Catchup

Didn't realize that you all have been starved of my entertainment for so long. Here's the rundown on life and maybe I'll throw something funny in here at the end.

Made it home to San Framanisisco from Camarillo (385 miles) on a single tank of gas. We took one potty break in between Paso Robles and King City after looking for a gas station for 20 minutes, we couldn't take it and pulled off out among a bunch of farms and a million butterflies (that have decorated our car with lovely yellow smatterings acroos the hood). The needle was past empty but the gas light didn't turn on until we pulled into our parking spot. Sweetness.

The more I learn about dentistry, the less I want to specialize after dental school. This adds a complication to moving home. After looking around I found out that a healthy proportion of dentists is 1 to 2000 people. Camarillo's is about 1 to 1250, while Ventura, Oxnard, Thousand

 Oaks are all 1:2000 or better. Go figure. Dentists must know a good place to live when they see one. Santa Barbara is a little worse than Camarillo, and most of the island of Oahu is about the same.

I feel a strong urge to rewatch one of my favorite movies: The Fountain. It's slow, very artistic, and confusing to watch, but the more I watch it, the more beautiful it becomes. Most of the visual effects were made with microphotography and not CGI, the parallelism between the 3 intertwining timelines/stories of the movie is a lot of fun to pick out. Like how the Conquistador walking through the dark courtroom surrounded by sporadic candles is very much the same as the zen-spaceman flying through space surrounded by the passing stars. Sometimes the parallels are obvious, sometimes really subtle but intentionally there. I think it's safe to assume that the tree/plant in all three stories is the same but with different effects (the fabled fountain of youth, a substance that cures cancer, or the lifesource for the zen-spaceman) with the tiny hairs of the tree responding to touch the same way that the woman's skin/hair/goosebumps responds to her husband's touch. And that the Mayan Xibalba theme of death and rebirth/eternal life runs through all three stories. The ending is a bit confusing but reminds me of the ending of Big Fish when the son tries to tell a story about his dad and it's not as good but it works because the son finally got the idea. It's a lot of fun to watch to pick out all these things. (For ratings sake of the curious, its PG-13 for a few intense scenes: Spanish Inquisitors torturing victims, a passionate make-out scene, and a scary little bit near the end that would spoil a bit of the movie if I told you but it involves some good screaming, also the Mayan scenes are violently graphic to a PG-13 level). I might just have to purchase the movie so I can watch it anytime I want.

The movie preview for "Where the Wild Things Are" makes me excited. It looks like a cool movie, it's directed by Spike Jonze, and the trailer features one of the coolest Arcade Fire songs (which is one of the coolest songs ever). Obviously there are others out there besides myself that have excellent taste. In fact every time I mention how cool the trailer is, the cooler it gets. 

My new son Leif (yes, that's pronounced Layf, the correct pronunciation) is growing fast. He's a hefty kid, but not rolly-polly, just big. He grunts constantly (we had a 10 minute conversation last night involving only types of grunts), attacks his food with viscious furosity, and is always moving his hands until he's asleep. His Y chromosome manifests itself well. 

For something funny, check out this picture someone found during the presidential race, remember Rick-rolling? Yes, you just got rick-rolled.