolan); 4. Die Hard (1998, dir. John McTiernan).

There's a reason these four are grouped together! There was a time when my spouse struggled with falling asleep; and so we employed the above films as a soothing soundtrack, against which they could peacefully nod off.

(At least, as soothing as one might expect from a chorus of Chicago typewriters, eagerly punctuating Sonny Corleone; or John McClane, yelling intensely as he improvisationally repels down the side of Nakatomi Plaza.)

5. Grosse Pointe Blank (1997, dir. George Armitage).

An unusual blend of dark comedy, romance, and the occasional action set-piece; all set to a Gen X soundtrack. The premise sounds like high-concept word salad ("An ailing assassin in the midst of a midlife crisis rekindles an old relationship and battles fellow death-dealing competitors while attending his high school reunion"); and yet it somehow just works in the hands of the superbly capable cast.

(As a personal aside: there is a scene in which the protagonist finds himself staring into the wide eyes of a newborn infant, as Queen and David Bowie's Under Pressure swells in the background. I found this moment particularly touching; not least of which because it spurred me to the realization that I wanted to become a parent.)

6. John Wick (2014, dir. Chad Stahelski).

A fantastic example of a modestly-budgeted action film succeeding wildly on the strength of its compelling premise, intriguing world-building, and marriage of breathtaking choreography and stylish cinematography.

(Honorable mentions: Drive (1997); Dredd (2012); and The Raid: Redemption (2011) and it's follow-up, The Raid 2: Berandal (2014).)

7. Transformers: The Movie (1986, dir. Nelson Shin).

My god; there is so much I can (and will!) say about this movie.

For starters: it is not, conventionally-speaking, good.

Toy manufacturer Hasbro demanded that the dramatis personae of the first two seasons of the Transformers cartoon be written off; to make room for a new cast (and by extension, new toys). The producers gleefully complied by slaying beloved characters in an orgy of robot-on-robot violence that traumatized a generation of movie-going children.

(I should know; I was one of them!)

The narrative is nonsensical; and bounces frantically from one hair metal-accompanied set piece to the next without pause - until our protagonist (who has grown in literal height, if not as a person) unleashes the power of a previously undocumented McGuffin to save the day.

(In this respect, I harbor the belief that the producers cribbed significantly from 1981's Heavy Metal; which, respectfully, should probably not be the first choice of inspiration for a children's movie.)

Despite these deficiencies, however: it is a very, very watchable film!

The characters are likeable; the dialog, eminently quotable; and the voice cast perform their utmost.* The animation is spectacularly frenetic; and the soundtrack is surprisingly catchy (featuring the work of Stan Bush and Vince DiCola - notable for their contributions to Bloodsport and Rocky IV, respectively; and even "Weird Al" Yankovic)!

More than anything: this is a movie that trades in Rule Of Cool™ with childlike glee:

"What if we had a fully-operational battlestation; but instead of blowing planets up with a laser, it ate them?"

"...The two of them are out of ammo, and there's hundreds of enemies. So they hold a destruction derby - only it's underwater, right?"

"So the barbarian trash robots turn into motorcycles, and take turns riding each other, and they chase the good guys and then the good guy leader is exploded but it's okay, because the other good guys use the power of nonsense words to convince the trash robots to make him better; and then they have a dance-off..."

You won't learn anything from watching Transformers: The Movie; but it's fun, and strange, and surprisingly creative (while still operating within the unexplained requirement that everything and everyone turn into a robot, sooner or later)!

* There is a persistent rumor that Orson Welles was displeased to have starred in what was effectively a glorified toy commercial; exacerbated by both his self-professed lack of understanding of the movie's premise and plot, and his passing just five days after completing recording. This was not the case, however; as his grandchildren were fans, and he was enthused to have contributed to a franchise they loved.

Me

And the photoshoot results are in!

It's not often I do something like this - I'm still very self-conscious about my appearance - but it's nice once in a while to see how far I've come.

My friend has a new album in the works; and released a preview of the title song: Sleepyhead. It’s an achingly beautiful piece; go take a listen.

️ Seventeen years, with many more to come! ❤️

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO MY WIFE! SEVENTEEN YEARS MARRIED AND COUNTING!!!

“Oh boy! It looks like I’m going to make it through the entire night without a single nocturnal panic attack!”

The nefarious 6:41am:

Night terror

Last night I had a very strange night terror episode.

Normally I will be dreaming, and things will get progressively more anxiety-inducing - e.g. something will be chasing me, or I’ll be trying to fight off an attacker. Then my brain will conjure up a truly terrifying phenomenon (like shadow people launching themselves at me en masse) and I’ll scream myself awake.

This time though, I dreamt that I was in my bed... And that God (who I don’t actually believe in) was beaming sound into the fan next to the bed, so I would hear it... And that sound was: cat litter being poured.

Then the screaming started!

I really, really don’t know what my brain was thinking last night.

Fever dreams

Between stress and a good old-fashioned rhinovirus, I've been having a lot of strange dreams; last night was no exception.

First, I dreamt that an Italian man was attempting to seduce me. (I'm not sure why my fevered brain opted for a Mediterranean origin - perhaps because I knew an incorrigible duo of Italian Lotharios in my younger years?)

Naturally, I rebuffed him - I'm a married woman!

Second, I dreamt that I was hurriedly pacing an unfamiliar street, with only an undersized towel to hide my modesty. I was of course then approached by several men with the intent to perpetrate a robbery at a gunpoint. (Most unpleasant stuff.)

Interestingly however: in both instances, I was incredibly aware that (a) I was trans, and (b) in the dreams themselves, fully physically transitioned (to the point that the aforementioned Casanova was mistakenly under the impression that I was cis).

Until now, my dreams have generally been modeled on my former identity and appearance; and it is both fascinating, and long overdue, to see them finally catch up!

John Walker in The Falcon And The Winter Soldier.

Scars

I should probably preface this with a content warning for discussion of self-harm.

I’m left-handed; when I’m receiving a vaccination or having blood drawn, I will normally offer up my right arm - as was recently the case when I received my first COVID vaccine dose.

While staring at my arm in the mirror, I realized that I had self-harm scars that are still very visible; and based on their appearance, very obviously self-inflicted. (This is not the case elsewhere - they have either faded, or are normally hidden.)

I’m mortified, as it means the provider that administered my dose absolutely saw them (and will again, as I tend to get pretty mean injection site pain and I really don’t want to experience that in my dominant arm).

More generally though, it got me thinking. The reason I struggle with others seeing what I did to myself is not because I’m ashamed, but because on some level I feel that my suffering was not legitimate - that I hurt myself not because I was truly in pain, but for attention. An imitation of the struggles of others.

There isn’t really a good answer here; just another piece of the puzzle to make sense of.

Oh no

I was doing my progesterone shot last night and the plunger in the syringe got stuck 20% of the way in. I really put some force behind but, but it wasn’t moving and I was terrified that if it did suddenly give way I’d dump the entire contents of the syringe into my thigh in a split-second.

(I’m not sure of the exact ramifications for doing so, but my nurse practitioner was quite clear during instruction that this was an undesirable outcome.)

I really didn’t want to toss the rest of the progesterone (it’s not like I had more on hand), so I withdrew the syringe and switched to a fresh needle. Poked myself again, depressed the plunger, and...

...The syringe got stuck again.

As classic “Well, what the hell do I do now?” scenarios go, sitting there with an immovable syringe sticking out of your thigh has to count pretty highly, I reckon.

I wiggled the plunger a bit and applied more force than sensible, and finally the damn thing overcame whatever the resistance was and immediately dumped half the load (so I guess I will find out why that’s a no-no in short order). Everything proceeded smoothly from there.

I’m still nonplussed as to what the issue was. A manufacturing defect in the syringe itself perhaps? Some kind of sediment in the progesterone blocking the barrel of the needle? I have no idea.

I just really hope that this doesn’t happen again...

Update 1: I talked to my friend about this and her first go-around, the needle disengaged from the syringe while it was in her leg. OMG!

Update 2: I had more soreness than usual but was otherwise okay; so I’m guessing that firehosing half the dose didn’t do too much damage, thankfully.