29 + 1

A certain somebody has said that my blog would gain coolness points if I allowed anonymous comments. So, I am handing over the keys of the asylum to the inmates: you no longer have to be a registered Blogger user to comment on my inanities. Have at it.

Also, for those of you who like snooping into my blog-reading habits, I now keep an automatic, continuously updated list on this site of article links which I recommend. This will hopefully cut into my rather tedious linkyloos, which, let's face it, I only do in order to clear out my brain so that I don't go insane from all the unshared coolness I constantly find in this world. If I'm going to go insane, let's hope it's for a far more entertaining reason. Like, say, demonic possession. I've seen The Exorcist, and you know, I think my life could use a little excitement along those lines. "What's wrong with vomiting a little pea soup here and there?" is what I frequently say to people.

Moving right along, I am now thirty years old. I had hoped I'd magically wake up feeling like an adult, but that has yet to happen. I've started flossing again, actually, but that's more because I'm back in touch with my zany ol' college pal Jimmy, who has now become Dr. James Boynton, adjunct professor of pediatric dentistry at the University of Michigan, and even if a dentist makes a point of NOT telling me to floss, the unspoken guilt trip is still there and I start flossing again anyway. Regarding Jimmy: we're talking about a dentist who, in our freshman year at Michigan, told me that he wanted a dental drill which would hum the theme to "Love Boat," which would make folks that much happier about visiting their dentist (ideally Jimmy). So, if anybody out there has any leads regarding drills which can play "Love Boat," let me know. There's already a Japanese guy who figured out how to make road bumps play music, which might be a potential avenue (hee!) of inquiry.

Other than the flossing and lack of demonic possession, there's not much else to report on The Astrid Frontier currently. I threw a slow-motion party, which I call 'slow motion' because it was more of an open house stretched across a whole day, which was very chill and very cool. And I've had turkey with my mom's homemade stuffing, along with that excellent cranberry sauce which retains the ridges from the can it came in. And I got to see the inside of the Yale Club in Manhattan for the second time in my life, and you know, I still say they don't have nearly enough mounted elk heads on their walls yet. There are a few, but they still have a ways to go, those Yalies.

OH, WAIT A SEC: I made a new website! I've been stricken with the flu for the past few days, which is why I haven't been up to much, but just before the flu hit, and just before I got to see how few elk heads those silly Yale people have in their silly, not-nearly-elk-headed-enough club, I made a website! This is the website I made:

What the doctor saw

I am very proud of this site, but not because of my own work -- really, it's because I'm proud of my dad's work, since my dad is the doctor in question. The site is a showcase of his photography, and even if he weren't my dad, I'd still have to say: he gives a very convincing impression of knowing what he's doing. Go check it out, then e-mail him and tell him how awesome he is. Don't tell him I sent you, or he'll think I bribed you.

Here are some phrases I've been using entirely too often:
loose cannon
madness & mayhem
29 + 1

Here is a word I haven't used often enough:
blurgh

What I consider an elegant centerpiece idea:
A ring of blue Jell-O, with gummy fish suspended within it

Who else agrees with me about the Jell-O centerpiece idea:
Jimmy

My current favorite literary heroine, second only to Jane Eyre:
Dagny Taggart (from Atlas Shrugged, which I'm currently reading)

Here is what I don't get about Atlas Shrugged:
Why is everybody always kissing each other so violently? Once or twice, okay, but every time? Weirdos.

Something which just popped into my head:
What if you had a wall which was jammed full of mounted elk heads? I mean, to the point where you couldn't even see the wall any more, so it's just a solid mass of elk heads staring at you? And what if each of those heads suddenly burst into song, doing a full choir rendition of "I Feel Pretty" from the film West Side Story?

Welcome to my brain, everyone. The information desk is temporarily closed, the cafeteria downstairs is currently serving an excellent pea soup, and don't forget to visit the gift shop at the main entrance. Tipping the coat check guy is optional, but always appreciated.

HD Camera Smackdown!

I e-mailed a friend of mine that I'm going to the HD Expo's Sony F23/Band Pro camera demo tomorrow night, and he snapped. He started ranting and raving about how the F23 is obsolete before it's even been released, that it's a "cheap Genesis knockoff," not even good enough to lick the boots of the Panavision Genesis (or the Arri D-20 for that matter), yadda yadda yadda. I sent back my counter argument, and then figured, hey, somebody else might want to see this, too, in case they're on the fence about the latest HD-shooting fanciness out there. My e-mail to my friend is reproduced below (except for the personal bits); please tell me if I have any of the info wrong/outdated, and I'll adjust things accordingly.

_____


To address your F23 rant, though: I don't think the debate is quite so cut-and-dried. The Genesis actually uses a big chunk of Sony imaging technology, so rather than the F23 being a 'cheap Genesis knockoff,' it's more like a different branch from the same tree. And although the Genesis does have an impressively-sized chip, it still (as far as I know) translates into the same ho-hum 1080 resolution. Mainly, it was developed to be usable with Panavision lenses, which is definitely terrific, but I don't think this makes the Genesis an inherently superior camera to all others. Most others, yes, but not all. Now, if it could use Cooke S4s, I might change my tune....

As for the D-20, it would be mind-bendingly magnificent, outstripping all others (even the Genesis), except for one teensy problem -- all the good stuff is only available in 'data' mode, which is still unavailable! I mean, come ON! Nice idea, but I'll reserve my confetti and party hat for next year, when the data mode will presumably be fully operational and the D-20 can show us its full range. Until then, pbthfthfthft. And that's the technical term, I believe.

For my money, it's the the Dalsa Origin which currently kicks the most ass -- depending on how you capture, it has what I like to call 'hyper HD' resolution, plus it uses 16-bit instead of everybody else's 12-bit approach, so it has a latitude of about 12 stops. W00t!

I suspect the RED camera is a whole lotta hype, but I'll hold my judgment until it's fully rolled out (with all accessories, widely available etc.) tested by lots of people and reviewed accordingly.

As for the F23, it has full 4:4:4, and the highest rez is the blah de blah 1080 (snore), but get this: it has 14-bit capture, which definitely makes me curious about its latitude. I fully intend to badger the Band Pro folks on this, as well as about lenses/depth of field/variable frame rate (I'm not so hopeful about that last one), we'll see what happens.

In case you haven't seen this, I strongly recommend the downloadable chart at http://www.hdcompare.com/Cameras.htm. It doesn't mention the D-20's belated 'upgrade' next year, but it's otherwise pretty impressively comprehensive.

. . . .

Geekily yours,
Astrid

_____


Ladies and gentlemen, the smackdown has commenced. If you'd like the join the fray, e-mail/comment away!

tales from the drafts folder

It's a curious thing, going through my e-mail drafts folder; it's like going through a time capsule of things I meant to act upon, things never finished, or perhaps things finished later and yet the older versions remained undeleted. All very curious. Here are some gems I unearthed today:

Dec 12, 2005, to a gal in Chicago
P.S. I love going to museums by myself! I like to think it makes me seem mysterious. Next time you go, break out some serious eyeliner (artfully smudged), pile your hair up and wear something asymmetrical. As you gaze at various works, strike artful poses and look doleful. This never fails to secretly cheer me up, and it sometimes gets the attention of various indie boys who may be hanging around....

May 18, 2006, from overheardinnewyork.com
How About Gefilte Fish and a Halogen
Guy #1: So what should we get him for his birthday?
Guy #2: I don't know....what about a menorah?
Guy #1: What? But it's not Hannukah.
Guy #2: Yeah, but he's Jewish. And his room is dark.
--Union Square

May 19, 2006, from overheardinnewyork.com
Say Cheese, Chucky
Mom taking photos of son: Smile, sweetie.
[click click]
Mom: Smile from within, honey.
[click click]
Mom: Smiling from within means smile like you're happy on the inside.
[click click]
Mom: Okay, not that much.
--Prospect Park

July 12, 2007
Yung Joc featuring Gorilla Zoe - Coffee Shop
I like hip hop like I like my humans: brash, silly, self-aware, smart, and tons of style to spare.

Sesame Street -- How Crayons Are Made
A commenter on YouTube called the music "synth-baroque," and I agree. Synth-baroque = awesome, and this is one of my all-time favorite Sesame Street shorts.

JESUS FCK I'M IN THE L.A. TIMES

http://www.calendarlive.com/movies/cl-et-sceniacusc25oct25,0,6098343.story?coll=cl-movies

I was never officially interviewed, so this was a tad unexpected.

a sense of purpose

So, I haven't been updating, because I was too busy having a life. More specifically, my parents were in town, which was a lot of fun, and I just got back from dropping them off at the airport. My parents are always very adamant about taking early flights, much to my great annoyance. But I love my family, so I do it anyway, whining all the way so that they know how much I care and am willing to sacrifice for them.

Also: it's amazing to me that other people are awake at such an ungodly hour on a Saturday. When I pulled into my garage, you know what I saw? A guy sticking mountain bikes into his car! At 6:30 on a Saturday morning! What on earth would possess a person to do such a thing?

And there was another guy, further up the sidewalk, who was walking his dog. This I understand rather better—there's no arguing with your dog at 6:30 in the morning. Still, this is why, when people ask me if I'm a cat person or a dog person, I generally say "Neither, I am a turtle person." And it is the truth. Because, you see, a turtle would never wake you up at 6:30 in the morning, imploring you (using drool if necessary) to take them outside for pooping purposes. Also, turtles have more personality than most people give them credit for, I'm not violently allergic to them, and they don't mind if you paint their shells with nail polish when you're bored.

And I just have to say, for the record, that I am thrilled beyond belief that I could start off my Saturday morning with the phrase "pooping purposes." I feel this has earned me the right to go back to bed for a bit. Good morning.

happenings

Wow, busy day -- saw several people, the movie "Elizabeth: the Golden Age" (worth seeing, but not worth going to see), the inside of an automatic car wash, and the inside of IKEA for exactly 18 minutes because of some emergency furniture shopping. Phew.

I also had my first-ever root beer float, and (random but true, I swear) I saw some pineapple upside-down cake today at a cafe I hadn't visited in months.

And very shortly, I'll be hanging out with my family, who's coming into town for the week. Should be groovy. Even if it means putting together two red Stefan chairs tomorrow afternoon, sigh.

Also: am I the only one who stupidly got my car washed earlier today, only to have the activity rendered pointless by the rain tonight? Grr, argh, gnashing of teeth, blah blah. Damn, I'm even too tired to properly gnash my teeth. Talk amongst yourselves, 'kay? 'Kay.

Good night. Smooches.

my short story -- better than Madonna's

I read a couple of Madonna's picture books yesterday, and you know what? I'm not a giant fan, to put it mildly. I find them sentimental, and, worse still, they even leave out crucial plot points here and there. Drives me batty.

The way I figure it, I can write a better story than Madonna, no problem. Here goes my first-ever attempt, which came to me as I was drifting asleep yesterday—let me know what you think:

Once Upon a Time, by Astrid Phillips

Once upon a time, there was a Once upon a Time. Once looked like an orange crow, but he couldn't fly very well; Time looked like a lavender rhinoceros with gold lightning bolts on her sides, and she could fly marvelously. Once sat comfortably upon Time as they traveled, because it would have been ridiculously uncomfortable the other way around. Time's job was simply to keep moving, or else humanity would freeze in place and nothing would ever get done. Once's job was to make Time pause every so often to savor a rare moment of human greatness. They were very good friends, always moving magically and invisibly throughout the world so quickly by human standards that, if we could see them, it would have looked like they were everywhere at the same time, which of course they weren't; time doesn't move the same way for Time and Once the way it seems to move for us.

No one paid them to do their jobs—Once and Time just really enjoyed doing what they did, drinking in the view and helping the world go 'round. They'd had these jobs for as long as they could remember, and neither one could ever imagine doing anything else. This all worked out more or less okay, but after a while Once had to lodge a complaint with Time.

"Hey," Once asked as Time crawled through an accountancy class in Nebraska, "why do you always rush through the good stuff, and dawdle through the boring stuff? Here we are, crawling through an accountancy class in Nebraska, when we could be tearing like the wind through this, and dawdling instead through an exciting birthday party on a yacht off the shores of Costa Rica, with dancing girls and fireworks and pineapple upside-down cake and everything. What's the big idea?"

Time sighed quietly; she didn't want to wake up the accounting students who were napping in the back. "Oh, Once," she said, "you're always about The Big Moment, the pivot of someone's life, the extravaganza which will never be repeated. What's wrong with savoring the dull moments which fill up the the rest of people's lives, making them more human with every second? I don't know about you, but I get tired of being magical, sometimes; it's the ordinary which fascinates me, since I will never be ordinary myself."

Once sighed back. "I'm so bored, I could stab my eyes out with a fork, if only I had opposable thumbs. I don't even know why I bothered coming here with you."

Time giggled. "It's my girlish charm," she said. "That, and I promised you a root beer float later." Which was true; they paused humanity every so often to enjoy root beer floats at their magical neighborhood diner, which was owned and run by magical triplets named Past, Present and Future. Past remembered the best recipes, Present was a speedy cook who had things ready just as you showed up, and Future always knew when you'd show up and warned Present accordingly. Future was also supposed to be in charge of cleaning up the kitchen, which was actually a terrible idea, since Future was always saying he'd do it later. This made Present a little crabby, since he'd end up cleaning the kitchen himself while Future made millions in the human stock market from his laptop. Past was always too distracted with reminiscing about recipes to pay attention to any of this.

Time and Once breezed into the diner after their class and sat at the best booth, which was in the back, in a shaft of golden sunlight no matter what time of day or night it happened to be. Before their bottoms even hit the benches, Present set their root beer floats down on the table. Once's had a sparkler in it.

"Future said you'd want a little cheering up," Present explained. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's just Time. She always lingers with the boring stuff, and rushes me through my once-in-a-lifetime events, so I never really get to enjoy my work," Once groused, taking a spoonful of ice cream from his float. "Hey, this really hits the spot. Thanks for the sparkler."

"Sure thing," said Present. "So, Time, why not cut Once some slack and dawdle at more parties? Hang out longer at amazing concerts. Maybe linger more around people when they're falling in love, give them more time together. Live in the now, y'know?"

Time sipped her root beer delicately through her straw, then paused to answer. "As I told Once, being magical gets predictable after a while, while ordinariness fascinates me since I'll never be ordinary. And besides, it's the long, draggy parts of life which make everyone appreciate the magical moments more when they happen. It's all about contrast, right?" She went back to sipping.

"What a bunch of baloney!" Once retorted.

"Ooh, I like baloney," said Past, sitting behind the counter with a notepad and a pen, looking dreamy. "Grandma made the best casserole with it, back when we were kids—"

"Never mind," said Time. "Look, Once and I could swap places for a day and Learn A Lesson. Or maybe Once could get his day in the sun, so to speak, and I could become more indulgent forevermore. Hey, maybe we could take over the diner, and send Past, Present and Future out to do our former jobs to Reveal Something Deep about the Universe. Point is, all of these things have happened, are happening, and will happen, only in other dimensions. So why bother our heads about the version of the story we're living right now? Our current system seems to work, and carries with it some poetic aspects."

Once gaped at Time.

"Whoa," he said. "Now my brain hurts. How do you know about this other stuff?"

"I accidentally received a letter in the mail for the wrong Time," Time shrugged. "Very odd. I hadn't realized our postal service also serves other dimensions, but so it goes."

"Gosh," said Once, plumping up his feathers and looking pleased. "I didn't know there were other versions of me running around, having crazy adventures. Well, crazier than mine. If only I could meet my other me versions sometime."

Future poked his head out of the kitchen. "Maybe someday all of our dimensional versions will figure out how to get our paths to cross at a big ol' picnic. Wouldn't that be great?"

Past looked up from his notepad, confused. "Don't you already know whether it'll happen or not?"

"I hate ruining surprises," Future winked.

Present perked up. "Hey, let's have a picnic right now!"

And so they all went to a gorgeous park and picnicked, with Once and Time taking the rest of their root beer floats to go. Afterwards, when Past, Present, and Future went home, Time and Once went on the swings—gently, to go easy on their full stomachs—and watched the sun set. Just to be nice, Time lingered.

"Thanks, Time," Once sighed. "You're really the best pal anyone could have."

"Nobody else has ever told me that," Time answered sadly. She looked at Once and smiled. "Thanks."

"Anytime," said Once. "Except I guess not just any Time. Aw, you know what I mean."

Time knew exactly what Once meant. It was moments like this that Once made truly memorable.

The sunset was spectacular.