I gave my long-dreaded presentation on "Humor in Jane Austen" at the Jane Austen Society of North America (or JASNA) Tea yesterday afternoon, and it went over far better than I had cause to hope. There's a branch here in Nashville; about 2 dozen ladies who get together quarterly for a presentation on some JA-related subject and a whopping big tea party.
We sit around and stuff our faces with shortbread and cake and drink really GOOD tea, and talk about the latest Jane Austen movie or miniseries, and "has anyone heard of a new version of P&P or S&S," etc., and one brave soul makes a presentation to the group. Very nice way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
Well, in my never-ending Quest for Attention, when they asked me about 6 months ago if I would do a presentation on Humor in Jane Austen, I said yes, and then regretted it for weeks on end. I'm just so lazy, you see. I don't like being required to do homework, although I'm certainly confident in addressing a group, or talking about stuff I know well.
So I folded my open acknowledgement of my vanity and laziness into the presentation, which I think helped a lot since my scholarship was very foggy - I shamelessly plagiarized from Wikipedia and other on-line papers and sites, which I have no real compunction about since I will never allow it to be published or made available to the general public... my words have melted into the Ether. Here's the introductory bits that I am most proud of:
When I was first asked if I would be willing to take on the subject of “Humor in Jane Austen” as a presentation, in my weaker moments I would think things like “why don’t you just ask me to do a presentation on ‘Nouns in Jane Austen,’ or ‘Use of the letter W in Jane Austen’? In other words, it seems an almost impossibly huge task, much like being asked to index the Old Testament. And I am an exceptionally lazy person, which makes it even more difficult to contemplate.
I should mention that it has been a habit for me that if I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep, I will think about Jane Austen stories, because I find it very soothing and far-removed from the worries of my life. But since developing this presentation has become one of my worries, that doesn’t exactly work right now!
So I started dabbling in research, and there’s a lot of it about, to say the least. There are books about books about Jane Austen’s humor, and all the permutations thereof – sarcasm, irony, wit, satire, vocabulary, feminism, juvenilia, the joke of substitution, the comic negative, etc. etc. etc. But one of the main difficulties of discussing comedy in a scholarly manner is analyzing just how exactly a phrase, a sentence, or joke actually IS funny – it’s taking a very subjective, individualized style of expression, and attempting to confine it to a comprehensible definition, and I find it unbelievably boring. If you explain how something is comedic, it usually drains the funny out of it.
So I won’t exactly do that myself; I’ve decided to jump around and talk about the things in Austen that make me laugh, in no particular order, with just a few definitions and examples so it’s not a complete waste. In the slightly modified words of Jane Austen, “you deserve a [better presentation] than this, but it is my unhappy fate seldom to treat people so well as they deserve.” Or, in the more slightly mangled words of Lady Catherine, “There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of [humor] than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever [bothered to prepare a proper presentation], I should have been a great proficient.”
Monday, May 01, 2006
Friday, April 28, 2006
OK, Is It Just Me, Or...
OK, I have been at a contract job for almost 2 hours now; I was scheduled to meet with one of the programmers this morning (general time). I let him know around 11:15 that I was here and ready to work. He emailed me files around 11:30, and said he'd be down. At 12:15, I went up, stood in the doorway, and said, "Whenever you're ready...?" which he acknowledged. It is now 12:43, and still no sign of Blow-Off Programmer.
Is it me, or is it not clear enough that I'm here and ready to work? I could tell my Bro-in-law, who is in charge here, but I don't want to be a snitch, and he'll be mad and yell at the BOP, who will then resent me. But it's almost 2 hours WASTED that I could have been working elsewhere!
Is it me, or is it not clear enough that I'm here and ready to work? I could tell my Bro-in-law, who is in charge here, but I don't want to be a snitch, and he'll be mad and yell at the BOP, who will then resent me. But it's almost 2 hours WASTED that I could have been working elsewhere!
Thursday, April 27, 2006
What Are You?
http://www.theadvocates.org/quiz.html
Interesting little 10-question quiz that pinpoints your political leanings with reasonable accuracy. Apparently I'm a centrist, but I pretty much knew that already...
Interesting little 10-question quiz that pinpoints your political leanings with reasonable accuracy. Apparently I'm a centrist, but I pretty much knew that already...
Monday, April 24, 2006
My angel babies
Easter, 2006. Aren't you jealous? Despite the bash on the noggin my little strawberry got 2 days before...
Friday, April 21, 2006
Chernobyl
Really interesting - saw on slashdot.com that the area around Chernobyl is becoming a nature preserve - the animals are thriving! Take a look. Apparently that line from Jurassic Park about how life or nature "finds a way" is truer than we knew!
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
The Dangers of Novel-Reading
I'm having a dismal morning - absolutely nothing going wrong, all ducks in a row, all is dandy... but I feel lousy! I can't tell if I'm ill, depressed, or stressed. Could be all three. I should be absolutely delighted - I have three jobs lined up for this afternoon, and yet I feel tired and just... off. Soured.
I'm inclined to blame it on novel-reading. It's funny, I could never understand why when novels first became part of popular culture in the 18th century, novel-reading was considered unwise, especially for young women. The romantic, gothic-influenced fiction of the time was pretty innocuous if you ask me, but it apparently had a demoralizing effect. All these young ladies who had been reasonably well-behaved and obedient to parental direction and arranged marriages started rebelling, I suppose. When you read about a heroine being swept off her feet and rescued from dire peril by a handsome, dangerous nobleman, it does tend to make you a trifle dissatisfied with a marriage proposal from the balding local cleric or sitting around mending torn hems.
When I was younger, I read novels incessantly. And I was miserable. At the time, I thought it was because of my home life and hating school and loneliness. But when I stopped reading 7-10 books a week after college and started watching more TV, and having more of a social life and getting a job, I became much happier. I thought it was just because of improved circumstances. In addition, I lost interest in novels because it became more difficult to find stories I really liked. I did discover audiobooks and have been checking them out pretty steadily for the last 7-10 years, but the majority of them have been nonfiction; biographies, history, memoir, travel.
Well, recently I re-discovered a novelist that I had once thought rather tepid when I was younger named Georgette Heyer. Jane Austen will always be on the top of my novel list, but for books of a similar nature in a similar style, Georgette Heyer is as good as it gets. Plus, she wrote about 33 of them, so you can re-read them on a regular schedule and it will take years before you have to repeat one. Well, as I mentioned a month or so back, I gave up almost all TV for Lent and so I had to find something to fill the time, and so Georgette Heyer came to my rescue.
Or so I thought. There's a negative kickback to romance fiction; It makes you dissatisfied with your life. It makes you long for an unrealistic relationship. And if it's historical, it makes you pine for the clothes and the lifestyle and the idealized vision of how life used to be for a woman, where you could be weaker and not be despised for it. I forgot how I used to feel about previous eras - that I used to think I would be so much better off in the 18th century.
I know better now, of course - I appreciate the independence and the advantages of modern life. But the sense of dissatisfaction that has grown in me over the last few weeks is going to take a while to dispel. And my goal to collect all of Georgette Heyer's novels... well, I think I'll let that go for now.
I'm inclined to blame it on novel-reading. It's funny, I could never understand why when novels first became part of popular culture in the 18th century, novel-reading was considered unwise, especially for young women. The romantic, gothic-influenced fiction of the time was pretty innocuous if you ask me, but it apparently had a demoralizing effect. All these young ladies who had been reasonably well-behaved and obedient to parental direction and arranged marriages started rebelling, I suppose. When you read about a heroine being swept off her feet and rescued from dire peril by a handsome, dangerous nobleman, it does tend to make you a trifle dissatisfied with a marriage proposal from the balding local cleric or sitting around mending torn hems.
When I was younger, I read novels incessantly. And I was miserable. At the time, I thought it was because of my home life and hating school and loneliness. But when I stopped reading 7-10 books a week after college and started watching more TV, and having more of a social life and getting a job, I became much happier. I thought it was just because of improved circumstances. In addition, I lost interest in novels because it became more difficult to find stories I really liked. I did discover audiobooks and have been checking them out pretty steadily for the last 7-10 years, but the majority of them have been nonfiction; biographies, history, memoir, travel.
Well, recently I re-discovered a novelist that I had once thought rather tepid when I was younger named Georgette Heyer. Jane Austen will always be on the top of my novel list, but for books of a similar nature in a similar style, Georgette Heyer is as good as it gets. Plus, she wrote about 33 of them, so you can re-read them on a regular schedule and it will take years before you have to repeat one. Well, as I mentioned a month or so back, I gave up almost all TV for Lent and so I had to find something to fill the time, and so Georgette Heyer came to my rescue.
Or so I thought. There's a negative kickback to romance fiction; It makes you dissatisfied with your life. It makes you long for an unrealistic relationship. And if it's historical, it makes you pine for the clothes and the lifestyle and the idealized vision of how life used to be for a woman, where you could be weaker and not be despised for it. I forgot how I used to feel about previous eras - that I used to think I would be so much better off in the 18th century.
I know better now, of course - I appreciate the independence and the advantages of modern life. But the sense of dissatisfaction that has grown in me over the last few weeks is going to take a while to dispel. And my goal to collect all of Georgette Heyer's novels... well, I think I'll let that go for now.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
A very interesting story...
I have such an interesting story to tell!
While reading one of my favorite websites, a reference was made to something called "The Oak Island Money Pit". In a nutshell, this is an island near Colchester, Nova Scotia, where back in the late 18th century some boys found a man-made shaft, and started digging. Since there are various layers of oak trees and man-made materials, it's been believed that a treasure is underneath, and there have been many attempts over the years to try and dig down to it - bits of gold and parchment have been recovered in later digs with exploratory bores, which has only fueled the interest in the site. However, it's an amazing feat of engineering, as they have discovered that the pit has booby traps at various levels, and there are shafts that flood the main pit whenever they get down to a certain level. Various attempts to excavate have been given up after wasting tons of money. They've made more progress every time, but whenever they think they're about to finally get something, the pit floods!
All of this is very interesting, but what caught my eye was the fact that when the 3 boys who found the site came back to do a serious dig 9 years later, their partner was a man named Simeon Lynds - of course the last name caught my eye, as well as the fact that this was in Nova Scotia. This man IS my cousin - I checked the main Lynds genealogy website for connections, and he is the brother of my great-great-great-great grandfather, John Bunker Lynds! Also, in a later dig, his brother David replaced him as a partner.
The Oak Island website is really well done - has all the stories of the various digs and what they've found, as well as a page full of various theories as to who buried the treasure in the first place, and how. Those who have read "The DaVinci Code" or seen the movie "National Treasure" and have heard the various stories about Masons, the Knights Templar, etc., will find various references to them in to some of the more romantic theories for the pit. There are even claims that part of the gold taken from the temple in Jerusalem when it was sacked by Rome in 70 AD has ended up there.
It's a really interesting website to read, and quite entertaining!
While reading one of my favorite websites, a reference was made to something called "The Oak Island Money Pit". In a nutshell, this is an island near Colchester, Nova Scotia, where back in the late 18th century some boys found a man-made shaft, and started digging. Since there are various layers of oak trees and man-made materials, it's been believed that a treasure is underneath, and there have been many attempts over the years to try and dig down to it - bits of gold and parchment have been recovered in later digs with exploratory bores, which has only fueled the interest in the site. However, it's an amazing feat of engineering, as they have discovered that the pit has booby traps at various levels, and there are shafts that flood the main pit whenever they get down to a certain level. Various attempts to excavate have been given up after wasting tons of money. They've made more progress every time, but whenever they think they're about to finally get something, the pit floods!
All of this is very interesting, but what caught my eye was the fact that when the 3 boys who found the site came back to do a serious dig 9 years later, their partner was a man named Simeon Lynds - of course the last name caught my eye, as well as the fact that this was in Nova Scotia. This man IS my cousin - I checked the main Lynds genealogy website for connections, and he is the brother of my great-great-great-great grandfather, John Bunker Lynds! Also, in a later dig, his brother David replaced him as a partner.
The Oak Island website is really well done - has all the stories of the various digs and what they've found, as well as a page full of various theories as to who buried the treasure in the first place, and how. Those who have read "The DaVinci Code" or seen the movie "National Treasure" and have heard the various stories about Masons, the Knights Templar, etc., will find various references to them in to some of the more romantic theories for the pit. There are even claims that part of the gold taken from the temple in Jerusalem when it was sacked by Rome in 70 AD has ended up there.
It's a really interesting website to read, and quite entertaining!
Thursday, April 06, 2006
In Which I Am Quarantined
I have strep throat, which I haven't had for almost THREE DECADES. The reason I know exactly how long it's been, is that it was a particularly memorable period in my childhood. [Oh goody! a story, a story!]
When I was in third grade, I came down with strep throat... then again... then again... at which point, I lost count. Back in the 70s, the routine was this: You get a sore throat, they take a swab to test it for strep bacteria, the following day they let you know if you have it, you go back and get a penicillin shot. You then are quarantined for 3 days, and 2 weeks later you go back for another swab to make sure it's gone. Well, it never did go away! The symptoms disappeared after the first round, but every fortnight the tests said I still had it.
It really became quite dreadful, and I mean it - Full of Dread. I was in my most needle-phobic stage at that point, and so when I would go for a swab, the next day I would be more and more scared as the day progressed until lunchtime was over, when my class would line up at the door to leave, and when the door opened, my mom would be there to take me back to the doctor for another shot.
I missed a LOT of school that year; my mom would sometimes leave me with a neighbor since she was doing something [hmm, that's a puzzler - she wasn't working, so why did she need a sitter? odd...] and I would play with their kids' toys and neglect the homework I was supposed to be doing. They even swabbed everyone in the family, to see if my parents or sisters were strep carriers... which they weren't.
After 4-5 rounds of this, one day after a swab I came out of the lunchroom, and my mom wasn't there waiting. I was almost giddy with relief! I could barely wait to get off the bus after school, and I raced into my mom's room where she was sewing and said "I'm not sick!" to which she replied "actually, you still are," and explained that she had persuaded them to give me oral penicillin instead since I so dreaded the shots, and that I would have to take it for several days. Fine by me! We pretty much just let it drop at that point - I never did go back for another test, since the symptoms had long since disappeared, and we never did figure out why the disease had continued to show up.
I haven't had any kind of sore throat except for allergy-related sinus drainage since that time, and I had become rather smug that my childhood experience with strep had built up UBER-immunities. So when I woke up Monday morning with a sore throat, I went "oh darn - allergy-time!" and proceeded to treat that. But by Wednesday, my throat had gotten much worse, and I realized that my allergy hadn't progressed like usual, so I went in for a swab that afternoon. It was funny - my nurse must have apologied 3 or 4 times that the swab was going to make me gag (which it did), and when I asked her what the treatment was nowadays, she said penicillin pills for 10 days, I just laughed and said swab away - I could think of MUCH more uncomfortable things than a gag reflex!
So I am isolated at home for the next 48 hours, which is quite a nuisance, since I've probably already exposed several dozen people to it, what with working on people's computer keyboards and attending social events, etc. AND, that means 2 precious days I could be working, and can't. Plus my TV watching is curtailed for Lent, so no consolation there!
April 18: I didn't mention that I suspected that I caught it from my sister's family; some of them had it a few weeks back. Well, now almost all of them have it again (4 kids and my sister) so I will probably be catching it again in about 2 weeks. *sigh*
When I was in third grade, I came down with strep throat... then again... then again... at which point, I lost count. Back in the 70s, the routine was this: You get a sore throat, they take a swab to test it for strep bacteria, the following day they let you know if you have it, you go back and get a penicillin shot. You then are quarantined for 3 days, and 2 weeks later you go back for another swab to make sure it's gone. Well, it never did go away! The symptoms disappeared after the first round, but every fortnight the tests said I still had it.
It really became quite dreadful, and I mean it - Full of Dread. I was in my most needle-phobic stage at that point, and so when I would go for a swab, the next day I would be more and more scared as the day progressed until lunchtime was over, when my class would line up at the door to leave, and when the door opened, my mom would be there to take me back to the doctor for another shot.
I missed a LOT of school that year; my mom would sometimes leave me with a neighbor since she was doing something [hmm, that's a puzzler - she wasn't working, so why did she need a sitter? odd...] and I would play with their kids' toys and neglect the homework I was supposed to be doing. They even swabbed everyone in the family, to see if my parents or sisters were strep carriers... which they weren't.
After 4-5 rounds of this, one day after a swab I came out of the lunchroom, and my mom wasn't there waiting. I was almost giddy with relief! I could barely wait to get off the bus after school, and I raced into my mom's room where she was sewing and said "I'm not sick!" to which she replied "actually, you still are," and explained that she had persuaded them to give me oral penicillin instead since I so dreaded the shots, and that I would have to take it for several days. Fine by me! We pretty much just let it drop at that point - I never did go back for another test, since the symptoms had long since disappeared, and we never did figure out why the disease had continued to show up.
I haven't had any kind of sore throat except for allergy-related sinus drainage since that time, and I had become rather smug that my childhood experience with strep had built up UBER-immunities. So when I woke up Monday morning with a sore throat, I went "oh darn - allergy-time!" and proceeded to treat that. But by Wednesday, my throat had gotten much worse, and I realized that my allergy hadn't progressed like usual, so I went in for a swab that afternoon. It was funny - my nurse must have apologied 3 or 4 times that the swab was going to make me gag (which it did), and when I asked her what the treatment was nowadays, she said penicillin pills for 10 days, I just laughed and said swab away - I could think of MUCH more uncomfortable things than a gag reflex!
So I am isolated at home for the next 48 hours, which is quite a nuisance, since I've probably already exposed several dozen people to it, what with working on people's computer keyboards and attending social events, etc. AND, that means 2 precious days I could be working, and can't. Plus my TV watching is curtailed for Lent, so no consolation there!
April 18: I didn't mention that I suspected that I caught it from my sister's family; some of them had it a few weeks back. Well, now almost all of them have it again (4 kids and my sister) so I will probably be catching it again in about 2 weeks. *sigh*
Ice, not Water!
Well, I'm sure this makes them feel so much better to have explained away one of Jesus' miracles - wonder what BS they'll come up with for Feeding the 5000?
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
I Love Lileks
Sometimes I'm a little "ehhh" about his entries - coming up with something interesting EVERY weekday is impossible, of course - but then there are ones like today's where he shreds King Kong that are irresistible. Take a look.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Friday, March 31, 2006
O, Thou Elusive Cookbook!
Still remains elusive - I'm watching 17 different ones on eBay, but they are wildly popular and keep passing out of my price range. I bid on a few and was instantly outbid by someone with a deeper pocket. Checked alibris.com, which was depressingly vague and unhelpful, even though their website is very fancy-schmancy. Four days left!
Later... Friend Rindy tells me that she found one for $717.75. *ding*ding*ding* We have a winner!
Later... Friend Rindy tells me that she found one for $717.75. *ding*ding*ding* We have a winner!
Thursday, March 30, 2006
More cookbook
It's been quite interesting - I sent the last post to about 100 or so friends & family to see if anyone knew of the aforementioned cookbook, and I've gotten about 2 dozen replies, I think - people who had it as a child, or have it now, but it's a) too battered or b) indispensible. Almost as if they were bragging - "I have one, but you can't have it!" It's nice when you realize that an oft-used, practical item still has a shelf value, isn't it? Doesn't help ME, now, does it?
Called the 2 main used bookstores here in town - Bookman Bookwoman (no idea WHAT that name is supposed to connote; that they actually *gasp* allow both men & women to shop there? Or, that they're segregated? It was originally just Bookman, I believe, but I think the owner took on a female partner, or there was a protest at the gender-exclusive name and this was the result. I'm inclined to suspect the latter, because the shop is in Hillsboro Village, which is Cool and Liberal Central for Nashville, and That Sort of Thing wouldn't be allowed there. But I deliberately digress...) and Elder's Bookstore on Elliston Place which is a City Treasure since it's been there since the 50s and is family owned. (It's interesting that the very idea of family descendants running the same shop/restaurant for over 20 years makes something a Treasure. I mean, the place could have nothing but copies of Hardy Boys mysteries and crappy remaindered books, and we'd still be inclined to think it's a Treasured Emporium just because it isn't a chain or franchise. But I casually digress again...)
Elder's is searching and will call me back, and Bookman/woman didn't have it. The Bookwoman I talked to felt it necessary to describe the similar Betty Crocker cookbooks she had on hand, despite the fact that I had clearly identified the year and appearance of the book - maybe my memory was a bit hazy? Despite the fact that I have become an disinterested expert on the various incarnations of BC cookbooks from the latter half of the 20th century and could describe the features, publication dates, and cover of the one I want in impressive bibliophilic detail. Even though I could personally care less about which one it is, never having used any of them.
But that's true of me in general. I have a quite respectable range of cookbooks atop the fridge that are used or consulted a few times a year; I mistakenly thought in high school and college that I was interested in cooking and started to collect them, only to find a decade later that I could care less, and the internet has loads more recipies than I could ever need. So, the one cookbook that I use with any regularity is my blank one - one of those 3-ring binder types with blank pages and pockets that you can store accumulated recipes; the majority of which seem to be for cookies. Yet I shall never let go of the unused ones - cause they're BOOKS, and Might Be Useful Someday.
Called the 2 main used bookstores here in town - Bookman Bookwoman (no idea WHAT that name is supposed to connote; that they actually *gasp* allow both men & women to shop there? Or, that they're segregated? It was originally just Bookman, I believe, but I think the owner took on a female partner, or there was a protest at the gender-exclusive name and this was the result. I'm inclined to suspect the latter, because the shop is in Hillsboro Village, which is Cool and Liberal Central for Nashville, and That Sort of Thing wouldn't be allowed there. But I deliberately digress...) and Elder's Bookstore on Elliston Place which is a City Treasure since it's been there since the 50s and is family owned. (It's interesting that the very idea of family descendants running the same shop/restaurant for over 20 years makes something a Treasure. I mean, the place could have nothing but copies of Hardy Boys mysteries and crappy remaindered books, and we'd still be inclined to think it's a Treasured Emporium just because it isn't a chain or franchise. But I casually digress again...)
Elder's is searching and will call me back, and Bookman/woman didn't have it. The Bookwoman I talked to felt it necessary to describe the similar Betty Crocker cookbooks she had on hand, despite the fact that I had clearly identified the year and appearance of the book - maybe my memory was a bit hazy? Despite the fact that I have become an disinterested expert on the various incarnations of BC cookbooks from the latter half of the 20th century and could describe the features, publication dates, and cover of the one I want in impressive bibliophilic detail. Even though I could personally care less about which one it is, never having used any of them.
But that's true of me in general. I have a quite respectable range of cookbooks atop the fridge that are used or consulted a few times a year; I mistakenly thought in high school and college that I was interested in cooking and started to collect them, only to find a decade later that I could care less, and the internet has loads more recipies than I could ever need. So, the one cookbook that I use with any regularity is my blank one - one of those 3-ring binder types with blank pages and pockets that you can store accumulated recipes; the majority of which seem to be for cookies. Yet I shall never let go of the unused ones - cause they're BOOKS, and Might Be Useful Someday.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
In search of a cookbook
So my friend Mindy's birthday party is on Tuesday, and the ONE THING I know she wants, and I can't seem to get, is the 1969 Betty Crocker "red pie" Cookbook, reprinted about every year through the 70s. They're certainly out there, and I've found lots on eBay... but they're EXPENSIVE! They sell between $25-50 on average, depending on the condition of the book. They are very much in demand, and are considered to be the best edition ever put out.Mindy got one when she was married in 1972, and has used it until it's falling apart and would like another one. I as good as promised that I would find one for her birthday, and yet I fear the ones on eBay are priced outside of my budget. If anyone, ANYONE, knows where I can get one in usable condition (sturdy enough for regular use for another few decades), please let me know! I'm hoping to find one under $25.
Friday, March 24, 2006
A real page turner
So, I've spent the morning researching products for my friend/client who has MS and can't use her hands. She has a computer with a voice-recognition software, and I suppose compared to most folks with an "input" disability ("input" meaning how she is able to relay commands to the computer) she actually gets by pretty well, considering the mouse and keyboard are useless to her. But we've talked a lot about the limitations of the software, as well as the difficulties of other tasks like simply wanting to read a book. Unless someone is on hand to turn the pages, she's hamstrung.
She asked if I knew of any electronic reading devices; she already reads pdf files of some books on her computer screen, but as she puts it, "I'm tired of watching TV!" She wants to hold a book in her lap like she used to do. The searches that I've done have had pretty dismal results. Sony did just come out with an electronic reader in January, which shows book text on the screen of a moderately-sized (and -priced) tablet. But you have to touch a button to turn the pages, and that's not possible. I dug some more, and found an electronic page turner that manually turns the pages of a book - for over $1000! It at least has the benefit of having a variety of non-touch input devices.
I also found a new voice-recognition software called QPointer Voice that supposedly works better at manipulating the computer interface, but it doesn't take dictation as well as her current product, Dragon NaturallySpeaking. *sigh* Where is American innovation? We thought Viagra was more important?!
She asked if I knew of any electronic reading devices; she already reads pdf files of some books on her computer screen, but as she puts it, "I'm tired of watching TV!" She wants to hold a book in her lap like she used to do. The searches that I've done have had pretty dismal results. Sony did just come out with an electronic reader in January, which shows book text on the screen of a moderately-sized (and -priced) tablet. But you have to touch a button to turn the pages, and that's not possible. I dug some more, and found an electronic page turner that manually turns the pages of a book - for over $1000! It at least has the benefit of having a variety of non-touch input devices.
I also found a new voice-recognition software called QPointer Voice that supposedly works better at manipulating the computer interface, but it doesn't take dictation as well as her current product, Dragon NaturallySpeaking. *sigh* Where is American innovation? We thought Viagra was more important?!
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Of Salt and Paperclips
I have been in an early Friday morning Bible study with a half-dozen women for the last seven years. We have been observing Lent together for a few years now, even though most of them are Presbyterians; we tell each other before Ash Wednesday just what we're giving up, and we help keep each other accountable through the 40 days.
While I know that this is a spiritual discipline/sacrifice, it has inevitably produced some really funny situations. Such as the year I allowed myself to get re-addicted to Diet Coke so that I might give it up for Lent (yes, I know, it's appalling). Or the year we tried a reverse Lent, where we took on an activity instead of giving up something treasured.
This year as we got together for dinner on Mardi Gras and went around the table each telling our chosen sacrifices, one of the ladies rather hesitantly said that she was giving up salt. We all laughed at this, until she explained that it was a chronic addition - she could not eat practically anything without adding lots of salt to it. Her hesitation in telling us was that she feared it wasn't the "right" kind of Lenten sacrifice, and she was rather embarrassed despite our assurances that it was a really good idea even though somewhat unusual.
But the more you think about giving up salt, in some ways it is the quintessential Lenten sacrifice. You're giving up things that make life taste better. And sometimes it's those odd little decisions that make Lent even more meaningful than giving up chocolate or sweets.
Our group got together again for a birthday dinner recently, and as usual talked about how Lent was going. "Saltine" had been struggling, but God had really met her during this time, and every time she found herself reaching instinctively for a salt-shaker, she would mentally reach out to God instead. In addition, her husband had gotten involved. He had never given up anything for Lent before, but when she told him what she was doing, he found himself wondering what he might give up, and the answer was... paperclips.
Apparently, Saltine's husband has the bad habit of chewing on big metal paperclips throughout the day - they are literally EVERYWHERE; in the home, car, office, all easily at hand as though they were cigarettes. Not your garden-variety oral fixation. It had been difficult, to say the least, but he had perservered, and a lady in his office had finally said in amazement "What on earth is up with you? You haven't had a paperclip in your mouth for 5 days!" Saltine is really happy, as she can't stand this habit of his.
While I know that this is a spiritual discipline/sacrifice, it has inevitably produced some really funny situations. Such as the year I allowed myself to get re-addicted to Diet Coke so that I might give it up for Lent (yes, I know, it's appalling). Or the year we tried a reverse Lent, where we took on an activity instead of giving up something treasured.
This year as we got together for dinner on Mardi Gras and went around the table each telling our chosen sacrifices, one of the ladies rather hesitantly said that she was giving up salt. We all laughed at this, until she explained that it was a chronic addition - she could not eat practically anything without adding lots of salt to it. Her hesitation in telling us was that she feared it wasn't the "right" kind of Lenten sacrifice, and she was rather embarrassed despite our assurances that it was a really good idea even though somewhat unusual.
But the more you think about giving up salt, in some ways it is the quintessential Lenten sacrifice. You're giving up things that make life taste better. And sometimes it's those odd little decisions that make Lent even more meaningful than giving up chocolate or sweets.
Our group got together again for a birthday dinner recently, and as usual talked about how Lent was going. "Saltine" had been struggling, but God had really met her during this time, and every time she found herself reaching instinctively for a salt-shaker, she would mentally reach out to God instead. In addition, her husband had gotten involved. He had never given up anything for Lent before, but when she told him what she was doing, he found himself wondering what he might give up, and the answer was... paperclips.
Apparently, Saltine's husband has the bad habit of chewing on big metal paperclips throughout the day - they are literally EVERYWHERE; in the home, car, office, all easily at hand as though they were cigarettes. Not your garden-variety oral fixation. It had been difficult, to say the least, but he had perservered, and a lady in his office had finally said in amazement "What on earth is up with you? You haven't had a paperclip in your mouth for 5 days!" Saltine is really happy, as she can't stand this habit of his.
Monday, March 20, 2006
A Lovely Evening
I had Supper Club last night, and it was one of those really great evenings. It's a chance to get to know other folks from my church, and I initially signed up with no great enthusiasm beyond knowing that I needed to do it; but this particular group is full of such intelligent individuals who can talk about ANYTHING, that we always end up having really good conversations.
This time I was at the Kids' Table; the Happy Young Newlyweds who were hosting, the Single Guy, and myself. We had one of the most intelligent, interesting and far-flung conversations on religion, Nashville, history, work, and travel that I've been a part of in a very long time. I forgot what it was like to be around academics & intellectuals - there's always something interesting to talk about! In the other room with the Grownups there was an occasionally LOUD battle about PostModernism and Generational Tendencies being cheerfully fought.
I don't quite know if this evening was important or not, but it lingers in my mind; it does make me wonder whether or not I've let myself get really sloppy mentally. Everyone is always taking classes or reading books or stretching themselves intellectually; but the group I usually spend Sunday nights with in general doesn't really go down that conversational path, despite the fact the most of them are teachers and intellectuals in their own right. We talk, but it's rarely so rich. It makes me want to try and converse on a higher level with my friends.
This time I was at the Kids' Table; the Happy Young Newlyweds who were hosting, the Single Guy, and myself. We had one of the most intelligent, interesting and far-flung conversations on religion, Nashville, history, work, and travel that I've been a part of in a very long time. I forgot what it was like to be around academics & intellectuals - there's always something interesting to talk about! In the other room with the Grownups there was an occasionally LOUD battle about PostModernism and Generational Tendencies being cheerfully fought.
I don't quite know if this evening was important or not, but it lingers in my mind; it does make me wonder whether or not I've let myself get really sloppy mentally. Everyone is always taking classes or reading books or stretching themselves intellectually; but the group I usually spend Sunday nights with in general doesn't really go down that conversational path, despite the fact the most of them are teachers and intellectuals in their own right. We talk, but it's rarely so rich. It makes me want to try and converse on a higher level with my friends.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Glory Be!
So, as mentioned vaguely in previous posts, I've bin feelin' mighty low...*clunk* (this is a reference to an old Bugs Bunny cartoon, which I THINK starred Pete Puma, but I could be wrong).
Anyway, as a result of depression, I've been feeling sick... and feeling sick worries me no end, so I get more depressed, which makes me sicker... quite the destructive little circle. I am the Queen of Psychosomatic Illnessess, in addition to my title of Grand Duchess of Susania. Anyway, after I started feeling like there was a band tightening around my throat yesterday, I went off the deep end and called for an appointment with my doctor.
I've dreaded going in, because I don't LIKE going to the doctor; but also because I was afraid I would find out that the Probable had become Reality. The Probable being Diabetes. It runs in my father's family, as does hypo-thyroidism, which I also feared. Since I'm overweight and take poor care of my eating and exercise, I've always had it hung over my head like the Sword of Damocles by various older family members, including my mom. Plus, being diagnosed with it would mean my current uninsurability would be even more Uninsurable. If that's possible.
So, went in, cried through my listing of ailments with a nurse, then 2 residents in training, then the doctor, and then was tested for all that stuff. I did certainly feel much better afterwards, having gotten that all out of the way - I mean, I suspected that it was all psychosomatic because it has always been so in the past, but I have to eliminate the possibility of it being real so I can get over it and stop worrying.
So they were supposed to call me tomorrow morning with the results, but in fact, called me before 5 tonight with the news that I was A-OK, right down the middle of Average Textbook Healthy Person. (Apparently, crying at the doctor's can get them to speed up your results.) I am quite Ordinary, which is a pleasant surprise.
Of course, I called Mom in a swivet of Relief and Happy to let her know I wasn't Diabetic nor had a wacked out Thyroid, to which she replied, "Not yet..." as well as "thank goodness," etc. Oh Mom. Way to be happy with me! But I know why she had to say the Not Yet - she wants me to work at changing my lifestyle now, so it won't happen ever; she thinks I will just plunge into a vat of chocolate.
Not likely. This really scared me, over the last month, what with the feeling weak and lightheaded all the time, so I have had very little sugar in the last few weeks, and intend to try and live my life as though I WERE a diabetic, in hopes of reversing the Probable. After 37 years, I finally had enough days of not feeling so good with sugar that I'm less and less inclined to eat it now; the consequences are too fearsome.
Anyway, as a result of depression, I've been feeling sick... and feeling sick worries me no end, so I get more depressed, which makes me sicker... quite the destructive little circle. I am the Queen of Psychosomatic Illnessess, in addition to my title of Grand Duchess of Susania. Anyway, after I started feeling like there was a band tightening around my throat yesterday, I went off the deep end and called for an appointment with my doctor.
I've dreaded going in, because I don't LIKE going to the doctor; but also because I was afraid I would find out that the Probable had become Reality. The Probable being Diabetes. It runs in my father's family, as does hypo-thyroidism, which I also feared. Since I'm overweight and take poor care of my eating and exercise, I've always had it hung over my head like the Sword of Damocles by various older family members, including my mom. Plus, being diagnosed with it would mean my current uninsurability would be even more Uninsurable. If that's possible.
So, went in, cried through my listing of ailments with a nurse, then 2 residents in training, then the doctor, and then was tested for all that stuff. I did certainly feel much better afterwards, having gotten that all out of the way - I mean, I suspected that it was all psychosomatic because it has always been so in the past, but I have to eliminate the possibility of it being real so I can get over it and stop worrying.
So they were supposed to call me tomorrow morning with the results, but in fact, called me before 5 tonight with the news that I was A-OK, right down the middle of Average Textbook Healthy Person. (Apparently, crying at the doctor's can get them to speed up your results.) I am quite Ordinary, which is a pleasant surprise.
Of course, I called Mom in a swivet of Relief and Happy to let her know I wasn't Diabetic nor had a wacked out Thyroid, to which she replied, "Not yet..." as well as "thank goodness," etc. Oh Mom. Way to be happy with me! But I know why she had to say the Not Yet - she wants me to work at changing my lifestyle now, so it won't happen ever; she thinks I will just plunge into a vat of chocolate.
Not likely. This really scared me, over the last month, what with the feeling weak and lightheaded all the time, so I have had very little sugar in the last few weeks, and intend to try and live my life as though I WERE a diabetic, in hopes of reversing the Probable. After 37 years, I finally had enough days of not feeling so good with sugar that I'm less and less inclined to eat it now; the consequences are too fearsome.
Monday, March 13, 2006
Thursday, March 09, 2006
"I'm feelin mighty low..." *clunk*
Sorry guys - in poor spirits at present; not feeling much like writing. Hopefully will be in better mood soon!
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Colbert for president
OK, Last night Stephen Colbert topped himself, while berating a "journalista" who had made an insulting comment about how the Yahoo news division was as likely to win a Pulitzer as "The Colbert Report". Colbert then did the most hilariously timed sarcastic bit, "Ha ha, that's great. Funny stuff. Let me try one: Jon Friedman has about as much of a chance of winning a Peabody as I do. Oh wait? That's right," whipping out his Peabody Award... then his second Peabody... at which point he said, "and where do I put these? BESIDE MY EMMYS!" and slammed 2 Emmy statuettes on the desk. I spontaneously applauded - it was just sublime!
Here's a really good one from the Olympics...
Here's a really good one from the Olympics...
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Furry Fun
My friend Renu sent me this link for the Cheeky Squirrel Name Generator:
My name is Nibbles Crazypaws. Which is terrifyingly accurate, since I'm quite the nibbler - chips at Las Palmas have no chance against me! - and I'm always working on something, be it a computer keyboard, needlework, or crochet.
Enjoy!
My name is Nibbles Crazypaws. Which is terrifyingly accurate, since I'm quite the nibbler - chips at Las Palmas have no chance against me! - and I'm always working on something, be it a computer keyboard, needlework, or crochet.
Enjoy!
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
In Keeping with the Previous Post...
Just watched Stephen Colbert rattle off the ENTIRE Nicene Creed (also known as The Apostles Creed) on his show, while answering the rehetorical question "what do I believe?" but in the most conversationally casual way and at top speed. It takes a few minutes to say the whole thing, but even at top speed it was still rather long, so the laughs from the audience rose and fell as it became more and more drawn out, and by the end they were applauding and cheering because of the whole delivery of the thing... just fantastic.
The Colbert Report has replaced The Daily Show in my affections, and while I'll always love TDS, TCR is more consistently funny to me. I can't recommend it heartily enough - there's a section called "The Word" where an almost anarchic subtitler puts comments in a field based on everything Stephen says, and it's absolutely brilliant satire & wit. Then there's "The Threatdown" where he lists, in reverse order, the top 5 threats to American culture and way of life, and it almost always ends with "Number one... BEARS." It's the consistency of this choice that makes it, 3 months later, even funnier than it was the first time.
Comedy Central, M-Th at 10:30 pm CST, and some repeats through the day. Watch it!
The Colbert Report has replaced The Daily Show in my affections, and while I'll always love TDS, TCR is more consistently funny to me. I can't recommend it heartily enough - there's a section called "The Word" where an almost anarchic subtitler puts comments in a field based on everything Stephen says, and it's absolutely brilliant satire & wit. Then there's "The Threatdown" where he lists, in reverse order, the top 5 threats to American culture and way of life, and it almost always ends with "Number one... BEARS." It's the consistency of this choice that makes it, 3 months later, even funnier than it was the first time.
Comedy Central, M-Th at 10:30 pm CST, and some repeats through the day. Watch it!
Lenten Observance
Well, Lent is nigh... for those not in the habit of observing old-fashioned religious holidays, Lent is the 40 days between Ash Wednesday (that's the day after Mardi Gras) and Easter Sunday, where you're supposed to spend time in prayer and self-sacrifice. Sort of like Ramadan, I suppose.
For the last 6-7 years I've actually been trying to observe lent, but it can be rather hit or miss with me. The idea is to give up something enjoyable, something you really love for that 40 days, as a small gesture towards the enormity of Christ's sacrifice. But I'm usually pretty disappointed with my experience; usually because I DON'T give up something important, but rather something that won't hurt as much, or more easily manageable. I KNOW I'm slacking.
It's usually sweets, or chocolate in particular, or Diet Coke, or fast food... but I feel like I'm taking the easy route. In fact, one year, I got myself re-addicted to Diet Coke SO THAT I MIGHT GIVE IT UP FOR LENT IN THE SPRING! Isn't that awful? And now I'm paying for it, literally; my current habit is 2-3 a day.
Last year I just skipped Lent alltogether; I wasn't getting anything out of it, and everything I could think of to give up was just for my own physical benefit (sweets, so I might lose weight... diet coke, so I might drink more water...). And this year was shaping up the same, with me drearily thinking I'd give up Diet Coke again. Then last week, I again had the thought that has plagued me for years when making this decision: television. This is very drastic. I watch TV constantly. I've never been able to make myself do it. I have TWO TiVos, for heavens' sake!
But this year, everything is different; my life is in upheaval, and I could really benefit from some quiet time and cleaning up my apartment, or working out. For the first time, the thought wasn't as terrifying as it has been in the past. I'm not going cold turkey; I'm letting myself watch TV in the morning before work, and a very short list of shows (Survivor, The Colbert Report, Project Runway...) that are time sensitive and can't wait like other favorites, or that I cannot BEAR to miss for 6 weeks (West Wing).
I actually drew lots to make this decision... I put 5 different choices in a bowl, prayed, and drew one. Then I drew again 2 more times and got the exact same one - "TV with exceptions", so I'm FAIRLY confident this is what I'm supposed to do. I have more confidence in God directing my choice this way than by choosing based on my own insight, since my insight is very cluttered with personal preference and comfort over actually seeking God's will.
For the last 6-7 years I've actually been trying to observe lent, but it can be rather hit or miss with me. The idea is to give up something enjoyable, something you really love for that 40 days, as a small gesture towards the enormity of Christ's sacrifice. But I'm usually pretty disappointed with my experience; usually because I DON'T give up something important, but rather something that won't hurt as much, or more easily manageable. I KNOW I'm slacking.
It's usually sweets, or chocolate in particular, or Diet Coke, or fast food... but I feel like I'm taking the easy route. In fact, one year, I got myself re-addicted to Diet Coke SO THAT I MIGHT GIVE IT UP FOR LENT IN THE SPRING! Isn't that awful? And now I'm paying for it, literally; my current habit is 2-3 a day.
Last year I just skipped Lent alltogether; I wasn't getting anything out of it, and everything I could think of to give up was just for my own physical benefit (sweets, so I might lose weight... diet coke, so I might drink more water...). And this year was shaping up the same, with me drearily thinking I'd give up Diet Coke again. Then last week, I again had the thought that has plagued me for years when making this decision: television. This is very drastic. I watch TV constantly. I've never been able to make myself do it. I have TWO TiVos, for heavens' sake!
But this year, everything is different; my life is in upheaval, and I could really benefit from some quiet time and cleaning up my apartment, or working out. For the first time, the thought wasn't as terrifying as it has been in the past. I'm not going cold turkey; I'm letting myself watch TV in the morning before work, and a very short list of shows (Survivor, The Colbert Report, Project Runway...) that are time sensitive and can't wait like other favorites, or that I cannot BEAR to miss for 6 weeks (West Wing).
I actually drew lots to make this decision... I put 5 different choices in a bowl, prayed, and drew one. Then I drew again 2 more times and got the exact same one - "TV with exceptions", so I'm FAIRLY confident this is what I'm supposed to do. I have more confidence in God directing my choice this way than by choosing based on my own insight, since my insight is very cluttered with personal preference and comfort over actually seeking God's will.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Grieving
I went to a memorial service today at my church for a young couple who just lost a baby at around 18 weeks. She's had a horrific pregnancy; constantly nauseous and frequently hospitalized for dehydration, and so for this to happen after 5 months is just heartbreaking. All that suffering and pain with no baby at the end of it. They already have a daughter so they aren't entirely bereft, but they hurt nonetheless.
Now, this is the part where I acknowledge my own selfishness and self-interest, but I present this anyway because it's not an entirely invalid realization. As we were sitting and listening to an amazing reading, and I looked down from the choir loft, I saw that she was resting her head on his shoulder, and I thought, how lucky she is to have her husband and her little girl, and all of these people are here to share and acknowledge her quite understandable grief...
...but do single, unmarried, childless women ever get the same? I have no husband, I have no children, and my chances of having either are slimmer and more fragile every year... will anyone besides my mom and some women friends ever grieve with me that I have no-one? It'll be the occasional night of weeping, the occasional teary-eyed conversation over lunch, and that will be the end of it as far as anyone is concerned. Their grief will diminish, and they might yet have another baby, but my grief of an unrealized family will never go away.
I may have the advantages of freedom and independence and sufficient sleep over those with spouses and children, and I may really enjoy it most of the time. But I will never be granted the respect and consolation of a memorial service for the death of my hopes and dreams.
Lordy, that's a downer. Go read the funny one under this!
Now, this is the part where I acknowledge my own selfishness and self-interest, but I present this anyway because it's not an entirely invalid realization. As we were sitting and listening to an amazing reading, and I looked down from the choir loft, I saw that she was resting her head on his shoulder, and I thought, how lucky she is to have her husband and her little girl, and all of these people are here to share and acknowledge her quite understandable grief...
...but do single, unmarried, childless women ever get the same? I have no husband, I have no children, and my chances of having either are slimmer and more fragile every year... will anyone besides my mom and some women friends ever grieve with me that I have no-one? It'll be the occasional night of weeping, the occasional teary-eyed conversation over lunch, and that will be the end of it as far as anyone is concerned. Their grief will diminish, and they might yet have another baby, but my grief of an unrealized family will never go away.
I may have the advantages of freedom and independence and sufficient sleep over those with spouses and children, and I may really enjoy it most of the time. But I will never be granted the respect and consolation of a memorial service for the death of my hopes and dreams.
Lordy, that's a downer. Go read the funny one under this!
Gazing Into The Future...
OK so I have, for some years now, written predictions for friends of mine in the performing arts; grand and glorious careers amongst the high and mighty of Hollywood, Broadway, and the literary and musical fields. Because what is a prediction for except to inspire and encourage? And honestly, in this day and age why shouldn't it happen in as miraculous a way as I've forseen?
So my friend DJ lost out on an amazing opportunity due to red tape, and I wrote this "career path" for him:
"I can see it now... the 2008 Tony Awards... You're nominated for a Best Actor Award... You win, and go up and give the best acceptance speech EVER, and Mel Brooks hears it, and goes, "That kid is PERFECT for my next show!" which would have been all lame and stuff because, let's face it, he hasn't had anything really fresh or funny since the days of Blazing Saddles; but you add so much to the role that the critics actually go mad about it, and the studios decide to make a movie version, which, unlike the Producers, is actually GOOD, so you're up for a Golden Globe in Best Actor in a Musical or Comedy, which you win, of course, and you give another fantastic acceptance speech, and then Kevin Smith begs you to make his next picture, to which you say, OK, because you've realized that one of your gifts as a performer is to revitalize the careers of formerly great writer/director/producers, and instead of making a comedy, it's a historic drama on the scale of Reds because you have so completely inspired Smith that he decides to go in a completely different direction, and that of course leads to an Oscar. And then you go on Oprah!"
You should read the one where my friend Rachel ends up "turning" the irresistable Brit Rupert Everett from his current orientation, and having a half-dozen kids with him. It's a corker!
So my friend DJ lost out on an amazing opportunity due to red tape, and I wrote this "career path" for him:
"I can see it now... the 2008 Tony Awards... You're nominated for a Best Actor Award... You win, and go up and give the best acceptance speech EVER, and Mel Brooks hears it, and goes, "That kid is PERFECT for my next show!" which would have been all lame and stuff because, let's face it, he hasn't had anything really fresh or funny since the days of Blazing Saddles; but you add so much to the role that the critics actually go mad about it, and the studios decide to make a movie version, which, unlike the Producers, is actually GOOD, so you're up for a Golden Globe in Best Actor in a Musical or Comedy, which you win, of course, and you give another fantastic acceptance speech, and then Kevin Smith begs you to make his next picture, to which you say, OK, because you've realized that one of your gifts as a performer is to revitalize the careers of formerly great writer/director/producers, and instead of making a comedy, it's a historic drama on the scale of Reds because you have so completely inspired Smith that he decides to go in a completely different direction, and that of course leads to an Oscar. And then you go on Oprah!"
You should read the one where my friend Rachel ends up "turning" the irresistable Brit Rupert Everett from his current orientation, and having a half-dozen kids with him. It's a corker!
Friday, February 24, 2006
Race... Run... Dash...
to this blog! Her comments on the Olympics are Hi-Larious. And I must say, I thought of most of these things myself as well; I was just BUSIER than her and failed to note them down.
http://www.martiniministry.com/
Then, when you'd like to cry in a really good way for a little while (or see if you have the willpower to resist it at work) go see the CNN sports clip about the slightly autistic high school student who was allowed to play in the last 4 minutes of his team's basketball game... [trickling movements with fingers down cheeks] Niagara Falls...
J-mac's Hoop Dreams Come True
http://www.martiniministry.com/
Then, when you'd like to cry in a really good way for a little while (or see if you have the willpower to resist it at work) go see the CNN sports clip about the slightly autistic high school student who was allowed to play in the last 4 minutes of his team's basketball game... [trickling movements with fingers down cheeks] Niagara Falls...
J-mac's Hoop Dreams Come True
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
I Loves Me Some Drama!
So I've rehashed this with any number of friends & family, but I am alternately disappointed and delighted with the Olympics this year. I finally solidified what I find so appealing about watching them - it's the stories. Have they suffered to get there? Do they have a dying family member? Are they emotional when they win? Do they weep on the podium? Do they fall spectacularly and then rise to fight on?
There's been a lack of really good surprise stories this time, and yet there have been some; but I find myself watching for long stretches, working on a scarf or hat, and finally thinking "gosh, I'm so bored with this!"
There's been a lack of really good surprise stories this time, and yet there have been some; but I find myself watching for long stretches, working on a scarf or hat, and finally thinking "gosh, I'm so bored with this!"
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Olympic Fun
"And last night was good, too, even though no one fell." -- Anne-Marie
Yeah, good times! Lotsa fun to be had if you're inclined to make fun of arrogance and misfortune... Man, watching the Italian Ice Dancing pair fume at each other... very satisfying!
And Lindsay Jacobellis - poor girl, I really do feel for her; all of the snowboard guys had done the same trick grab if they were way out ahead; she just happened to be the one unfortunate soul to miss when she tried. Youthful high spirits will forever be condemned in her as arrogance, and I just don't buy it. That clip will be rolled out with wearying predictability for the rest of her life, and she'll always have that label. Whereas Bode Miller's mistakes will just be dismissed as typical rogue jock.
And they should have advised her to do damage control - you MUST be honest immediately in those situations - she obviously never saw Ashley Simpson on SNL! Had she fessed up immediately and wept with frustration, she'd have been forgiven immediately. Instead she tried to brazen it out and no-one bought it for an instant. Young and stupid... of course, immediately after watching that, I went out to my car in the snow and ice to run to the bank (Sat morning) and promptly locked my keys in my car when I got back out with the scraper... so who am I to judge?
Yeah, good times! Lotsa fun to be had if you're inclined to make fun of arrogance and misfortune... Man, watching the Italian Ice Dancing pair fume at each other... very satisfying!
And Lindsay Jacobellis - poor girl, I really do feel for her; all of the snowboard guys had done the same trick grab if they were way out ahead; she just happened to be the one unfortunate soul to miss when she tried. Youthful high spirits will forever be condemned in her as arrogance, and I just don't buy it. That clip will be rolled out with wearying predictability for the rest of her life, and she'll always have that label. Whereas Bode Miller's mistakes will just be dismissed as typical rogue jock.
And they should have advised her to do damage control - you MUST be honest immediately in those situations - she obviously never saw Ashley Simpson on SNL! Had she fessed up immediately and wept with frustration, she'd have been forgiven immediately. Instead she tried to brazen it out and no-one bought it for an instant. Young and stupid... of course, immediately after watching that, I went out to my car in the snow and ice to run to the bank (Sat morning) and promptly locked my keys in my car when I got back out with the scraper... so who am I to judge?
OK, this is fortuitous... not one week after creating this blog, I am introduced to the fun that is NationStates.net. You can create your own country, pick political systems, a flag, a motto, a currency... So, The Grand Duchy of Susania lives there too, although I was forced to call it the Grand Duchy of New Susania cause someone had already taken Susania. very upsetting.
My niece Emma
I KNOW as an aunt that I'm not supposed to play favorites, but it is impossible not to at times. I do love all of my nieces and nephews (as has been well documented in a half-dozen adoring Christmas letters) but ever since Emma Jane, the youngest was born almost 3 years ago, she has fascinated me. She looks amazingly like her mother as a little girl, and has the same fearlessness and stubbornness. Granted, she hasn't managed to pull a chest of drawers on top of herself & break her collarbone yet as did Mommy, but she's fallen off of a variety of furniture and I am sure will manage to break something in the next year or so.
She reminds me of Sally Brown, Charlie Brown's little sister. Same big round head (a family trait), and blond hair that is swirly in the front and swoops up on the sides. Uncanny.
She is simultaneously the girliest girl I've ever seen, and the most rambunctous tomboy. I bought her a little plastic tiara as a consolation gift when taking her and Henry to buy his birthday present, and she could. not. get. over. it. Just loved it. She has a variety of princess dresses for playing dress-up, a couple of pairs of net wings, and has recently discovered the Disney canon of princess movies; Cinderella is her obsession. Plus her Disney princesses nightgown.
She is NEVER indifferent. She is so completely committed to the task at hand, that if my mom or I come in and she's occupied, we get no more than a blank glance. On the other hand, if she is at leisure, she will fling herself at you for hugs, and then show you every single one of her pastel stuffed animals, purses, or movies.
We went sledding on Saturday with the 2-inch snow we were begrudgingly granted, and I was amazed at how she would so willingly be placed in a saucer and shoved down a hill, usually backwards. If she spilled, she could have cared less, and often hopped up with a "yahoo!" which she learned from her brothers. Then she would haul her tiny self back up the hill to go down again, over and over. I really could see her as a snowboarder or an X-Games enthusiast 15 years down the road... I find her so simultaneously cuddly and fierce.
The other night I was babysitting for her, and after what was a perfectly peaceful evening, she was infuriated to find that she would have to go to bed (unusual for her, as she has always been the easiest to put to bed). I picked her up, kicking and screaming and carried her forcibly upstairs, where she proceeded to carry out a 15+ minute temper tantrum. When offered pacifying objects, she would shriek with fury and throw them from her. I sat in the rocker and played a little computerized Yahtzee game until she subsided enough to be offered a "way out" of her tantrum without wounding her pride. But there was no way I was going to give in to such behavior - as I have often said, I will NOT have my babies turn into brats.
Sure, temper tantrums are common enough in children, but what amazed me was the sheer longevity of it. Her will to perservere is phenomenal in one so small; and if denied something, she will not easily be distracted from her purpose, if at all. She's quite prepared to scream as long as it takes, and the fact that tantrums have not ever actually worked hasn't sunk in yet, so we just sit back and marvel at her strength.
I invented a song for her a few years back to a melody that I can't place; I think it's a little Mozart snippet. She really loves it, and so I have started making up lyrics to any bedtime instrumental music on the CD player in her room; usually with recurring themes of Emma Jane/time to sleep/mommy and daddy/close your eyes.
I am a baby princess
Adored by my family
I am a baby princess
As pretty of a princess as you'll see.
I have a mom and daddy
Of big brothers I have three
I am the baby princess
When I grow up I'm going to be the queen.
Funny AND Handsome!
Just recently remembered how much I loved Gary Gulman on Last Comic Standing last year... I've had the John Heffron cd for a while now, but never got the one for Gary. Well, now you can! Yes, you can buy it on his website, and even cheaper if you do it as an mp3 download.
The man has genius insight on cookies! Plus, I can't recollect any vulgarity...
The man has genius insight on cookies! Plus, I can't recollect any vulgarity...
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Jealousy is an ugly thing...
and boy, sometimes I sho do have it. My biotch friend Rachel is a better writer than me (which means, she's a FUNNIER writer than me) and I read her website, and lo, I am jealous.
But my jealousy doesn't override my admiration of the quality therein, and telling other people about it. Go take a look! Enjoy! Just bear in mind that 1) I'm the one who introduced her to Bollywood, and 2) also cuteoverload.com.
But my jealousy doesn't override my admiration of the quality therein, and telling other people about it. Go take a look! Enjoy! Just bear in mind that 1) I'm the one who introduced her to Bollywood, and 2) also cuteoverload.com.
Friday, February 17, 2006
...So he says
So Mark says (names changed to protect the indolent) that he has a new chat abbreviation - instead of LOL (laughing out loud), he uses LOTI (laughing on the inside). Please use freely.
My Little Tater
Right now I am chatting on MSN Messenger with my niece Taylor, formerly known as Tater, and it's really cute... she's only 7, and so her typing skills are somewhat labored; it take 2-5 minutes for her to type a sentence and so I have lots of time to do other things (like post to my blog) while she pecks out her responses. She's really liking Science at present, which is excellent. I think she'll make an exceptional zoologist someday, if her current passions persist.
OH, and she was a lobster in the school program last night. I'm getting the details right now...
OH, and she was a lobster in the school program last night. I'm getting the details right now...
Thursday, February 16, 2006
How true, how true
Went to lunch with my Mom today and ended up crying through most of it, much to my dismay... As we do on occasion, the Weight Issue was brought up by her for discussion, and I kept trying to explain that my decision of the moment NOT to really try very hard to lose weight was one based on an intimate understanding of my personality, and hence the futility of such an effort. I've failed to make any permanent effect on my appearance despite trying since I was 12, and unless I am really inspired by a particular method of diet & exercise, I make no real progress... and if I do, it only lasts a year or so. So why should I kill myself on a constant course of failure?
I'm not saying I won't make ANY effort; but I know how much of a committment it will take to have any real effect and it's JUST. NOT. GOING. TO. HAPPEN. I eat salads, and cut down on sugar and yeast, and exercise occasionally... but that's just bare maintenance, not enough to make any difference in my appearance. Believe me, I have no desire to develop diabetes, which is what has been hung over my head since my early twenties; but it will take a famine and having to walk everywhere to make a sufficient change in my lifestyle, and I don't see that happening, do you?
Elder Sister is on the latest variation of Diet she's been pursuing for the last 5-10 years, and is making amazing progress... and I TRULY am happy for her... but barring a miracle, she'll put it all back on someday. We always do. We are genetically pre-disposed on our father's side to look like German Farmwives from our mid-twenties onward. Younger Sister got more of my mother's genetic code so she looks great; but she's no Skinny Minnie either.
Is accepting a Fact as Reality the equivalent of Hopelessness? My Mom seems to think so. I call it Acceptance, she calls it Hopelessness.
I'm not saying I won't make ANY effort; but I know how much of a committment it will take to have any real effect and it's JUST. NOT. GOING. TO. HAPPEN. I eat salads, and cut down on sugar and yeast, and exercise occasionally... but that's just bare maintenance, not enough to make any difference in my appearance. Believe me, I have no desire to develop diabetes, which is what has been hung over my head since my early twenties; but it will take a famine and having to walk everywhere to make a sufficient change in my lifestyle, and I don't see that happening, do you?
Elder Sister is on the latest variation of Diet she's been pursuing for the last 5-10 years, and is making amazing progress... and I TRULY am happy for her... but barring a miracle, she'll put it all back on someday. We always do. We are genetically pre-disposed on our father's side to look like German Farmwives from our mid-twenties onward. Younger Sister got more of my mother's genetic code so she looks great; but she's no Skinny Minnie either.
Is accepting a Fact as Reality the equivalent of Hopelessness? My Mom seems to think so. I call it Acceptance, she calls it Hopelessness.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Frosty the Zombie
...stolen from a letter I wrote to friend in NYC:
Yeah, I wondered about how things were going for you "up there" in SnowLand... entirely envious, of course, just because the ONE chance we've had for snow was last weekend and it was a piss-poor experience... instead of a nice big blowout of 2-4 inches as promised, it just flurried off and on for 3 days. Pretty, but unsatisfying. And all of the FORCED snowmen ("Kids! There's a half-inch! We MUST BUILD THE SNOWMAN NOW before it's all gone!") as rotting pillars of gray and muddy snow in the middle of green grass look so sad. You wouldn't think snowmen could rot, but they can.
Yeah, I wondered about how things were going for you "up there" in SnowLand... entirely envious, of course, just because the ONE chance we've had for snow was last weekend and it was a piss-poor experience... instead of a nice big blowout of 2-4 inches as promised, it just flurried off and on for 3 days. Pretty, but unsatisfying. And all of the FORCED snowmen ("Kids! There's a half-inch! We MUST BUILD THE SNOWMAN NOW before it's all gone!") as rotting pillars of gray and muddy snow in the middle of green grass look so sad. You wouldn't think snowmen could rot, but they can.
So I says to her,
I'm going to crochet a hat and scarf for my friend in NYC because she is smart enough to compliment a baby blanket I made, and ask if I could make her stuff in the same yarn. I loves me some flattering, so of COURSE I started last night. This, despite the fact that I have 2 baby blankets to do, a cross-stitch baby announcement, a historic sampler, a embroidered purse, and a half-dozen or so UFOs (un-finished objects) in my cluttered apartment.
But it's COLD, and they're up to their necks in snow, and it will stop being winter soon. So that takes precedence. The purse will be next to get worked on, since I really want to finish it - it's more elaborate and complicated than anything I've made before, and I really don't want to set it aside for fear of not picking it back up.
Then the sampler - I have to get a certain amount done each month, since I am part of a pilot group in Nashville that is working on it. Jennifer Core of the Tennessee Sampler Survey is designing the sampler based on elements taken directly from samplers made in Middle Tennessee over 100+ years ago - she's documented dozens of them, and so stitchers in Nashville & Knoxville are working on personalized versions of it through 2006 - 10 bands, and an average one is a foot wide and over 4 feet long! People are using different types of fibers - silk, cotton, hand-dyed - and different thread-counts of linen... I'm going straight down the middle with cotton DMC thread on 32 count linen.
Which will mean NOTHING to most of you.
But I'm making Renu a hat with earflaps and long strings, although the pompoms have been rejected. Cause it's COLD and the chilled people of New York need our help keeping warm. It makes me so happy to do it, too. So often I make things as a surprise for people, and although they are complimentary, I really don't think they're as appreciative as I selfishly would wish. Cause it's all about what makes ME happy!
But it's COLD, and they're up to their necks in snow, and it will stop being winter soon. So that takes precedence. The purse will be next to get worked on, since I really want to finish it - it's more elaborate and complicated than anything I've made before, and I really don't want to set it aside for fear of not picking it back up.
Then the sampler - I have to get a certain amount done each month, since I am part of a pilot group in Nashville that is working on it. Jennifer Core of the Tennessee Sampler Survey is designing the sampler based on elements taken directly from samplers made in Middle Tennessee over 100+ years ago - she's documented dozens of them, and so stitchers in Nashville & Knoxville are working on personalized versions of it through 2006 - 10 bands, and an average one is a foot wide and over 4 feet long! People are using different types of fibers - silk, cotton, hand-dyed - and different thread-counts of linen... I'm going straight down the middle with cotton DMC thread on 32 count linen.
Which will mean NOTHING to most of you.
But I'm making Renu a hat with earflaps and long strings, although the pompoms have been rejected. Cause it's COLD and the chilled people of New York need our help keeping warm. It makes me so happy to do it, too. So often I make things as a surprise for people, and although they are complimentary, I really don't think they're as appreciative as I selfishly would wish. Cause it's all about what makes ME happy!
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Today at a pizza-party lunch here at the AEA (I'll let you figure out what that stands for) one of the ladies confessed that she had, in fact, met her husband at a family reunion. And she's from Pegram. But sorry to disappoint them there Yankees slavering at the old joke made into reality; he was the friend of a relative by marriage and no kin to her. HA!
So ANYWAY...
In typical impulse fashion, I have created a blog. Nothing much else to do today; can't leave work yet, not feeling inspired to write an entire journal entry on my website http://www.shouston.com, so this is an attempt to make myself try the blogging medium.
Wept through the final skating of the Pairs competition as I finally watched it on my tivo this morning... had no idea the Russian pair had dealt with such a debilitating incident as him DROPPING her in competition 2 years back (which gave her a severe concussion; she was unconscious on the ice, in fact) - the guilt and loss of confidence that poor man felt - at the end of their long program, he dropped to his knees and kissed her hands in gratitude for her confidence in him.
THIS is what I watch the Olympics for.
Then the Zhang x 2 pair from China skated last, and she took one of the nastiest spills I've ever seen coming out of a throw to a quad salchow - so bad they had to stop, check her knees, and let her collect herself... your heart just bled for he, and the audience just clapped and cheered so encouragingly. But then they resumed their program and did beautifully, and WON SILVER! Now THAT is what I watch the Olympics for. Just unbelievable.
Wept through the final skating of the Pairs competition as I finally watched it on my tivo this morning... had no idea the Russian pair had dealt with such a debilitating incident as him DROPPING her in competition 2 years back (which gave her a severe concussion; she was unconscious on the ice, in fact) - the guilt and loss of confidence that poor man felt - at the end of their long program, he dropped to his knees and kissed her hands in gratitude for her confidence in him.
THIS is what I watch the Olympics for.
Then the Zhang x 2 pair from China skated last, and she took one of the nastiest spills I've ever seen coming out of a throw to a quad salchow - so bad they had to stop, check her knees, and let her collect herself... your heart just bled for he, and the audience just clapped and cheered so encouragingly. But then they resumed their program and did beautifully, and WON SILVER! Now THAT is what I watch the Olympics for. Just unbelievable.
Saturday, December 17, 2005
Festivus
OH
I AM SO TIRED OF THIS!!!!!!!!!! Everyone get a grip and MOVE ON! If I
weren't a die-hard Christian, I would embrace the faux holiday of Festivus,
with the Feats of Strength and the Airing of Grievances, just to turn
my back on this ludicrous debate and pretend it wasn't going on.
Everyone just stop the pointless discussion and go read Harrison Bergeron.
I read this in 8th grade and didn't get it then, but boy, do I get it
now.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
I'll Sleep When I'm Dead
A
friend said this the other day, and as usual, I felt the familiar
guilt. I am one of those unwilling to give up sleep for other "more
important" things. Ever since I read the passage in Proverbs 6: “How
long will you lie there, you sluggard? When will you get up from your
sleep? A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands
to rest -- and poverty will come on you like a bandit and scarcity like
an armed man,” I have had a sense that perhaps I was not holding up my
end of things.
I
don’t want to be poor, and I don’t want to be a sluggard, but dammit, I
NEED MY SLEEP! I’m one of those folks that gets nauseous and sick when
I’m sleep-deprived, and yet there are so many people I know: 1) those
who survive, reluctantly, on 5-6 hours a night; 2) young parents, never
able to get more than a few hours at a time; 3) those who just don’t
seem to need more than 4 hours a night and that means YOU, Ken, you damn
freak. All of this conspires to add to my sense of guilt for not being
one of those folks who get up at the crack o’ dawn and “go for a run”
before breakfast and the morning paper. Perhaps, I think, I would
actually go to the gym every day… spend time in meditation and prayer…
make a lunch for the day and start dinner in the Crock-Pot… if only I
could get up at 5!
Instead, on most mornings, I get up at 7… so I can lounge in bed and slowly awake while watching last night’s rerun of The West Wing
(how I lurve you Bradley Whitford & Rob Lowe!) until 8. I feel very
bad about this, I assure you. But you know, I am usually in a good mood
as a result. One should not underestimate the benefits of a Good Mood.
So,
back to my friend and her comment. She’s in a tough job, starting at
the bottom to work her way up, and the company LOOOOVES to see how much
they can push you before rewarding you with a pitiful salary and job
insecurity and the dubious cachet of a line on your resume that doesn’t
always pay off as it should. If she sticks it out, she will officially
be one of those Go-Getters who can be anything she wants to be. But how
much fun is she having as a result? Maybe she has a nice low-sleep
threshold, but what if she doesn’t, and just gets by on coffee? What is
the quality of her life then?
If
you go through every day of your life except maybe weekends feeling
tired & run down, WHAT IS THE ADVANTAGE of living that kind of life?
Sure, it implies you've got a character with moxie, gusto,
competetiveness, worthy of joinging The Trump Organization… but is it
any fun? Do you like working when you just want to lie down and sleep?
Does your brain work well under those conditions? Are you performing at
your best? (Now, this diatribe only applies to those who choose to sleep
less so they can do more… new parents are exempt, since we all know
they’d like more sleep, since that’s what they’re always telling us,
sensible and weary people that they are.)
Anyway,
I had an epiphany a few days ago, and the guilt lifted when I realized
that the QUALITY of my life was (partially) dependent on sufficient
sleep. The implied virtue of those who deprive themselves of sleep in
order to get ahead no longer hangs over me, Hallelujah! I am now free to
sleep my 7-8 hours and know that in it’s own way, Sleep is my Gym, my
Healthy Diet, my Positive Attitude.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
A Small Chunk of Holiday Bitterness
So
I mentally wrote this last night as I drove home, only to walk in the
door and promptly forget it. And it was GOOD - really good... THEN. Let
us see if it can be re-created, shall we?
So,
last night, I went to TJ Maxx to buy Christmas presents for my new
part-time co-workers over at the AEA. I'm sure it's perfectly clear to
everyone that I'm in Straitened Financial Circumstances at present, what
with the Unemployment and starting my own business, etc. But on Tuesday
I came in to find 2 gift bags on my desk and the realization that in
this office, everyone gives little presents to everyone else "but you
don't have to if you don't want to," what with the fact that I just
started 3-4 weeks ago. Well, of course I don't want to! But I must.
Why?
you may ask. Because it's necessary. Because I'm going to be working
with these 9 women for some time to come, hopefully, and you never get a
second chance to make a first impression. Because we're not to the
place where I would share the information that I'm perpetually broke and
borrowing money to pay bills from my family. Because they are all best
friends from childhood and later, and although they aren't cutting me
out in any way, I don't need to set myself apart from the group any more
than I already am, what with the part-time aspect of my job, and the
fact that I don't come in til 9:30 and leave at 6 (they're really good
to me here!) Because they have asked me to come with them to Boston for
the AEA Conference in January, are paying my way and my salary, and I'm
going to be working with these women all day, every day for a week.
Because they are Nice Women. Because I am a Nice Woman too.
So
I spent $40 on some (really pretty) Christmas ornaments, $5 on
giftwrap, and spent my one precious free night at home this week
bundling, wrapping, and ribboning a dozen gifts, when I can't even
afford presents for my family (who have strictly forbidden me to give
them anything at all this year) or my best friends. I have to give
presents to a bunch of women, some whose names I don't even know yet,
instead of to the ones I really care about. And I really wonder at times
like this, if being a Nice Woman is a good idea.
Dang.
My invective has lost power since last night, when I was still fuming
over this. Why is it that my best writing is when I'm mad? I don't like
being mad!
Incidentally:
My work has really picked up lately! Thanks to all the folks who've been spreading the word about me. Of course, I'm always tired and never have any free time to relax, but there's a bit more money coming in. Now my eyebrows are above water occasionally...
My work has really picked up lately! Thanks to all the folks who've been spreading the word about me. Of course, I'm always tired and never have any free time to relax, but there's a bit more money coming in. Now my eyebrows are above water occasionally...
Saturday, November 26, 2005
The Christmas Card Letter, 2005
Dearest Friends & Family,
This
year has gotten away from me in a way I had not anticipated 11 months
ago! It’s mid-November as I begin to write this, and I marvel that I am
being so wasteful as to sit and write a holiday letter when it’s one of
the rare evenings that I have free in weeks. Plus the sink is full of
dishes, I need to make 2 birthday cakes for tomorrow, and the new Harry
Potter movie has just opened and I don’t know when I’ll get a chance to
see it at all! Yes, YOU and Entertaining You this Christmas is my
priority. Don’t you feel special?
2005
has been one of those Good-For-You years, the emotional equivalent of
eating leafy, dark green vegetables and low-fat dairy products. Except
that it’s been a Maturing and Patience-developing year. In April, the
Big Ole Office Move at William Morris took place, and I survived it, but
only briefly… 10 weeks later I was let go, and ever since I have been
alternately goofing off and well-nigh killing myself to make ends meet.
All my naïve assumptions of immediately finding a new and more
impressive job were, alas, ill-founded, and so I have been dabbling in
useful activities like clerical work, running errands, babysitting, and
pretty much any McJob with a flexible schedule I could find. Including
ironing.
On the more positive side, I started my own small business – House Calls Computer Service.
As the name rather ...umm... creatively states, I make house calls to
provide computer services... It’s enjoyable work, and I think I have a
knack for it, especially in giving tutorials. I’m still in the early
stages, and I find it difficult to keep myself from giving discounts to
my customers so I’m not making enough from it to live on yet, but
everyone is amazingly enthusiastic about my future prospects. I also
started a regular part-time job working on web design for the American
Economic Association on the Vanderbilt University campus – every bit
helps! Now I race from house call to house call around the
Nashville-Brentwood-Franklin area to keep my workdays filled.
The Latest Hobby
This year I’ve been an obsessed embroiderer – a “Stitcher” as the regulars call themselves. If I am sitting in front of the TV, I am working on a cross-stitch/embroidery project without fail. And as with every hobby, I've assembled a new batch of friends, who gather a few times each month to sit & sew. I've even started a monthly Sewing Bee (renamed "Crafting Bee" when a bunch of scrapbookers wanted in on it) at St. Bartholemew's Church. See previous vicissitudes on the subject below...
This year I’ve been an obsessed embroiderer – a “Stitcher” as the regulars call themselves. If I am sitting in front of the TV, I am working on a cross-stitch/embroidery project without fail. And as with every hobby, I've assembled a new batch of friends, who gather a few times each month to sit & sew. I've even started a monthly Sewing Bee (renamed "Crafting Bee" when a bunch of scrapbookers wanted in on it) at St. Bartholemew's Church. See previous vicissitudes on the subject below...
The Chilluns
Well, there are no new babies this year, and from what my sisters are telling me, there won't be any more in the future. So I am having to console myself with Emma, who is halfway through her Twos and hardly classifies as a baby anymore. *sigh* But she's chirpy and cheerful, and whooo! strong-willed. She wants what she wants, when she wants it, and if it means screaming for 20+ minutes, she has the strength and determination to prevail until distracted by something shiny. She Shall Not Be Moved. At the same time, she's the easiest child to put to bed, although in recent months she will stay awake for an extra hour or two, putting on her own late-night talk show over the baby monitor. Chirp chirp chirp. Plus she looks exactly like Charlie Brown's sister Sally.
Well, there are no new babies this year, and from what my sisters are telling me, there won't be any more in the future. So I am having to console myself with Emma, who is halfway through her Twos and hardly classifies as a baby anymore. *sigh* But she's chirpy and cheerful, and whooo! strong-willed. She wants what she wants, when she wants it, and if it means screaming for 20+ minutes, she has the strength and determination to prevail until distracted by something shiny. She Shall Not Be Moved. At the same time, she's the easiest child to put to bed, although in recent months she will stay awake for an extra hour or two, putting on her own late-night talk show over the baby monitor. Chirp chirp chirp. Plus she looks exactly like Charlie Brown's sister Sally.
Eldest
Nephew Elliott is 12 this year, and my heart just SINKS when I think of
it. He and George (8) are ardent Boy/Cub Scouters with their Dad, who
has developed a widespread reputation in Middle Tennessee as quite the
Troop Leader. They WILL be Eagle Scouts. Henry (4) is finding that Emma
is an adequate playmate, since he can boss her around after being bossed
around by E and G for years. The Knoxville triplet of Taylor (7) Maddie
(5) and Virginia (3) have finally lost their shyness of me (what am I
saying... Maddie never met a stranger!) and as a result we are having
much more fun when Greta and the girls come to Nashville for a visit. We
all went to the Gentry Farm Pumpkin Fest in October on what ended up
being the coldest day of the month, and those girls went about wrapped
in various borrowed sweaters, ponchos, and Aunty/Mimmy arms.
Year-End Picks
Books: Freakonomics, and Harry Potter & The Half-Blood Prince. HP is a bygone conclusion; I'm on the verge of actual memorization of the entire canon. Freakonomics is in response to the steady lean towards non-fiction I have been experiencing in recent years - it's absolutely perfect for people like myself who think Economics = Boring.
Movies: Hitchhikers' Guide to the Universe and Pride & Prejudice. Both British, both funny, charming, romantic and highly entertaining. Of course, I haven't seen the new HP movie yet... but it's British too, isn't it?
TV: The Colbert Report (Comedy Central) and How I Met Your Mother (CBS). I'm so happy to find some funny shows after what seemed to be a serious drought. Stephen Colbert is so good at parodying Fox News & CNN, and Neil Patrick Harris WILL win the Best Supporting Actor in a Comedy Emmy this year.
Music: Anoushka Shankar's Rise. After gaining a fondness for Indian musical influences through my passion for Bollywood, I stumbled on this and just love it - some amazingly nifty combinations of South Asian & Western instruments. (She's the daughter of Ravi Shankar, and Norah Jones' sister.)
Books: Freakonomics, and Harry Potter & The Half-Blood Prince. HP is a bygone conclusion; I'm on the verge of actual memorization of the entire canon. Freakonomics is in response to the steady lean towards non-fiction I have been experiencing in recent years - it's absolutely perfect for people like myself who think Economics = Boring.
Movies: Hitchhikers' Guide to the Universe and Pride & Prejudice. Both British, both funny, charming, romantic and highly entertaining. Of course, I haven't seen the new HP movie yet... but it's British too, isn't it?
TV: The Colbert Report (Comedy Central) and How I Met Your Mother (CBS). I'm so happy to find some funny shows after what seemed to be a serious drought. Stephen Colbert is so good at parodying Fox News & CNN, and Neil Patrick Harris WILL win the Best Supporting Actor in a Comedy Emmy this year.
Music: Anoushka Shankar's Rise. After gaining a fondness for Indian musical influences through my passion for Bollywood, I stumbled on this and just love it - some amazingly nifty combinations of South Asian & Western instruments. (She's the daughter of Ravi Shankar, and Norah Jones' sister.)
Technology:
the iPod & Podcasts. This thing is awesome - yes, it's great
because on a road trip I can pre-load a dozen books-on-tape or more...
but then there are downloadable Podcasts, which range from fan
discussions of the TV show Lost, to interviews with the historic artisans at Colonial Williamsburg, to ABC's Nightline. I feel smarter and smarter every day!
And
now, the confession: These are practically the ONLY things I have
seen/read/heard this year! It's just been really, really busy.
This
coming December feels very odd to me, and I don't quite know what to
expect from it. Turning 37 (30!) does make the biological clock skip a
beat (or smash it), and after 8+ years in a generously predictable
pattern tied in to my job and year-end bonuses, I don't know how
Christmas will turn out now that the routine is gone. The whole Holiday
Season is off the tracks for me. But that's how life is supposed to
work, I guess - God periodically takes us out of our comfort zone and
down a different path. I just hope I arrive at the next stopping place
soon and can get comfy again, despite the highly beneficial nature of
the rocky hike!
May God bless and keep you this Christmas and in the coming year!
Love, Susan
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
What Women Want
[Before I begin my rant, I just want to thank everyone who has been calling me for computer help - my business is growing at a steady (though not explosive) rate, and week after week, amazingly, I've been able to pay the bills. Thank God. I just sit back and see my financial needs being met! Although I am feeling more ignorant about computers daily...]
I'm talking about the birthday cards that inevitably feature 3-5 older women, usually from about 20-50 years back, doing something outrageous as a group and "celebrating" their girlfriend-ness. See? Even old ladies from way-back-when had fun with their girlfriends!
So anyway... The other day, I was attempting to explain to a younger friend about something that ever so slightly annoyed me in an older, married women-friend. I was trying to articulate the alarming wholesale enthusiasm she had for the current trend of mass-produced, artificially-cheerful, girlfriend-sharing, bubblebath, margaritas, chocolate, shoes and shopping-bedecked STUFF. You know what I am talking about, although it's just now reaching the point where it's becoming really noticeable, especially at places like TJ Maxx and the gift / cards section at Borders. I'm talking about the product lines that have descended like a hailstorm upon the market that make quippy little remarks about our EXTREME PASSIONS for things like the aforementioned chocolate, bubblebaths, and shopping. With our girlfriends.
I'm talking about the birthday cards that inevitably feature 3-5 older women, usually from about 20-50 years back, doing something outrageous as a group and "celebrating" their girlfriend-ness. See? Even old ladies from way-back-when had fun with their girlfriends!
I'm talking about the notecards in bright fuchsia and black with a single high-heeled pump or an Audrey Hepburn "Breakfast at Tiffanys" hat that just screams how much the sender/recipient loves fashion, especially Manolo Blah-niks.
I'm talking about the Chick Lit that is inevitably bound in hot pink, bright orange, or robins-egg blue. Usually all three.
I'm talking about the margarita/martini kits, anything with the I-Live-To-Shop philosophy emblazoned upon it, and the assumption that chocolate is a longed-for source of comfort to all women.
I don't personally care about any of this stuff (except occasional chocolate, but not for medicinal purposes), and yet it seems unkind and cruel to mock it to friends; usually because many of them were married too young, never discovered their personal tastes and preferences, and so are gladly latching on to these proffered escapes from their husband-work-kids existences, because they don't have time to develop anything on their own. The free time I take for granted (well, not entirely for granted; I certainly suffer when it's taken away from me!) to read and drive and watch TV and movies and do stuff blissfully alone is denied to so many women.
So I don't feel inclined to make fun of it; rather I grieve for the women who find these offerings novel and entertaining... because they don't have the time and freedom to find anything beyond them that their own soul really responds to.
If you see yourself in this, try reading The Enchanted April by Elizabeth Von Arnim. It's a cure-all for what ails you. Yes, I know you saw the movie. Yes, it's very good. Read the book anyway.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
House Calls
I must say, being swept along with an idea makes life SO much easier - you just let the current take you. Last week I decided I would advertise myself for home computer service, since for me it's much more satisfying and profitable than stuffing envelopes for a temp agency. Since then, I've just proceeded as though it was my full-time job, and it has proven far better an idea than I could have anticipated.
For years, whenever anyone asked what I did for a living and I said computers, most responses were "man, I need to get someone in to look at my computer, it's so slow!" or "I need wireless set up" or "I need to be shown how to use such-and-such." So, rather lazily, I decided to start making house calls, and this is the result:
Stay tuned!
Thursday, June 23, 2005
State of the Susan
I
am an amazingly fortunate and well-loved girl,
let me
tell you! We Southerners know how to cuddle and
care for
our own, as I have had amply demonstrated to me
in the
last 6 days. Granted, I did send about 100 folks
on my
email list a notice saying I was no longer at
WMA with
my new email address, so the News of Grief was
out there...
but so many people have been emailing, calling,
and praying
that I haven't had too much time to dwell on the
difficulties
of my situation. I haven't been this socially
active,
for, like, EVER. Almost daily there's been an
invitation
to lunch, or a horrified friend wanting details
over dinner & a movie, etc. It's nice to have people outraged
on your behalf!
Other
developments: I have been dismayed to discover how filthy
and cluttered my apartment is by the light of day. This
is a strong indication of how lazy yet overworked I've
been in the last year, as dusting has become an activity
only attempted when guests were imminent, and spiders
and roly-poly bugs have had free range of the areas behind
furniture. Plus I have been forced to add even more to
the clutter by bringing in the boxes of junk from my office.
I have nowhere to put this stuff, let alone the gracefully
placed stacks of books, boxes, etc. already scattered
throughout my apartment. 742 square feet is JUST NOT ENOUGH.
I need another room.
But
that doesn't allay the underlying problem--that I no longer
have any excuse whatsoever not to clean up the place.
I think we have fully established that I have enough time
now. I must root out the Packrat Within, and start hauling
out unnecessary detritus to Goodwill and Amvets. But
I don't wanna...!
Spirits
are high, as I dearly love to talk about myself and how
I'm doing, and this week has been one non-stop Me Me Me
Me session. But I am beginning to get tired of Me, so
I will be glad when all of the main people are fully apprised
and I can start trying to figure out What To Do Next.
I am hoping for a quick, clear and inescapable notification
from God as to what my future plans are to be. Yeah, right.
Saturday, June 18, 2005
Starting Something New
Yesterday
I was let go from my job at William Morris Agency, after 8.5
years. The basic reason was that I was no longer a good fit
for the job (which has expanded a great deal over the years),
but I was appreciated for all my years of service with the
Nashville office. I was a little teary-eyed, but managed to
maintain my composure until I was out of the office. The rest
of the afternoon and evening was spent in a not-unpleasant
state of shock, as I enumerated to friends and family how
nice it would be to have free time for several weeks, and
maybe try something new, and how nice to be able to sleep
late on Monday! A couple of friends came over to commiserate
with me, we went out and had a fun dinner, and I got to bed
early.
I
woke up in a considerably different state of mind. As the
day as progressed, the shock has been wearing off, and the
pain and grief has been setting in. When you're single, I
really think that your job is something akin to a spouse.
Carrying the analogy a bit further, losing your job can be
like being divorced or widowed. The tears have been flowing
off and on, and the vast, yawning gulf of "what do I
do now?" is before me. I think that perhaps I'm meant
to do something else now instead of computer support, but
what that might be is unknown to me. I like my stable existence,
and am happiest when I have a routine to follow. But now I
feel adrift, abandoned, with no solid ground in sight.
This
might be one of those life-changing seasons I go through periodically,
where God (who loves me too well to leave me as I am) starts
making changes on my behalf. I can recognize the ultimate
advantages and rewards, but it's pretty painful during the
process. I feel a little panicky about what Monday will be
like, without my routine to cling to; common sense and my
Dad say I should start the job search immediately that morning.
Part of me rebels at the idea, because I would like to have
at least one whole month without working, just to see what
it's like. But I also know that I don't do terribly well when
I'm idle and have nothing but ME time. Yeah, I need it, but
not for days on end!
I
am fortunate that I am well-enough provided for that I don't
have to snatch the first job that comes along; but I think
I will feel much better if I can find something suitable and
get settled in. In the meantime, I am available for some computer
consulting and whatever part-time jobs that might come along.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Handiwork
I am currently engaged in a wholly engrossing activity of truly
nerdish/geeky proportions; I have become a chronic embroiderer.
My favorite activity most nights is to come home and watch Simpsons
episodes while I do needlework. I am keenly aware that this is
the most appallingly boring activity most hip young thirty-somethings
could ever imagine. But there are several compelling reasons why
I feel the need to sew.
Four
and Five deserve some elaboration... some "embroidery,"
if you will. All day long at my IT job I manipulate bits of nothingness
- I produce NOTHING except documents that more often
than not
never even get printed - ghosts of words that are read
by someone
in an email and then deleted, never to be made tangible.
Needlework
is the one inescapably real thing I do outside the
office that
actually displays talent and skill beyond my ability to
hook up
a user laptop on a DSL wireless network and connect via
VPN to
the office network, or add a show venue address to an
enormous
database.
[BTW,
did you know that the word "suzan" in Farsi means "needle"?
See?!]
-
One, because it keeps me from being an irredeemable couch potato. As long as I am Productive, I don't feel like my evenings in front of the TV are a complete waste.
-
Two, because it keeps me from eating from boredom - it is impossible to eat and sew simultaneously.
-
Three, because it impresses the hell out of almost everyone. A well-executed sampler or project as a gift will pretty much make every other gift look tawdry, cheap, and ill-considered. "See? I love you more than everyone else!"
-
Four, because it is beautiful.
-
Five, because it is real.
Four
and Five deserve some elaboration... some "embroidery,"
if you will. All day long at my IT job I manipulate bits of nothingness
- I produce NOTHING except documents that more often
than not
never even get printed - ghosts of words that are read
by someone
in an email and then deleted, never to be made tangible.
Needlework
is the one inescapably real thing I do outside the
office that
actually displays talent and skill beyond my ability to
hook up
a user laptop on a DSL wireless network and connect via
VPN to
the office network, or add a show venue address to an
enormous
database.
It
used to be that most of the things produced with needle and thread
were useful in some way - you made clothing or upholstery or bed
linens yourself. But now there's no need - it can be done more
cheaply and quickly by machines in factories, or by women at home
on sewing machines. Almost the only hand-sewing done now is for
art's sake - quilts, cross-stitch, needlepoint. And when you use
real linen, and cotton or sometimes silk thread, there is a tangible,
beautiful product completed after many hours. It takes focus and
it takes patience. Except for little projects, most needlework
projects take weeks or months.
It's
sometimes my only grasp on what is real, what matters, what is
meaningful - with a TiVo, iPod, and Blackberry, I can literally
spend HOURS on intangibles that have little value or benefit (unless
it be to inspire or educate... but for me, usually it's just for
entertainment). I come home after herding invisible bits and bytes
around an unseen network all day, and I pick up a piece of fine
linen with threads of scarlet and purple, and I am making something
far more enduring than the report on client earnings I generated
that morning, or the software installed that afternoon.
And
of course, like I said - it impresses the hell out of everyone.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Bunny
It has always been slightly distressing to me that despite
my vibrant,
sparkling personality, I have never acquired a nickname. I
have
always been rigidly, unyieldingly "Susan". There has been
the occasional "Sooze," "Suze," and "Suzie-Q"
but never with any consistency to be considered official.
Not even
my nieces and nephews have come up with an informal
nickname, unless
you consider their first attempts at saying my name, which
tended
to lean towards "Shzughjen" - apparently my name falls
into the category of Difficult Consonants for Children
Learning
to Speak. My friend Rachel has been nicknamed "Kitten,"
which is so wonderfully inappropriate that it is FABULOUS. It's
perfect for her persona in it's ironic,
Ann-Margret-in-an-Elvis-movie
cuteness.
I don't particularly admire cuteness in human beings, but this weakness
for baby animals… what can I say, it's chronic. So, I henceforth
wish to be known as "Bunny". It will take a while to get
this ingrained in my circle of friends, I admit - but I will strive
to make it happen, even though I am an aged 36 (29) and such habits
are hard to pick up as an adult. But if I am expected to make a
habit of going to the gym, then I think this is certainly MUCH easier
to instill.
So
this has been a topic of conversation several times in recent weeks,
by some coincidence. I was just sitting here, and glanced as I often
do, at my Bunny calendar, with it's oh-so-cute pictures, and went "Bingo!"
I am a sucker for little, cute, fluffy bunnies, puppies and kittens.
I am apt to squeal when seeing them. Really. All adult sensibilities
drain out of my body upon sighting such Cuteness. This, despite
my fondness for macabre, black comedy. I turn into a 5 year old
chasing a baby chick on Easter. Perhaps this tendency has continued
into adulthood because my fondness for Cute Things was never accommodated
as a child. I have some Hello Kitty items of recent purchase, carefully
selected to appear kitschy and ironic when noticed by others… but really, I like them because they're adorable.
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