Cleolinda everywhere

More about my mental health, because I know you find it so very fascinating--I did quit caffeine two or three weeks ago, and cold turkey, too. In the up-and-down flux of medication adjustment, I didn't really notice any particular withdrawal, because I was too busy feeling crappy in general. So I had that going for me. The problem is, I have been stricken with a deep, abiding, psychological craving for the Dew ever since. It's not about the caffeine--it's about going downstairs at eleven in the morning and getting my little twelve-ounce bottle of yellow-green citrus happy. We needs it, precious. And the entire reason I quit was weight loss--Sister Girl had kicked soda a while back, and reported that after she'd been off it a solid month, the pounds really started to drop. In fact, we had all noticed that she had lost a good bit of weight, in a healthy way--weight she had gained mostly in a self-medicating snack-food funk over Asshole Ex-Boyfriend.  So I thought, you know, I don't want to mess with my meds and try a new one and go on an actual diet, but quitting caffeine might be a good idea before I mess around with the rest of my brain chemistry, and really, it might be nice to have a few pounds drop off while I'm at it. I'm not expecting a huge difference, but I figured, you know, that might be a nice bonus while I'm going through a crappy adjustment period. Not to mention that messing with my dosages has alternately made me want to eat nothing and eat everything. I'm just saying, I figured it couldn't hurt.

Yeah. It's three weeks later, and I am still in the throes of this Proustian longing for my secret carbonated lovah. No, I don't want to replace it, thanks for asking. I don't want to drink a diet soda (which won't work anyway--where's the link for that study that says that the body doesn't recognize diet soda as "diet"?), a caffeine-free soda, or any other impostor you want to sell me. If it's not Mountain Dew--full stop--it's just colored water, people. I just want to remember all the hours we spent together, the Dew and I, writing the book parodies and pulling desperate all-nighters for class and running through sunlit fields together. I personally think it's no coincidence that "madeleine" and "Mountain Dew" have the same number of syllables.

(By the way--when did we stop calling it Remembrance of Things Past and switch to In Search of Lost Time? I mean, I understand that it's a better translation, but I missed that newsletter, apparently.)

Speaking of Proust, Little Miss Sunshine was so good. There are so many little things that are just so right--of course Uncle Frank is a Proust scholar. Of course Olive's song is both deeply inappropriate--appropriately inappropriate, if you will--and still manages to feature a message of acceptance in the chorus (I'm trying to be non-spoilery here). And the acting is uniformly good and real--you never feel like anyone's grandstanding for the audience, even though there are plenty of big emotional outbursts. The thing I ended up liking about it the most, though, was what amounted to a scathing critique of child pageants. The sad thing is, we all know they're kind of terrible; the JonBenet thing was ten years ago, and yet here it is right back in the news again right as this movie comes out, and all the movie has to do is put a normal little girl onstage next to these preening little sexified horrors and it knows that it doesn't even have to say anything else. Well, it says one more thing, which is that Olive's "shocking" dance is only the next logical step forward from those coy little ass-shaking, pedo-baiting routines.

Also, Steve Carell runs exactly like Tom Cruise. With the flat robot hands and everything. Priceless.

(I'm not saying it's a lock or anything, but I wouldn't be surprised if someone came out of this movie with a supporting nomination of some kind. Everyone's talking about the movie; everyone--at the moment--loves it. My best guess is that it might be Alan Arkin, who plays a... unique character, let's say, and might find himself on the receiving end of a Let's Honor the Old-Timer campaign; or it might be Steve Carell, who plays just absolute raw despair in a very quiet but unmissable way, which in and of itself wouldn't be that extraordinary, except that my God, it's Steve Carell. Who knew he could pull out a performance like that?)

Anyway. Good times. Also, we heard at the concession counter that the Vestavia Rave will be getting The Illusionist "next week," which is to say, Friday--the nationwide release date.

Also, I just got an email newsletter from Lane Bryant: "V is for Versatility." Yeah, but if it doesn't come with matching daggers, I don't want to hear about it.

Linky-linky:

Harlan Ellison did whaaaaat? I mean, yes, I have heard the stories--including the "What would you say to a little fuck" story--but Harlan Ellison did whaaaaaaaaaaat?

Interesting things you find on flickr: "Cameras rolling on the second day of shooting in Redcar of the Working Title film Atonement, based on the Ian McEwan novel of the same name." And here I just clicked on it because the photo was gorgeous. In fact, there seems to be an entire pool for photos taken on the set of this one movie.

Heh. I'd forgotten ABC was going to do this: "Airing opposite the Emmys, a 7-10 p.m. offering of Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl on ABC siphoned off an estimated 9.3 million viewers. The telecast, far from the run-of-the-mill rerun typically made available as award-show fodder, was seen as ABC's revenge for its top shows--Lost, Grey's Anatomy, Desperate Housewives--being shut out of the glamour categories."

A new Antonia Fraser book, whee! 

"Challenged" books drop to all-time low, yay!

The full story on the "Emily" billboards and blog.

Shit. I really am going to have to buy the new LOTR DVDs, aren't I?

And, finally, the new Halloween and LE blends are up at BPAL. I want the Dracula blends so bad. All of them. Even the ones I know won't work on me at all. Shit. (What? I have a Dracula thing. Like, specifically the book, not just an emo vampire fetish or something.) Seriously, that job I applied for better come through soon. Although, ironically? The university is a scent-free working environment. Yeah, I'll be over here with Mr. Bemis shaking my fist at the sky--call it "Money Enough at Last."