not too happy

I put up a post yesterday that was too private; one person saw it before I took it down.  However, it was the one person who would have been upset by it, and he was.  So much for pushing the limits of a public blog.

In general, though, I seem to be accumulating a reasonable readership, though I don't get comments or feedback.  Maybe everyone just likes watching the clips.

I was home yesterday with a touch of sciatica - well, more than a touch.  And seeing a chiropractor is a pipe dream.  My insurance charges a $50 co-pay, although my chiropractor only charges $45 to see him without insurance.  Still, too much money.

I've been watching things other than Bollywood for the past few days.  It was getting a little rich for my blood; or perhaps over-the-line obsessive. 

Still trying to figure what to do with this urge to be creative or to reach out.  I always think about writing - lots of folks think I should - but there's no book here.  There's just no book.  There never has been.  The things I know well are too boring to me, and/or too obvious.  I would have to write about something I know but which isn't me and isn't my life.  I don't know if such a thing exists, at least in my head.  Maybe my brain just doesn't stretch enough.

I'm almost done with the new Stephen King book, 11/22/63, and it's been awfully good so far -- just curious about how he ends it.  Not sure what I'm going to read next, but probably non-fiction.  I like to switch back and forth...unless I'm gorging myself on a single author, as I did with the Preston/Childs "Pendergast" books.  But I'll probably "flip" through the Kindle and see what's around.  I'm only carrying a small number of my books on the Kindle now...if you can call 500 "small."  I have easily 1,500 more stored on my computer at home.  Too many on the Kindle makes it a little sluggish.  And when I charge it, I do trade books around.

It's payday today, and I feel like I'm already out of money.  Most of it's spent by the time it gets here:  bills, Metrocard, analysis, and some paying back (for instance, our pharmacist lets us slide until payday).  It really depresses me, especially because I always want to be able to have a little treat, buy a little something...and it's not gonna happen.  Or if it does, we'll be short.  Things would work a lot better if I weren't the only one employed in the family.

obsession?

Even if Barry does think that Bollywood movies are good for me, it doesn't mean I don't have an unhealthy obsession.  But I'm starting to learn that I'm not necessarily the best judge of my mental state -- it came to me via analysis, which would mean I'm spending my money wisely. 

I've mentioned, I think, that I enjoy reading AB's blog and that there's a community of around 300 people who are daily commentors.  (The interface here marks the latter word as misspelled with either -er or -or.)  And I'm starting to see some really icky obsessiveness there.  I think that the people who call him "a god" need to get a life, or perhaps a more conventional god.  And there are clearly some women who are very much in love with him, or think they are; crushes aren't a dreadful thing, but sharing them with strangers, and particularly with the object of the crush, seems weird to me.  Some of it makes me kind of queasy, and some of it makes me feel sorry for the people involved.  AB is kind to and patient with them all, but I wonder what he really thinks about some of those folks.  If he's truly as spiritual as he seems, maybe he doesn't judge them -- which would make him a way better person than I.

That having been said...here is a recent find on YouTube:

I think this is really funny, and the ponytail is kind of cute.

And one more:

This is an actual American-style music video, not a movie clip.  Adnan Sami is a Canadian of Pakistani descent, I believe, and living in Mumbai.  I have no idea what this song means, but I like it and the two of them are cute together.

bad smells, odd hair and unusual fingers

I've mentioned that our downstairs neighbor, John, died about a month ago.  What still remains, alas, is a dreadful smell in the building.  He was probably only dead in his apartment for a few days, but this is my first experience with having had someone die in a small apartment building (three floors, six apartments in all), and I (fortunately) had no experience with this smell of death.  It's something like bad body odor mixed with something a little worse.  It's sad, plus it's just plain awful.  Carmine, the landlord, hung a pine Christmas wreath on the front door (right next to the door to Johnny's apartment), and while I think it was done for seasonal reasons, it did cut the smell a lot.  But it's not gone, and though it's dissipated a good deal, what's left is equally unpleasant on every floor.  Where we live on three is just as bad as it is on one.  A neighbor on two put a container of some kind of odor-absorber right outside her door, the kind of thing you'd put next to a cat box.  But even in a weakened state, the smell is still there, all over the building; I smell it every time.  At least it's not in our apartment.  It's not a good reminder of Johnny; it's a bad reminder of his sad end.

I started a second blog on another site, but I haven't really posted.  I'm not sure I really need another place to write, if you add up this blog, Facebook, Twitter, email, and the comments section on Amit-ji's blog (I add at least a short comment pretty much every day).  I also do have people to talk to -- Barry, my friends, and particularly my analyst.  Between it all, most bases are covered.  But not all of them, and not all together, and not all written.  Obviously, my analytic session once a week is where I can get out the most sensitive stuff, but I guess I feel the need to write that all down, too.  Where to find the time to do that, in addition to stuffing down three-hour movies?

Dribs and drabs of B-wood nonsense:  I finally did see a missing-link picture today, a photo of Amit-ji between his younger bushy-haired period and his present suspect coif.  His hair did get thin, his hairline did recede a bit, and though the picture I saw wasn't dated, it looks to me like the mid/late-80s, which is when he gave up film for several years and I guess wasn't photographed much.  There are differing opinions as to what exactly is on his head now:  transplant, weave, or piece/wig.  I sometimes think I see what appear to be hairpiece lines, that spot where the purchased hair meets the natural hair badly.  But by in large, he seems to have better-than-average hair replacement.

Drib #2:  Amit-ji had an accident in the early 80s where a firecracker went off in his left hand.  It had to do with the Diwali holiday, though I can't remember if it was an actual celebration or one in a movie.  He had some surgeries on it and apparently he can use it, but I found a picture today that showed it pretty clearly, and he seems to be missing the last digits on all four fingers.

Drib #3:  on the other hand, the popular and handsome Bollywood actor Hrithik Roshan has an extra thumb on his right hand.  It is weird as hell.  Doesn't make him any less handsome (ditto, of course, for Amit-ji's hair and hand), but it's peculiar-looking for sure.  I'll try to take a little time to post pictures from home.

Oh, one more thing:  I finally found a source for mp3's of filmi music, and I've crammed by mp3 player with it.  (I have a Sansa Fuze which I love dearly.)  I was curious to see how much I like the music without the visuals (or, as they call it in Bollywood films, the "picturizations").  I like it very well so far.

masala therapy

Barry pointed out to me the other day that I haven't had any of those bad mood dips or uncontrollable weeping since I started my -- some would say obsessive -- romance with Bollywood.  Additionally, I find myself doing a lot of related research so I can have a better understanding of the movies: Indian culture, religion, politics.  I probably know about 20 words in Hindi, at this point, but can also remember and say a lot of Hindi movie and song titles.  (I have English subtitles to thank for most of this.)

So on the one hand, it's a crazy obsession which includes a hard crush on you-know-you...but it's also become something of an interesting hobby and a path of self-education.  Plus, thanks to the internet, it's mostly free, with the exception of a few movies I've had to buy because I can't find them subtitled online.

I find I'm not too interested in anything else, but that's par for the course when I adopt a new enthusiasm.  There were times when I was interested in nothing but jewelry and semi-precious stones; times where I was interested in nothing but (God help me) the music of the Holy Modal Rounders; and times where my mind was totally consumed by (ditto) bottlecaps.  (Don't get me started about the connection between the latter two.)

OK, I'll pretend to be well-rounded, and post some bottlecap pictures, for old times' sake:

I've also gone back to Twitter, where I can be found as @northofconey.  It seems less difficult than it once was to come up with brief bites, though I only have a handful of followers.  If you use it, come see me.

what I am reading now and so on

I am reading the new bio of Steve Jobs. Even though I'm a PC and very suspicious of empires like Apple, I find Jobs to be a fascinating character.

I watched Bollywood movies again a lot of this weekend.  Barry pointed out that I haven't had any severe mood dips since I started watching Bollywood movies.

What I've had, however, is an increased interest in sex, or rather, increased feelings of desire.  Since I've been dead from the waist down for a couple of months, this is a very nice change -- although, as before, there's not much to do with it. There hasn't really been anything to do with it for 3 or 4 years, except enjoy it on my own (ahem).  This is a tough-to-solve issue, and my husband is not much help -- won't be the guy, and won't sit still for anyone else to be the guy (I've never asked, but his attitude about this is pretty clear).  Some months ago, he said to me something along the lines of that he was sorry he hadn't been able to provide the "intimate" part of things, and that's when I realized that there was no hope that he would even try to participate again.  I am determined not to spend the rest of my life without sex, but I'm not sure how that's gonna work.  I had something of a patched-up solution during the early '00s, but that particular scenario, as the other person used to call it, is off the table.

I'm not sure if analysis is helping with this, or if it's just my hormone replacement pills -- that is, the return of desire. Maybe it's just the Bollywood movies.

This is the part of Baghban that didn't make me cry.  What a weepie that movie was!  Here, they celebrate the holiday of Holi, big B looking his fine 2003 self.

In an earlier movie, Silsila, there's another Holi scene, featuring the beautiful song Rang Baarse, but Silsila (1983) made me squirm a little.  Amitabh-ji plays a guy who's cheating on his wife.  His wife is played by his real wife, Jaya.  His girlfriend is played by Rekha, with whom he was suspected of having a long-running affair.  In this clip, he dances at Holi with the girlfriend, where the wife looks unhappy in the back.  The Amitabh/Rekha scene are very sexy, though she barely speaks in the movie -- mostly just looks smouldering.

This song, Rang Baarse, was actually written by Amitabh and his father, who was a famous poet (and I can't remember the spelling of his name just now).  Beautiful song, though not as peppy as the Holi song from Baghban.

Rang Baarse is the third song in the Bbuddah Hoga Tera Baap medley, along with Kaike Paan Banaraswala and Pag Ghungroo.  (This is just in case you think I didn't do my Bollywood homework.)  It's interesting to see AB stealing his old steps, but some of them are the best steps ever.

amazing! well, maybe not so amazing, but it's a first for me

Well, I've probably mentioned that I read you-know-who's blog on a daily basis, and always leave a comment, even a small one.  OK, well...I got one back from himself yesterday.  Check out http://bigb.bigadda.com/?p=8793#comments, item #38.  Who cares if it's only a couple of words?  I mean, OMG.  I am having the most severe attack of fan-geek craziness.  I knew from reading the comments that he does touch base with some of the EF (extended family, as he refers to our little fan-pack), but I wasn't sure how it was done.  I guess this is the first time I ever saw him post responses.  Made me wild. 

is this working?

I find I am frustrated with this blog.  Since it is not anonymous, the amount of self-censorship I feel I need to do is enormous.  Even the story I recently told about my dad trying to shut my uncle out of the luncheon with the cousins seemed a little dicey.  There's some huge stuff going on involving my family that I can't get into at all.  Although it's extremely unlikely that my husband would ever read this blog (he doesn't really like to read, and most of his online activity involves music), I don't feel I can talk about my marriage.  Can't talk about sex.  Can't really talk much about work; I don't have anything bad to say about this job, but there are some annoying people here and there.  Can't get too specific about money.  I can only write a fraction of what I (still) have to say about V.  And on and on.

Before this, I had a blog on Xanga which was 100% anonymous -- in fact, I think it was closed except to other Xanga members -- and I was able to fly with anything that was on my mind, although I did change the names.  I had a small but devoted readership and they left a lot of comments.  But I couldn't share it with anyone who knew me.

I don't know what kind of in-between there might be.  I do subscribe to the wisdom that you shouldn't post anything that you wouldn't want even one person to read, but maybe I'm being overly careful.  I don't believe my entire name appears anywhere in here, but there's enough personal information that at least one person was able to identify me (though to be fair, she did have an inside track: she used to be married to my husband).  I don't worry that much about being read and identified by my actual family members, co-workers/bosses, or friends/ex-friends, but I am concerned that people who know them will read something and mention it.  I even had this problem to some extent with the anonymous blog, concerning V. -- many actual details about him would have made him immediately recognizable to anyone who knew him or even knew of him, and as I recall, I put him in a different line of work.

I feel less engaged with this blog, maybe because it seems somewhat superficial compared to the old one.  It seems to me that my entries are either too dull or too light.  Does anyone really want to read about my welfare benefits or my peculiar MST3K and Bollywood obsessions?  I hope the various YouTube clips are at least enjoyable.

The best solution I can think of would be a second, anonymous blog, although the idea of writing two blogs seems like a lot to take on.  I did email Xanga to retrieve my username and password, since it's been a very long time since I've been there.  I'd at least like to reread some of the old blog, and maybe start writing there again (in addition to here), or possibly start a new second blog.  I think it would make me feel a little more comfortable with keeping this one focused on entertainment and media.  Even though I realize I'm a little embarrassed to be so focused on movies and TV and music, the truth is that I'm a big consumer of those things, and I actually know a pretty fair amount about them.