Les Yeux sans Visage is one of the best films I've seen in ages, yet it is also almost unbearable to watch, both for its horror and its heartbreak.

I can't say much about it without spoiling things since the fact that you don't quite know what is going on in the beginning is exactly what pulls you in and adds to the overall creepiness.

Actress Edith Scob wears a mask most of the time, but that only adds to the underlying sadness and beauty of the film and her presence (and those eyes of hers) is what gives the movie its only humanity. I have never ever seen anything like Les Yeux nor been so affected by a horror film.

I was so overwhelmed by the film's mood the other night I had to turn the lights back on in my living room and watch some "Golden Girls" episodes before I could go to sleep.

Just some FYI: Billy Idol based the title of his song "Eyes Without A Face" on this movie.

I don't think I truly realized how un-pretty I was until I hit middle school and I started hearing the word "ugly" tossed around. Insulated by the constant comfort that I just didn't really care about being popular or having boys like me I mostly ignored the taunts about my weird hair and the clothes I wore. I tried my best to just read during recess (when I was allowed to) and homeroom and just pretended the world around me did not exist.

I was lucky that my being teased was not 24/7 and only a matter of who was around at the wrong time. Art class was fun, for instance, because I had nice classmates there and at our table we would always talk about Duran Duran or Boy George before the last bell rang. Plus, our teacher was awesome. She encouraged us to be free spirits with our drawing. Of course the very fact that I liked my teachers and did well in school was also part of why I was such an easy target.

It was always the girls who were cruel, not the boys. Sure, some of the boys would say mean things and call me "weirdo" or "brillo pad" or "orphan Annie," but it was the girls who got violent or really knew how to hurt with their words. I remember one girl threatening me for not letting her copy off me during a test. I was afraid and started running down the hall when a small group of the kids who always tried to sneak cigarettes in during lunch stood in front of me and the girl to buzz off. To this day, I have an affinity for smokers.

I am very grateful that I was a teenager in the 80s and not now when social media can mean being bullied long after the school day is over. The worst part about not being pretty and the way people treat you because of that isn't the cruelness experienced in middle school for being different. That pain goes away in time and, in some ways, can make you stronger and more ready for what comes later. 

Sometimes the girl who isn't asked out all school who becomes invisible later on in life. I think I grew into my non-looks so that instead of being picked on I just became a non-entity in the world of love and romance. And, in a way, I'm almost grateful to the teasers for helping me learn early in life that I may always be a wallflower...and that I'm okay with that.

Still, for those who are tormented much worse than I was, the damage is not always slight: 


http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-new-brain/201010/sticks-and-stones-hurtful-words-damage-the-brain

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-new-brain/201010/sticks-and-stones-hurtful-words-damage-the-brain 

Some things to look forward to...

Nylon is for a younger crowd (I'd say 20somethings through early 30s) but the magazine always has great book and music reviews. I've already listened to "I'm Not Falling Asleep" and can't wait to hear the rest of the album when it's released on February 3rd.

Funny Girl by Nick Hornby is getting lots of buzz and is mini-reviewed below as is Miranda July's The First Bad Man.

The lyrics aren't very long, but they get to the point and along with the music reach a sadness that can really pull at your heart:
     

When will I ever be safe from myself
If the danger all lies between heaven and hell?
When I close my eyes, I'm not falling asleep,
I am opening drawers, I am sifting through papers.

Please stay a while, I'm not falling asleep

Though it's well after the holidays, I still enjoyed Joanne Lee's holiday tale a lot. Adorable, plus incredibly sweet and tender, An Unexpected Gift is indeed unexpected in just how nice it is. 

In between the sweet, though, is a lot of sorrow. The main character lost her the love of her life five years ago and has never been the same since. Most of her days are spent being the "queen of mean" while her nights are ones of drinking by herself:

Solitude had not only been her safety net over the past several years; she had also craved it. Sometimes she wondered if working all day and returning all alone to an empty home even consisted of living.

I had no clue something so tiny (it's under 50 pages) could be so huge in delivery. My only complaint would be that I wish it had been longer. Otherwise, this is a lovely treat with wonderful characters and a welcome read, no matter what time of year! :)

Sunday papers, late...

This afternoon I'm reading all the Sunday papers from yesterday that originate from Britain. Some of the more interesting articles follow below. I can really relate to the first one because I'm horrible at multi-tasking and yet I continually do it. There's a part about our impulse control suffering when we try to do too much at once. I also (wish though that I didn't) can relate to that way too well...


Daniel J. Levitin says: "We've created more information in the past few years than in all of human history before us." No wonder we can be so frazzled at times.

This fascinating article looks at just what technology is doing to our brains and how harmful it can be:

http://www.theguardian.com/science/2015/jan/18/modern-world-bad-for-brain-daniel-j-levitin-organized-mind-information-overload


And something on Debra Messing, who talks about meeting Meryl Streep and the ever-present popularity of "Grace":

http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2015/jan/17/debra-messing-this-much-i-know