bitterfig

I had both Thursday and Friday (07/03 and 07/04) off so I ended up getting a bit of a holiday weekend.

 

Thursday I did mostly mundane stuff—laundry, grocery shopping, seeing my therapist—but in the evening my brother-in-law took me to see Dario Argento’s Mother of Tears.  It was playing at my favorite theater, the Music Box, which is one of the few old style, non-multi-plex movie houses left in Chicago.  It’s so beautiful, it’s been around since the 1920’s and has the old fashioned marquee outside, a huge, ornate theater, even a red curtain over the screen that goes up when the show starts.  They operate as an art house and revival theater and show a lot of foreign films and more off-beat movies.  It’s actually been ages since I’ve been there.  Lately I’ve only been getting to the movies about once a month.  Back when I was working for Biff (and making a bit more $$$$) I actually used to go to the movies at least once a week.  I rather miss being able to do that. 

 

Mother of Tears is the third installment in Argento’s Three Mothers Trilogy that began with the 1977 classic Suspiria (one of my favorite horror films) and continued Inferno (which I haven’t seen) in 1980.  These movies deal with three sister witches—the Mother of Tears, The Mother of Sighs and the Mother of Darkness—who have houses in Germany (Suspiria), New York (Inferno), and Rome (Mother of Tears) from which they spread chaos and evil. 

 

I’ve always preferred the chilling, atmospheric giallo of Argento’s early days to his latter work which is more baroque and vividly horrific.  Still, Mother of Tears was a pretty enjoyable as a gory horror movie with strikingly bizarre imagery and minimal story.  Many creative things were done with intestines, and some gorgeous Roman architecture was shown as packs of witches resembling Madonna circa 1983 descended on the ancient city. 

 

There was actually a strangely retro vibe to the whole film, as if it had come a few years after the previous chapters of the trilogy rather than nearly three decades later.  All the witches wore new-wave make-up and the scariest witch, a Japanese girl with a silver front tooth reminded me of nothing so much as a particularly menacing Tama Janowitz. 

 

The heroine of the film was played by Dario Argento’s daughter Asia.   She’s been in several of his films but this was the first I’d had the opportunity to see.  I’m fascinated by the idea of a man directing his daughter in horror/exploitation films being terrorized, raped, tortured and occasionally grotesquely murdered.  There’s something so pathological yet telling about it.  It really lends a whole other level of uncomfortableness to something like a routine fan service shower scene when you know that the director is the actresses Dad.

 

My brother-in-law Dean had brought a bottle of citron vodka along and we had spiked cokes but I didn’t drink enough of mine to even get buzzed as vodka sort of turns my stomach.  Even with the citrus flavoring it still tastes thick and chemical and sort of vile to me.  I consider this repulsion a good sign.  My ex-boyfriend, who was a recovering alcoholic, always said that one of the things that separated alcohol abusers from casual drinkers was that the abuser would drink anything available to the point of intoxication whereas the casual drinker tended to have personal preferences and wouldn’t drink if they couldn’t have something they enjoyed. 

 

I’ve been drinking again for a little over a month and it really is an experiment to see if I can drink socially and casually.  So far I feel like I’m doing all right.  I did go out of bounds at the party a couple weeks ago where I embarrassed my sister but I didn’t totally lose it.  In the past I’ve often figured that once I go past a point I might as well relinquish all control and finish off the bottle.  I didn’t do that this time and I think it’s because I’m trying to look at drinking differently, not as a huge cathartic experience I allow myself a couple times a year but as something I can incorporate into my life and do in moderation maybe once a week or so. 

 

As I said, it’s an experiment.  If it doesn’t work I’ll probably go back to not drinking at all because I know how dangerous problem drinking can be. 

Yesterday I had lunch with my sister, her husband and kids and my brother-in-law’s mother and sister at the Hancock building.  Traffic was light because of the holiday so I was able to bike in.  There are people I work with who regularly bike 20+ miles a day but for me the five miles from my place near Logan Square downtown and back was a pretty long ride, definitely the longest I’ve attempted this year and it left me pretty exhausted.  This may have been for the best because I was actually able to sleep last night despite the war zone like noise levels that go along with the 4^th of July. 

 

Still, I do think I might need to start adjusting my calorie intake a bit for my level of activity.  I’m riding my bike fairly regularly now and I know that burns more calories than my usual walking but I’m still eating the same amount (around 1800 calories per day which according to thedailyplate.com is a little less than maintenance level for a sedentary person of my size).  I’ve been quite tired the past couple of days but also restless, I can’t seem to concentrate on anything and I think it may have to do with this but I’m afraid to eat more.  Every time I do manage to eat 1850 or 1900 calories during the course of a day I usually counter it by doing extra exercise or eating less the next day.  

 

I find it very frustrating that it’s still so difficult for me to make these adjustments.

 

On a more positive note lunch went well.  Everything seemed okay with my sister and I talked and had a nice time without drinking (or really eating since we had lunch at The Cheesecake Factory where about the only item that fits my caloric restrictions and vegetarian standards is a dry side salad). 

 

I don’t get downtown very often so following lunch I decided to pay a visit to the nearby MCA (Museum of Contemporary Art) and see the Jeff Koons exhibit.  When I got there, there was a sort of installation/performance piece called “Peace Salon” taking place out front on the plaza.  It was by Chicago based artist Genevieve Erin O’Brien and she was offering “free buzz cuts for peace.”

 

I picked up the handout that explained it, which I quote here:

 

“Participants who would like to make a commitment to peace are offered a free buzz cut.  By having their heads shaved, the artist believes that the participants are acknowledging their connection to a larger world around them.  In doing so, she believes that they are symbolizing their solidarity with out soldiers at war and honoring their sacrifices in their ongoing commitment to create peace.  Furthermore, my shaving one’s head O’Brien hopes that the individual is released from a physical attachment since she sees attachment—to ideas and things—as the source of war.  By shaving one’s head, the participant is choosing to be one step closer to peace.”

 

I thought this was a pretty interesting idea.  For me, cropped hair is associated not with soldiers but with holy people, monks and nuns.  It also inverts the 60’s notion of long hair as a symbol of rebellion and peace loving. 

 

An interesting idea.

 

And I’ve always been sort of curious about how I’d look with a shaved head.

 

So I decided to give it a go. 

 

I have to admit a big part of my motivation to go through with it comes from the fact that I’m going to visit the parents in Upstate New York on the 14^th.  “How Far Will You Go For Peace”, a sign near the installation asked.  I think I read it as “How far will you go to piss off your parents.”

 

I’m still trying to decide if what I did was very bold or very stupid.  I’ve never had my hair this short before so it’s going to take some getting used to.   If nothing else it'll be interesting to see how it effects my lesbo street cred. 

( more pictures of me with no hair )