July Film Journal

The Age of Innocence (Martin Scorsese, 1993)
Madame Bovary (Rodney Bennett, 1975)
Downfall (Oliver Hirschbiegel, 2004)
Capote (Bennett Miller, 2005)
My Voyage to Italy (Martin Scorsese, 1999)
Grave of the Fireflies (Isao Takahata, 1988)
Match Point (Woody Allen, 2005)
Tabu: A Story of the South Seas (F.W. Murnau, 1931)
L'Avventura (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1960)
Germany, Year Zero (Roberto Rossellini, 1948)
Crimes and Misdemeanors (Woody Allen, 1989)
High and Low (Akira Kurosawa, 1963)
Hawaii, Oslo (Erik Poppe, 2004)
The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (Joseph L. Mankiewicz, 1947)
Red Beard (Akira Kurosawa, 1965)

Office Space

Whew! I'm emerging for a breather after some especially stressful and busy days at work so I can share part of a corporate e-mail about my workplace (etpetra, you'll appreciate this). You see, whenever a new building opens on the grounds, somebody in Administration gets a bee in her bonnet about the office environment. So everyone here gets a message like this:

While we all appreciate working in such a creative environment, we ask that you follow a few guidelines so that we may maintain a professional office atmosphere that is complementary to the facility and sensitive to all.

If you are in an office, we ask that you not hang any personal artwork. We will soon be providing a selection of art from which you may choose for your office. If you have a personal piece that you feel strongly about, please ask Faith to stop by to discuss it.

Glass panels in offices and work stations are designed to allow light to permeate the entire floor, and they are not designed to be covered or to peer into.

If you are in a work station, please do not cover the glass panels.

Please do not hang anything from the ceiling, doorway, windows, or glass panels, e.g. curtains, mobiles, blinds.

Please don't add rugs or doormats to your personal area.

OK, I was holding my breath to see what they'd say about cubicle walls, since I am not high enough on the totem pole to have my own office. And thank God I'm not in the new building, where cube walls are partially made of glass panels, which now, apparently, cannot be covered (because, you know, it really would be a shame to block the overhead fluorescent lighting). I mean, it's like prison: You and your cube neighbor could turn toward each other, put your hands on the glass, and have a telephone conversation. No wait—I guess you couldn't do that because it would violate the no-peering rule. Huh. They are killing all the fun.

So...nothing was said about cube walls. Mine are decorated quite nicely, and I don't plan on taking anything down unless they make me. If it comes to it, I guess I could call Faith and talk to her about why I feel strongly about all of my Alabama Theater postcards; my various Orson Welles pictures; my vintage travel poster calendar (so very ironic, considering my previous blog post); the lovely Robert Doisneau photo Kiss by the Hôtel De Ville; my printout of Matt Goening's awesome ”How to Be a Clever Film Critic” comic, which always makes me laugh; my nephew's glittery work of abstract art; various photos; or my much-loved 16 Horsepower sticker.

But I'm appalled that I can't hang a mobile from the ceiling. What is this world coming to?

Vacation Facts and Stats

This is the time of year when I start wanting to go on vacation, though that never seems to happen. Let's break this down.

Number of years I've worked where I do now: 5 1/2

Number of vacation days I get this year, since I've reached my five-year anniversary: 22

Number of vacation days I've used so far this year: 1

Number of years it's been since I've been on a vacation (i.e. taking a trip, as opposed to just taking time off): More than I'd care to admit

Overall traveling experience: Quite low

Regret over that fact: Somewhat high

Farthest away from home I've ever been (/Sam Gamgee voice): The Bahamas

What I would love to do on a vacation: Pick a city and thoroughly explore it, hitting all of the spots the locals know and love and taking in as many museums as I can.

What I actually end up doing when I take vacation time now: Not much. What usually happens is that I take two or three weeks off before Christmas. Use it or lose it, you know, and there's no way I'd lose it.

What I did on my last (kinda-sorta) vacation: Took a one-day birthday trip to New Orleans so a friend and I could go to a concert. Became very ill and almost fainted in front of the bar. Had a bartender offer to get roadies to carry me out to my car. Impressed bystanders by emerging from the concert hall carrying a HUGE chunk of ice on my head. (Actually, that probably impressed no one. This was New Orleans, after all. And no, I had not been doing anything even remotely untoward.)

What I did on my last vacation (that didn't involve visiting family members and that lasted more than one day): Woke up with a sore throat. Experienced my first flight. Witnessed the most gorgeous sunrise ever while high up in the clouds. Developed a fever by the time I boarded the ship. Went to some rather uninteresting islands where the only activities were shopping and gambling. Took cold medicine. Ate some food that was terrific, in spite of the fact that I probably couldn't taste much. Discovered cruising really isn't my thing.

What I did on my last family-related vacation: Stayed with my sister and brother-in-law for a month. Had an absolute blast. Slept on a cot the whole time but would do it again in a minute. Happily, there's no need to now, since we live in the same city.

The vacation plan I find myself dreaming about more and more lately, even though I'd previously put the idea to bed: Attending the Toronto International Film Festival

The film festival I'm much more likely to actually attend: The Sidewalk Moving Picture Festival. I have no excuse because it's in my city. I'm very much looking forward to the annoucement of this year's lineup. Last year's was pretty good and included Mutual Appreciation (with Bujalski attending) and Cavite, to name just a couple.