Taxi Driver

So I watched Taxi Driver the other night and I loved the documentary which came along with the DVD. I had been warned that Taxi Driver was a disgustingly violent movie. The documentary talked about how the ratings board made Scorsese de-saturate the shooting scene. For the 1970’s it was violent but you can see much worse on cable TV today. Robocop was a lot bloodier. I have to admit that I can see Scorsese’s point about the last scene but it really makes more sense to me to use my husband’s interpretation. We know that the movie is a descent into madness with an ending which has a socio-political message about violence in society. But what if Travis did die in Iris’s apartment and the final scene is not reality but a dream sequence in which everything Travis did caused things to work out for the best of all possibilities. It would do more to support the descent into madness than looking at it as a “Travis is okay and he’s famous and it all turned out wonderful and he saved Iris.” The movie makes more sense to me anyway if the scenes after the climatic overhead shot are just a dream in Travis’s head.

A trip to the dentist

I hate the new dental anesthesia procedures. I feel like someone has hit me in the jaw and I'm popping both Tylenol and Ibuprofen (yes, not a good combination but the Ibuprofen takes down the swelling and the pain killer in the Tylenol means I can actually talk now. The most fun was that he only got 3 minutes of working time before it wore off. He actually did the last 5 seconds of drilling with me screaming since the ligamajet had worn off and he'd already given me the maximum combined dose he felt safe doing. He put down in the notes that Lidocaine seems to still be the best option. He tried the ligamajet on DS too but switched to Lidocaine halfway through the procedure. And as further proof that DS is my spawn, the Lidocaine had worn off on him before we left the dentist office. Dentists hate me and my kids. I've warned DD that having kids will be interesting for her since she has my ability to metabolize drugs and the anesthesiologist’s hate me. Luckily, all my kids have an extremely high pain tolerance.

Back to School

I’ve been so busy with my own school, moving my daughter up to college and the transitions at work that shopping has been the last thing on my mind. My boys didn’t bring it up and then last night as we’re getting everything ready, it hits me that I haven’t even thought about back to school clothes. My wonderful husband tells me don’t worry, they both have clean shirts and jeans that fit (although calling the pair that the 13 year old is wearing a pair that fits is cutting it close, Mississippi in Katrina wasn’t as high and I do believe this will be the second time he’s worn them. Too bad the little one isn’t the same shape so that they could be passed down.) I figure we’ll take care of school shopping after we get the supplies that they’ll need. I have class on Tuesday and Thursday so maybe this weekend.
So, does it make me a horrible mother if I didn’t get around to buying my boys new clothes for the first day of school?

First night at college....

Tonight is my daughter’s first night in her new dorm room. Tonight there are 3 of the six each in a separate room. She has rice, fettuccine, alfredo sauce, and soy. Two of her violins are with her and one of her roommates wants violin lessons. Yes, the cheerleader is a blonde and my girl is the shortest in the room so far. My girl is so easy going, it seems like everything rolls off her back. I hope she’s ready for roommates. This is the true test of whether or not I’ve done my job right as a parent. Is she ready for this adventure? Is she capable of standing on her own? Balancing her checkbook? Staying on a budget? Is she strong enough to not let others manipulate her and smart enough to see when they are doing it? If not, she’ll learn and she’ll grow.

A word that you own...

In marketing class, we are supposed to describe ourselves with a word that we own. In my communications introduction, I used the word ebullient. However, if you google “Shondratasha,” it is page 4 before I hit the spammers who link to my blog (and just how am I connected to Tony's Sex vidio? is a vidio anything like a video?). All the others are me. So, it’s definite, I own the word Shondratasha – or Stasha for short.

Saturday my daughter moves up to college...

My daughter just got an email from one of her new roommates. Reading through the email, I have visions of “What is this feeling?” from Wicked.

A lifetip from my coach...

"When we settle for less in order to feel safe, we always feel sorry. If we compromise our dreams, limiting ourselves with negative ideas gleaned in childhood or adulthood; if we accept that it's useless to ask for what we want and need; if we believe lack is safer than abundance, our lives will close around us like a safe but suffocating blanket.

We do need security but security can be purcahsed at too high a price. Security obtained at the expense of exhilerating, creative growth and change merely strangles us.

Surely the caterpillar feels secure in the cocoon but when it emerges, it needs to unfold its wings and risk flight."

Connie Sokol

I needed this today. Three more weeks and I'll have a different boss at work while my current boss takes off for 2 years.

The more they stay the same...

Why is it that even though everyone is prepared, no one raises their hand in class? Even if they know the answer people are afraid to raise their hands. The sad part is that grading is based on participation so if you don’t participate, you don’t get graded. Still I wonder if I’m talking too much. I saw so much of this in junior high school, in high school, college, and now in graduate school. Is it the fear of looking foolish? Being afraid of being wrong? Worried what people will think?
Long ago, I figured out that I would learn more if I talked with the teacher. I probably didn’t have time after class so the best time to talk is during class, either by asking questions or answering questions in the best manner possible. When learning through cases, participating in class matters but people still worry about looking foolish as much as they did in Junior High.