Better than a Badger

A film version of "The Golden Compass"--the first book in a series that I quite enjoyed--is slated for a December release. I find it fun (but sometimes difficult) to see a movie based on a good book, because the director's vision usually differs quite significantly my own.
Initially, I was a bit perturbed to see that Nicole Kidman had been cast in a leading role. I can't think of any film of hers that I have liked. "Moulin Rouge" was interesting, but that had more to do with the crazy directing style of Baz Luhrmann. Let's see...."Far and Away"? "Eyes Wide Shut"? Nope, I think she worked too much with Tom Cruise, who also hasn't made any good movies. Why are these people so famous?
Anyway, since her character is a silkily charming villian, it will probably work. Daniel Craig seems perfect for the part of Lord Asriel (I'm not a fan of the whole Bond franchise, but I think he made a good 007), and I only hope that the little girl in the starring role can act. A weak, stumbing heroine would ruin the whole thing. In recent years, though, other films in this vein like "Harry Potter" and "Narnia" have managed to exhibit some talented kids and become excellent adaptations of imaginative stories.
I went to the website The Golden Compass Movie to view the trailer, and stumbled upon another version of the "what animal are you?" quiz. All right, this one is supposed to reveal the incarnation of one's soul, a daemon, which takes a friendly animal form. I found this concept to be quite appealing when I read the novel. Who wouldn't want a constant buddy (and a cuddly one at that) with whom to face the world?
Although I don't agree with all the characteristics--I've never considered myself all that competitive--I ended up with a pretty cool animal. And it's a cat, naturally.

My Unsolicited Views

My lovely blog friend Feminist Chick has just returned from a much-deserved holiday in London and Paris. While I am quite jealous of her good fortune at such an opportunity (but much less jealous than I would have been had I not recently had the chance to spend 10 days in Italy, and much less jealous than I would be if I had to go to work today), I am excited to hear her impressions and see pictures. In the mean time, I decided to give my own opinions.

I am, and have been since a child, an Anglophile. I used to watch the BBC and affect an accent. I still sometimes buy loo paper and take the lift and put "u"s in the middle of words like neighbour and favourite. My favorite Monkee is Davy Jones. I majored in English Literature and totally enjoy Shakespeare. All things British appeal to me. Well, except blood pudding. And fox hunting. And those little pre-made packaged triangles of buttered white-bread sandwiches. But otherwise, I love the accents, the countryside, the humour.

The farther north you go, the more rugged and interesting the British Isles become. I chose to study abroad in Aberdeen, because that's about as far north of as I could get (although I did take a bus up to MacDuff and Banff just for kicks. I liked the names and wanted to see that northern coast. Wick was a little too hard to get to--but there's always next time). Scotland had even more appeal than the rest of the U.K. because of the brogue and the kilts and the lochs and the highland cattle. But I'm getting off the subject here: I was going to discuss London.

London is a strange place. The sites (locations....palaces, squares, parks) make for lots of nice sights (views from my eyeballs), but it's a busy, dirty, crowded, expensive place. It's all bustle and bankers and barristers and it's hard to find a nice cafe or spot to relax and watch the town go by. You have to join the crowd and go with it. I mean, in 2000, I saw the Olsen twins outside of Harrods. What on earth was I doing at a department store while on vacation? That doesn't sound like me. I'm definitely not posh enough for Knightsbridge (as made evident by the rich tv-star company), but it was one of those places you somehow end up because you can't find a quiet place to just sit and enjoy (except the Tower of London, which is cool despite the creepy history).

So while I am still a HUGE fan of the U.K., Paris certainly tops London for ambiance. You can spend hours at cafes, eating pan-au-chocolat with your coffee and people-watching. You can stroll and stroll and not run out of unique streets to explore. The food and wine are consistently good. I do have a language issue, since I've never been able to properly pronounce those French vowels or that tricky "r", but even so, I would not hesitate to go back in an instant.

Who am I kidding, though, really? Where in Western Europe would I decline to visit? Nothing comes to mind. Even if I did end up in a second-rate suburb somewhere, I could just hop on a train and easily get wherever I wanted instead (unlike an American suburb, where you would be totally lost without a car. Help me, I'm stuck in Manassas! When's the next train out of Wesley Chapel? Thonotosassa?) I currently have interest in Zurich (starts with a "Z", can't be bad) and Riga (why not visit exotic Latvia?) if anyone is offering free tickets.

Facial Blindness

I recently saw a report on a man who lacked the ability to recognize faces. He could not tell if a person walking up to him was a stranger or someone he'd known his entire life. Some brain abnormality made it impossible for him to pick out the face of even his mother. You can imagine the frustration and embarrassment such a disorder could bring.

When I first heard of this issue, I couldn't help but relate to it. Apparently, there is a broad spectrum of face blindness, with minor recognition troubles being more common than previously thought. People with mild face blindness may use clues like hairstyles, setting, clothing and voices to recognize people instead of instantly knowing the face. While I generally have no trouble recognizing my friends and family, I am easily thrown off when trying to locate them in a crowd. It often takes numerous encounters before I recognize a new face, and I have trouble picturing anyone's face in my mind.

I have a slight knack for drawing, but, no matter how hard I try, I have great difficulty drawing someone's likeness. I can draw a perfectly respectable picture of a face, but if I try to copy from a photo or a model, something doesn't add up. The face just does not match. If I sketch from another drawing or painting, however, in which the likeness has already been transferred from "real life", I am able to reproduce that certain combination that makes each face unique and recognizable.

I also occasionally have trouble figuring out who's who when watching a movie, a problem I've inherited from my mother. We find it especially hard when there is a large cast of white men who all have short brownish hair and wear boring clothes. The two of us recently tried to watch the film "The Good Shepherd" and could not keep track of the characters. It irritated me that Matt Damon's character wore glasses the entire time. I thought it was quite unfair that they gave a notable prop to the one actor whose face was most recognizable to me, and did nothing else to distinguish between the other guys. I mean, was an eye patch or a hideous scar asking too much?

I went online to do some research about this condition and found a very interesting website Faceblind.org which included some tests to assess the problem. Surprisingly, I did okay on the tests, especially the one recognizing famous faces. I guess I've seen too many "People" magazines in my lifetime to not know Brad Pitt on sight.

So my inquiries have just left me with more questions--which always seems to be the case. Whenever I start with just one question, I end up with exponential growth (but that's another issue altogether). So now I wonder if I have a mild brain abnormality (well, one of many, I guess), which would be genetically supported by my mother sharing the same difficulty. Or perhaps I just don't remember faces well due to lack of interest (it was quite a dull movie on a boring topic). That would transfer over to the real world, as well (not that I'm saying I encounter a lot of uninteresting people on a daily basis...). Maybe I don't remember faces on the first few meetings because I don't bother to look too closely. Perhaps if I just tried harder I would recognize loads of people and be quite friendly and social.

I'd rather just blame my brain.

Adventure Awaits

In the words of Tom Petty: "What lies ahead I have no way of knowing, but under my feet the grass is growing. It's time to move on, time to get going." My two years in this crazy place are drawing to an end, and just in time. Two years is a good length of time to live in one location; any shorter and you may miss some nuances that make a place unique, but any longer and you begin to overstay your welcome.
So now I will have a new state to explore and new adventures to write about. And of course, lots of new questions to research on Google. I've already looked up info on living at high elevations. My new home will be at more than 7000 feet elevation, by far the highest I've ever lived. My body will, apparently, make more red blood cells to deal with breathing in less oxygen. I will have to watch out for sunburn and dehydration (so no big change from Florida there). Best of all, I will get to use the alternate high-altitude directions for cake and brownie mixes.
This will be my first occasion to live in Mountain Time. I've lived in Eastern, Central, Pacific and Alaskan, so that rounds things out quite nicely (I will probably skip living in Hawaiian time, but you never can tell). I've also managed to live in GMT and the time zones +1 and +3 from there. Some day I will have to move to Riga or Istanbul in order to get the zone +2. Anyway, Mountain Time sounds cool, and it has the Continental Divide which is hard to beat.
I will no longer be hot all of the time, but I'll have to watch out for frostbite instead. I will miss the waterbirds, turtles, dolphins and manatees, but I should soon get to see pronghorn antelope, prairie dogs, moose and other western wildlife. I'll gladly give up the intercoastal waterway, scary grated bridges or people saying, "It's not the heat, it's the humidity".
I guess I'd better take a few more walks on the beach, since the nearest beach from my new home will be over a thousand miles away in the Pacific Northwest. The mountains, however, will be right out my back door.