First off, let me say that I love my parents, and I'm especially grateful to my mom for what she's done throughout the years. My parents raised us girls to be feminists in the very natural, "well, why not?" sort of way.
However, I think that giving me a print of this poem for my 13th birthday fucked my psyche in a way that I'm still processing and I really, really wish she'd just given me a Thighmaster.
After A While
After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
And company doesn't mean security,
And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts
And presents aren't promises
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open,
With the grace of a woman,
Not the grief of a child
And you learn to build all your roads on today,
Because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After awhile you learn that even sunshine
Burns if you get too much
So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
In stead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers
And you learn that you really can endure...
That you really are strong
And you really do have worth,
and you learn and learn...
With every good bye you learn.
Veronica Shoffstall 1971
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Warning: Feminist Ranting Ahead
Just as a head's up--later today there will be at least 2 feminist librarian rants posted. I'm letting you know not because I'm ashamed of my rants or think you wouldn't enjoy them, but because my temper is like Krakatoa and these rants have been building a while.
Monday, March 31, 2008
When In Doubt, Throw It Out!
This NY Times article on literary dealbreakers amused me. It's already the most emailed article of last weekend.
I've already mentioned my criteria for potential dates includes that they must read something. I have amended this to something other than Maxim and the paper.
It's funny though, but if you looked at what I'm keeping bookwise, it's so little that you might assume I don't read. Aside from that damn MLIS. Truthfully, most of the books I like would be really cheap to replace or are available through library ILL or consortium services. So I don't think I have to keep things anymore. Live in a place with good libraries, yes. It may be a bit of a rental economy to look at it in such a way, but I am beginning to think the rental economy isn't all that bad an idea.
Obviously, I will have to shanghai men into going to the library with me where I can play reader's advisory and impress them with my literary hots, but that's a small price to pay. And a cheap date.
On a related note, John Moe had an amusing piece on "Weekend America" about those bits and pieces of our past that we can't bear to look out or throw out. I have a lot of this. All Tom Moran's letters, writing projects from high school, the school papers my mom turned over to me, an abundance of other odds and ends. Like Moe, I can't bear to scrutinize my younger self and let it go, even if I know who I am now and how those relationships and experiences shaped me.
In other news, I have thrown out/left for the VOA/Freecycled an embarrassing amount of stuff lately. I have this vision of me and Cain in a studio apartment, (ironically, out in Arizona, studio apartments tend to be larger than my last 1 bedroom apartment and probably have a more workable layout) sitting on a bed in the sunshine while I work on the computer. Maybe I need a box, a physical but not emotional one. That way I won't be tempted by too much stuff, could learn to reign in my impulses, and couldn't substitute distractions for my real needs.
Next up? I'm going to make someone very happy with all that Tupperware my ex gave me.
I've already mentioned my criteria for potential dates includes that they must read something. I have amended this to something other than Maxim and the paper.
It's funny though, but if you looked at what I'm keeping bookwise, it's so little that you might assume I don't read. Aside from that damn MLIS. Truthfully, most of the books I like would be really cheap to replace or are available through library ILL or consortium services. So I don't think I have to keep things anymore. Live in a place with good libraries, yes. It may be a bit of a rental economy to look at it in such a way, but I am beginning to think the rental economy isn't all that bad an idea.
Obviously, I will have to shanghai men into going to the library with me where I can play reader's advisory and impress them with my literary hots, but that's a small price to pay. And a cheap date.
On a related note, John Moe had an amusing piece on "Weekend America" about those bits and pieces of our past that we can't bear to look out or throw out. I have a lot of this. All Tom Moran's letters, writing projects from high school, the school papers my mom turned over to me, an abundance of other odds and ends. Like Moe, I can't bear to scrutinize my younger self and let it go, even if I know who I am now and how those relationships and experiences shaped me.
In other news, I have thrown out/left for the VOA/Freecycled an embarrassing amount of stuff lately. I have this vision of me and Cain in a studio apartment, (ironically, out in Arizona, studio apartments tend to be larger than my last 1 bedroom apartment and probably have a more workable layout) sitting on a bed in the sunshine while I work on the computer. Maybe I need a box, a physical but not emotional one. That way I won't be tempted by too much stuff, could learn to reign in my impulses, and couldn't substitute distractions for my real needs.
Next up? I'm going to make someone very happy with all that Tupperware my ex gave me.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Curse Of The Spellmans--Lisa Lutz
Dear god, the Spellmans are back.
Dear god, the Spellmans are back!
As you may glean from those two statements, I have somewhat mixed feelings about this book. I really liked last years The Spellman Files, narrated by the saucy Izzy, who can't help telling a story that runs around the mulberry bush as police investigate the disappearance of her little sister Rae. Key to the tale was the history of her family of San Franscisco private eyes, a family for whom evasion, deception and suspicion are more of an identifying trait than any physical resemblance. Curse of the Spellmans continues Izzy's roundabout narrative tendencies as she tries to explain to her lawyer Morty how she's managed to get arrested 4 times in 2 months. She maintains that arrests 2 & 3 don't count as they were instigated by family, and 4 shouldn't because...well, it's complicated.
The main flaw levied against Lutz's first novel was that it lacked plot. Her second is chockablock full of major and minor mysteries, and she expertly spins them out. Why is Olivia Spellman sneaking out at night to vandalize a motorbike in the Noe Valley? Why is Albert Spellman hitting the gym after avoiding it for 35 years? Is David Spellman entering a downward spiral and personality change a la Uncle Ray? Why did his wife leave town? Who is recreating a series of pranks Isabel and Petra perpetrated in high school? And what is Inspector Henry Stone getting out of his friendship with the Spellmans, a relationship that leads to accidental attempted vehicular manslaughter, fake engagements, "it takes a village" parenting, and having Izzy as a roommate?
And that's not counting the cause of the arrests, the Spellmans' new neighbor John Brown, or "Suspect," as Izzy calls him. Most girls wouldn't be insanely curious about a locked bedroom, a common name, and a gardening habit. But it only takes a few dates and evaded questions before Izzy's insatiable need to ascertain the truth takes over and leads to dead end investigations, stalking, and a restraining order.
This book is as funny as the original, but there's also an undercurrent of fear and sadness--the Spellmans, for all of their eccentricities seem to be fraying and Izzy's obsessions in particular raise an eyebrow. But it's a great read, and I'm interested in seeing where Lutz goes with this (I presume) series.
If you liked this series, check out Lauren Henderson's Sam Jones and Liz Evans' Grace Smith series for more sarcastic female investigation. They're British, but much the same in tone and humor. I'm also strongly reminded of The Bagthorpe Saga in the way the Spellmans pile on the family crazy.
Dear god, the Spellmans are back!
As you may glean from those two statements, I have somewhat mixed feelings about this book. I really liked last years The Spellman Files, narrated by the saucy Izzy, who can't help telling a story that runs around the mulberry bush as police investigate the disappearance of her little sister Rae. Key to the tale was the history of her family of San Franscisco private eyes, a family for whom evasion, deception and suspicion are more of an identifying trait than any physical resemblance. Curse of the Spellmans continues Izzy's roundabout narrative tendencies as she tries to explain to her lawyer Morty how she's managed to get arrested 4 times in 2 months. She maintains that arrests 2 & 3 don't count as they were instigated by family, and 4 shouldn't because...well, it's complicated.
The main flaw levied against Lutz's first novel was that it lacked plot. Her second is chockablock full of major and minor mysteries, and she expertly spins them out. Why is Olivia Spellman sneaking out at night to vandalize a motorbike in the Noe Valley? Why is Albert Spellman hitting the gym after avoiding it for 35 years? Is David Spellman entering a downward spiral and personality change a la Uncle Ray? Why did his wife leave town? Who is recreating a series of pranks Isabel and Petra perpetrated in high school? And what is Inspector Henry Stone getting out of his friendship with the Spellmans, a relationship that leads to accidental attempted vehicular manslaughter, fake engagements, "it takes a village" parenting, and having Izzy as a roommate?
And that's not counting the cause of the arrests, the Spellmans' new neighbor John Brown, or "Suspect," as Izzy calls him. Most girls wouldn't be insanely curious about a locked bedroom, a common name, and a gardening habit. But it only takes a few dates and evaded questions before Izzy's insatiable need to ascertain the truth takes over and leads to dead end investigations, stalking, and a restraining order.
This book is as funny as the original, but there's also an undercurrent of fear and sadness--the Spellmans, for all of their eccentricities seem to be fraying and Izzy's obsessions in particular raise an eyebrow. But it's a great read, and I'm interested in seeing where Lutz goes with this (I presume) series.
If you liked this series, check out Lauren Henderson's Sam Jones and Liz Evans' Grace Smith series for more sarcastic female investigation. They're British, but much the same in tone and humor. I'm also strongly reminded of The Bagthorpe Saga in the way the Spellmans pile on the family crazy.
Dreaming My Dreams Of You
I had two good dreams last night. In one, my dad and I were on a picnic in a housing development in Arizona. We were on top of a hill, and the landscape was all red dirt and huge rocks. We packed up and left when some kids jumping on a trampoline in their yard below started to jump high enough to see us.
The other had me starting to chase after Cain when he got out. I kept chasing him through backyards, by strawberry beds, and caught him by a bungalow. I picked him up, and it wasn't Cain but Mencken.
The other had me starting to chase after Cain when he got out. I kept chasing him through backyards, by strawberry beds, and caught him by a bungalow. I picked him up, and it wasn't Cain but Mencken.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
I'm So Shanty
Note to self:
In order to keep your fridge from becoming quite so Katrina-like in the next few weeks, here are the rules:
1) Do not cook.
2) Thaw on counter!
3) Everything must be laid flat on the shelf.
4) Put fruit and veg in bags.
5) Wipe off with those bleach things weekly.
You'd never think that I had a job as a cleaner my senior year of college if you'd seen the state of my fridge...
In order to keep your fridge from becoming quite so Katrina-like in the next few weeks, here are the rules:
1) Do not cook.
2) Thaw on counter!
3) Everything must be laid flat on the shelf.
4) Put fruit and veg in bags.
5) Wipe off with those bleach things weekly.
You'd never think that I had a job as a cleaner my senior year of college if you'd seen the state of my fridge...
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Soliciting Opinions
I got some mail from my mom's house and was completely chagrined to find out that it's time for my 15 year high school reunion. I had no friends, hated high school, and I'm fat and charismatic. Should I go? And how much of a battering will my self-esteem take?
Offer opinions in the comments, please.
Offer opinions in the comments, please.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Ghost Writing
HBO and the Postal Service want you to write a letter, because John and Abigail Adams did.
I found this amusing because I write letters. At the moment, I'm mostly writing to Aunt Mary Jane, ridiculous prattle about my daily life. MFA Jane assures me that even if I found it self indulgent, the two of them enjoyed my efforts. But I'm the only person I know who writes pen & ink letters, and I don't see this promotion changing that.
Real letters, on the new stationery, pretty envelopes and stamps. Sometimes I ghostwrite notes from the cats to other animals of their acquaintance (Cain's letter to the Brooklyn cats about how Genevieve's going to have a litter of squirmies and then they'll have to share was the latest). I do it because I love getting mail. No one writes me back, but they do email or call.
I started writing letters my senior year of high school. My friend Corinne Ferraro* had gone off to college, and I had no one left to talk to. So I'd write to Corinne. I'd go down to Red Bank on Saturday and get coffee and bring my stationery and pens. I had one of those 4 color Bics that were so cool, and pretty plain paper, but I think I tried for something nicer than plain ruled school paper. I don't remember what I wrote about--probably books and movies and Peddie School gossip--but I do recall in one letter saying that I'd like to be in a band like Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground, only without the heroin and not singing. Just writing lyrics.
Yeah, that never happened.
I was lonely, and stressed out by my parents over college. I think I seemed disinterested in my life and future, but I was scared and convinced that I'd wind up at Rutgers because no other college would accept me, and that would be fine except my parents would freak out. And it would be too close to them and I'd never get away. I'd be walking down the streets of New Brunswick and my dad would stalk me.
I met Tom Moran at the University of Chicago's admitted students weekend, and we kept up a correspondence for about 2 years. Tom--I still have all your letters, and if you ever find this blog and want them back, I'll return them to you. I can't quite bear to reread them--it's too much the ghosts and confusion of who I was coming back and blurring the present. I'm sorry I stopped writing to you. I didn't have anything to say. And why would you come all the way down to NJ and go to Atlantic City with me? What was up with all that? I know now, I think, but I did not know then. Maybe you didn't either.
I came across a letter from my dad last week and I almost started to cry. His handwriting is small and spiky and looks cramped. Sometimes it would be indecipherable. My handwriting is a mixture of printing and cursive, large and legible, and sometimes slopes too far to the right. I remember my dad getting all pissed once about the way I wrote with my pencil clenched in my fist and trying to force me to cradle it between my index and middle fingers. I was only 7 or 8, Daddy. My hands were very small.
I wasn't a writer when I was young, and I'm still not now. But if blogging has had a huge influence on my willingness to communicate and writing skills, then letter writing was the first baby steps to do that. I didn't like to write anything because it was permanent, because it was evidence that could be used against you. Now I use it defensively--I trick you by revealing some things, so you don't look too close. I only reveal things that I don't mind being used against me.
*I don't usually use real names here, but I'm making an exception for the sake of old friends and Google stalking.
I found this amusing because I write letters. At the moment, I'm mostly writing to Aunt Mary Jane, ridiculous prattle about my daily life. MFA Jane assures me that even if I found it self indulgent, the two of them enjoyed my efforts. But I'm the only person I know who writes pen & ink letters, and I don't see this promotion changing that.
Real letters, on the new stationery, pretty envelopes and stamps. Sometimes I ghostwrite notes from the cats to other animals of their acquaintance (Cain's letter to the Brooklyn cats about how Genevieve's going to have a litter of squirmies and then they'll have to share was the latest). I do it because I love getting mail. No one writes me back, but they do email or call.
I started writing letters my senior year of high school. My friend Corinne Ferraro* had gone off to college, and I had no one left to talk to. So I'd write to Corinne. I'd go down to Red Bank on Saturday and get coffee and bring my stationery and pens. I had one of those 4 color Bics that were so cool, and pretty plain paper, but I think I tried for something nicer than plain ruled school paper. I don't remember what I wrote about--probably books and movies and Peddie School gossip--but I do recall in one letter saying that I'd like to be in a band like Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground, only without the heroin and not singing. Just writing lyrics.
Yeah, that never happened.
I was lonely, and stressed out by my parents over college. I think I seemed disinterested in my life and future, but I was scared and convinced that I'd wind up at Rutgers because no other college would accept me, and that would be fine except my parents would freak out. And it would be too close to them and I'd never get away. I'd be walking down the streets of New Brunswick and my dad would stalk me.
I met Tom Moran at the University of Chicago's admitted students weekend, and we kept up a correspondence for about 2 years. Tom--I still have all your letters, and if you ever find this blog and want them back, I'll return them to you. I can't quite bear to reread them--it's too much the ghosts and confusion of who I was coming back and blurring the present. I'm sorry I stopped writing to you. I didn't have anything to say. And why would you come all the way down to NJ and go to Atlantic City with me? What was up with all that? I know now, I think, but I did not know then. Maybe you didn't either.
I came across a letter from my dad last week and I almost started to cry. His handwriting is small and spiky and looks cramped. Sometimes it would be indecipherable. My handwriting is a mixture of printing and cursive, large and legible, and sometimes slopes too far to the right. I remember my dad getting all pissed once about the way I wrote with my pencil clenched in my fist and trying to force me to cradle it between my index and middle fingers. I was only 7 or 8, Daddy. My hands were very small.
I wasn't a writer when I was young, and I'm still not now. But if blogging has had a huge influence on my willingness to communicate and writing skills, then letter writing was the first baby steps to do that. I didn't like to write anything because it was permanent, because it was evidence that could be used against you. Now I use it defensively--I trick you by revealing some things, so you don't look too close. I only reveal things that I don't mind being used against me.
*I don't usually use real names here, but I'm making an exception for the sake of old friends and Google stalking.
Kerry Leaves The House
And in another exciting edition of Kerry Leaves The House, SuperC and I went to Nancy Pearl's presentation on how to jumpstart your book club on Thursday. SuperC has a dysfunctional book club that she was looking for ideas on how to step in and guide back to health, and I've never been in a book club that lasted more than 2 meetings, and that's even with me keeping my mouth shut. But hopefully I will have to lead a book club in the future. Hopefully.
Nancy Pearl is very sweet, and I really like her Book Lust guides, but the program was more of a round table discussion than the presentation I was expecting. It was good to see how book clubs thrive in some of the libraries in the area, and in high schools, synagogues, etc. Cuyahoga County Public Library, Beachwood branch is bringing Nancy back for more librarian presentations in October.
Nancy Pearl is very sweet, and I really like her Book Lust guides, but the program was more of a round table discussion than the presentation I was expecting. It was good to see how book clubs thrive in some of the libraries in the area, and in high schools, synagogues, etc. Cuyahoga County Public Library, Beachwood branch is bringing Nancy back for more librarian presentations in October.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
I Could Get Kicked Out Of The Family For This
"What for?" you may wonder. Out of wedlock pregnancy? Voting Democrat?
No.
I had to call my brother in law, Jesse X, for instructions on how to open a bottle of wine.
The Don turns in his grave.
No.
I had to call my brother in law, Jesse X, for instructions on how to open a bottle of wine.
The Don turns in his grave.
Kerry Reads The Paper!
So I broke down and read the Plain Dealer today, after I purchased it for the sole reason of laying it on the floor as protection when I painted.
According to that brain trust, housing prices in Lakewood are only down 7% from 2005.
Not believing that, but okay. I think it's more like 20-30% to ensure a sale. In their analysis, they report that East Cleveland home values are down 84%, which is just boggling, Cleveland's down 54%, Euclid 12%, and Cleveland Heights 11%.
According to that brain trust, housing prices in Lakewood are only down 7% from 2005.
Not believing that, but okay. I think it's more like 20-30% to ensure a sale. In their analysis, they report that East Cleveland home values are down 84%, which is just boggling, Cleveland's down 54%, Euclid 12%, and Cleveland Heights 11%.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Things I Get Obsessed With
Kate Nash & Billy Bragg doing a medley of "Foundations/ A New England"--Billy Bragg writes beautiful emotional lyrics and Kate Nash is working this cute but hard girl singer thing, and together it's just magical fun.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Pain Lasts Long After Traumatic Injury
No shit, Sherlock!
Sorry, but since I broke the humerus 5 years ago I have had pain issues. I'd put my pain at a 3 most of the year and then during the winter with the snow and the wet and the wind it goes up to about a 6-7. And the problem with chronic pain, you have to be ahead of it and that's hard to do. If I'm not treating the pain in a preventative way, I'll have 3-4 days in which I can't get anything done, or I feel weird or I'm distracted and then it finally hits me that ha, ha! it's been really cold and that's why I can't think. Chronic pain hovers at the back of your brain and puts a haze on everything you do. It's not fun.
Sorry, but since I broke the humerus 5 years ago I have had pain issues. I'd put my pain at a 3 most of the year and then during the winter with the snow and the wet and the wind it goes up to about a 6-7. And the problem with chronic pain, you have to be ahead of it and that's hard to do. If I'm not treating the pain in a preventative way, I'll have 3-4 days in which I can't get anything done, or I feel weird or I'm distracted and then it finally hits me that ha, ha! it's been really cold and that's why I can't think. Chronic pain hovers at the back of your brain and puts a haze on everything you do. It's not fun.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Back To Solitary, Specs!
Specs is a very, very bad girl.
Last night Cain came down for food and I saw this horrible bloody scabby thing on his tail. I mildly freaked and tried to see what was up and blot it with a paper towel. I thought he might have gotten overenthusiastic with his grooming since I had noticed he had this matted place on his tail that I kept meaning to wash off. So today we all went down to Gateway since Specs seemed to have something gross happen with her ear this weekend that I wanted to get checked out.
They pull him out of the carrier and the vet immediately goes "Whoa!" and asks me if the two fight. I reply that Specs isn't fond of Cain, but they don't seem to scrap but just growl and he avoids her.
She washes off the wound a little and shaves him and says that it looks like Specs bit him several days ago and it got abscessed and infected, and then it must have burst yesterday. I had noticed the tail bump, but blamed any stink on his poor bathroom habits.
"Oh, Cain! Baby, I was only joking about you needing a tail amputation!"
And this was not the case of 19 pounder Sugar Cain taking on little 8 pound Specs--where she bit him on the tail, it is clear that she was the aggressor. It's the cat equivalent of shooting him in the back.
He is so gentle, he didn't even fight as they squirted the antiseptic into the wound, cleaned out the gaping hole, gave him 2 shots for pain and antibiotics and put him back in the carrier.
Specs has an ear infection thing, which doesn't excuse her behavior. She's going back into her own room. Bitch.
Last night Cain came down for food and I saw this horrible bloody scabby thing on his tail. I mildly freaked and tried to see what was up and blot it with a paper towel. I thought he might have gotten overenthusiastic with his grooming since I had noticed he had this matted place on his tail that I kept meaning to wash off. So today we all went down to Gateway since Specs seemed to have something gross happen with her ear this weekend that I wanted to get checked out.
They pull him out of the carrier and the vet immediately goes "Whoa!" and asks me if the two fight. I reply that Specs isn't fond of Cain, but they don't seem to scrap but just growl and he avoids her.
She washes off the wound a little and shaves him and says that it looks like Specs bit him several days ago and it got abscessed and infected, and then it must have burst yesterday. I had noticed the tail bump, but blamed any stink on his poor bathroom habits.
"Oh, Cain! Baby, I was only joking about you needing a tail amputation!"
And this was not the case of 19 pounder Sugar Cain taking on little 8 pound Specs--where she bit him on the tail, it is clear that she was the aggressor. It's the cat equivalent of shooting him in the back.
He is so gentle, he didn't even fight as they squirted the antiseptic into the wound, cleaned out the gaping hole, gave him 2 shots for pain and antibiotics and put him back in the carrier.
Specs has an ear infection thing, which doesn't excuse her behavior. She's going back into her own room. Bitch.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Worldwide Domination, One Date At A Time
MFA Jane and I have decided to start trying online dating. We are good at being single, independent women, but like to get out of the house a bit. MFA programs, especially the poetry track? Not filled with single straight men. In my experience, neither is Northeast Ohio nor librarianship.
Our basic requirements are single straight men who occasionally read and seem to be somewhat articulate.
It is hard to find them.
As I like to research, let's take a look at some links--
Online Dating Helping Pathetic Women Get Their Hopes Dashed More Efficiently. Yes, but at least we're getting our hopes up in the first place. Small steps.
I suppose he thought that being a vampire/werewolf hybrid would just increase the sexy. Anyway, proof you should step away from the paranormal romance and fantasy section at the bookstore and talk to your kids.
Pal Or Paramour? How to tell when it might be a date versus a hanging out event.
Washington Post's Date Lab is always an interesting experiment on how people do or don't have any chemistry.
A Dater's Bill of Rights
The Art of Small Talk
A Catholic Dater Confesses...: Some advice on dating if you're practicing or not. No word on whether Catholic speed dating events are only for those who failed the convent or seminary screening and have to gear themselves up for the whole getting married thing.
10 Reasons The Recession Will Rock Your Love Life. I can hardly wait.
Our basic requirements are single straight men who occasionally read and seem to be somewhat articulate.
It is hard to find them.
As I like to research, let's take a look at some links--
Online Dating Helping Pathetic Women Get Their Hopes Dashed More Efficiently. Yes, but at least we're getting our hopes up in the first place. Small steps.
I suppose he thought that being a vampire/werewolf hybrid would just increase the sexy. Anyway, proof you should step away from the paranormal romance and fantasy section at the bookstore and talk to your kids.
Pal Or Paramour? How to tell when it might be a date versus a hanging out event.
Washington Post's Date Lab is always an interesting experiment on how people do or don't have any chemistry.
A Dater's Bill of Rights
The Art of Small Talk
A Catholic Dater Confesses...: Some advice on dating if you're practicing or not. No word on whether Catholic speed dating events are only for those who failed the convent or seminary screening and have to gear themselves up for the whole getting married thing.
10 Reasons The Recession Will Rock Your Love Life. I can hardly wait.
Oh, To Get To London!
Brilliant Women: 18th Century Bluestockings is the exhibit I'd love to see.
"Carter was known for her translation of the Stoic philosopher Epictetus, but her friend Samuel Johnson said that besides her talent for translation, she could also make a pudding, work a handkerchief and compose a poem."
A short aside, I am ridiculously in love with my pic to the right. I'm always in love with my own image, and I think it's the best picture of me as an adult ever taken. God bless Photo Booth! Ensuring that when I get kidnapped by my serial killer, there will be a recent picture to hand out to the police!
"Carter was known for her translation of the Stoic philosopher Epictetus, but her friend Samuel Johnson said that besides her talent for translation, she could also make a pudding, work a handkerchief and compose a poem."
A short aside, I am ridiculously in love with my pic to the right. I'm always in love with my own image, and I think it's the best picture of me as an adult ever taken. God bless Photo Booth! Ensuring that when I get kidnapped by my serial killer, there will be a recent picture to hand out to the police!
Things To Eat
A short list of awesome:
Social Tea Biscuits--Only available on the East Coast, these are great cookies. They're low-fat, are so plain they seem low-sugar, and so simple they go with everything. Tea, coffee, milk. Great for kids and old people. Simple doesn't mean gustatory boredom.
Pennsylvania Dutch Homestyle Egg Noodles--I've previously discussed the sad state of egg noodles out here. These are the best. Fluffy, excellent, nice flavor. Works well in cabbage & noodles and as the accompaniment to pot roast.
Lundberg Brown Rice Organic Rice Cakes--Much tastier than white rice cakes. I am on a crunchy salty kick and these really suit.
Epicurious.com's Ultimate Guide To Corned Beef and Cabbage is a great resource if you're planning a boiled dinner for tomorrow.
Generally, I don't have anyone to cook corned beef and cabbage for, so I sometimes go to the evil hated Joe's for a corned beef sandwich and coleslaw. Or a Rueben, which so nicely mashes the Irish and the Eastern European into one hot, fat-filled mess. Aces likes corned beef for St. Patrick's Day. I go for the coleslaw because I dislike boiled cabbage. My mom would save out raw cabbage for me when I was young. Now I am such a fan of raw cabbage and cabbage salad that I make my own coleslaw, which is delicious and great and messy and ultimately wasteful because I am always the only one who likes coleslaw. The Don also loved coleslaw. I didn't know that for a long time.
St. Patrick's Day is our traditional holiday when we're together. Can we make a Christmas dinner or figure out Thanksgiving or get off our asses for the New Year's buffet at the dog track? NNNOOOOO!!! But corned beef brings us together. Even without the vegetables cooked with the beef, which seems inspired but has never been done before.
Social Tea Biscuits--Only available on the East Coast, these are great cookies. They're low-fat, are so plain they seem low-sugar, and so simple they go with everything. Tea, coffee, milk. Great for kids and old people. Simple doesn't mean gustatory boredom.
Pennsylvania Dutch Homestyle Egg Noodles--I've previously discussed the sad state of egg noodles out here. These are the best. Fluffy, excellent, nice flavor. Works well in cabbage & noodles and as the accompaniment to pot roast.
Lundberg Brown Rice Organic Rice Cakes--Much tastier than white rice cakes. I am on a crunchy salty kick and these really suit.
Epicurious.com's Ultimate Guide To Corned Beef and Cabbage is a great resource if you're planning a boiled dinner for tomorrow.
Generally, I don't have anyone to cook corned beef and cabbage for, so I sometimes go to the evil hated Joe's for a corned beef sandwich and coleslaw. Or a Rueben, which so nicely mashes the Irish and the Eastern European into one hot, fat-filled mess. Aces likes corned beef for St. Patrick's Day. I go for the coleslaw because I dislike boiled cabbage. My mom would save out raw cabbage for me when I was young. Now I am such a fan of raw cabbage and cabbage salad that I make my own coleslaw, which is delicious and great and messy and ultimately wasteful because I am always the only one who likes coleslaw. The Don also loved coleslaw. I didn't know that for a long time.
St. Patrick's Day is our traditional holiday when we're together. Can we make a Christmas dinner or figure out Thanksgiving or get off our asses for the New Year's buffet at the dog track? NNNOOOOO!!! But corned beef brings us together. Even without the vegetables cooked with the beef, which seems inspired but has never been done before.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Black 47
So Black 47 and the Mickeys did a great show last night--very energetic and bouncey. Little crowd, only about 65 people. I was surprised that it was such a small crowd for a Friday show right before the Irish American holiday. And I really enjoyed the whole thing because of the smoking ban! It's a pleasure not to have to strip and wash before turning in because you can't stand the smell on yourself. Usually when I go out I have about 45 minutes before inefficiency, the dark, the noise, the crowd, and the smoke hit me and I get too angry to enjoy myself but too pissed to leave because of the money. I'm a complicated girl. But this time I was in a good mood the entire time, even when the fellow I was trying to flirt with left me (I think he didn't quite get that I was trying to be friendly) but then came back for a chat.
This was the first time I'd been back to the Beachland since my participation in the wedding from hell. Even with 2 Woodchucks in me, it was easier to navigate the restroom without wearing industrial strength underwear and a bridesmaid's dress. No wait, the Neko Case show was after that.
The Beachland's been around for 8 years--it's located in an East Side neighborhood called Collinwood. I did what I always do, which is get off at E185th by mistake and have to circle back to E. 152nd past the industrial warehouses. The place was the old Croatian social hall and bar--the Slovenian's hangout is still open down the block. There's at least 1 sausage company still open in the area, and the Variety Thrift is pretty good. They keep trying to open other business in the area, more like Tremont and Little Italy, but Little italy never had an art theft like this one. It's a great place. The social hall is pretty much Eastern European vintage with village scenery paintings set into the walls and some plaster moldings that unfortunately look like KKK hoods in the dark.
Who I have seen at the Beachland: Kate & Anna McGarrigle, Marshall Crenshaw, Los Straitjackets, Amy Rigby, Brave Combo, Neko Case, and a few others I can't recall. I don't get out much. the 25th has the Hackensaw Boys and I might go to that show.
So that's the report--leaving the house is a good thing.
This was the first time I'd been back to the Beachland since my participation in the wedding from hell. Even with 2 Woodchucks in me, it was easier to navigate the restroom without wearing industrial strength underwear and a bridesmaid's dress. No wait, the Neko Case show was after that.
The Beachland's been around for 8 years--it's located in an East Side neighborhood called Collinwood. I did what I always do, which is get off at E185th by mistake and have to circle back to E. 152nd past the industrial warehouses. The place was the old Croatian social hall and bar--the Slovenian's hangout is still open down the block. There's at least 1 sausage company still open in the area, and the Variety Thrift is pretty good. They keep trying to open other business in the area, more like Tremont and Little Italy, but Little italy never had an art theft like this one. It's a great place. The social hall is pretty much Eastern European vintage with village scenery paintings set into the walls and some plaster moldings that unfortunately look like KKK hoods in the dark.
Who I have seen at the Beachland: Kate & Anna McGarrigle, Marshall Crenshaw, Los Straitjackets, Amy Rigby, Brave Combo, Neko Case, and a few others I can't recall. I don't get out much. the 25th has the Hackensaw Boys and I might go to that show.
So that's the report--leaving the house is a good thing.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Kerry Leaves The House
That's right--on Friday night I will leave the house and do something fun! I am going to the Black 47 show at the Beachland. Aren't you surprised? I do not do these things, but I feel the need to have some sort of St. Patrick's celebration. And who can resist a rousing rendition of "I Got Laid On James Joyce's Grave?"
God, "Funky Ceili" and "Maria's Wedding" came out when I was in high school.
God, "Funky Ceili" and "Maria's Wedding" came out when I was in high school.
Monday, March 10, 2008
The First Mouse Encounter
I originally wrote this story in February 2005.
So, the cats really do love me.
As I was showering this morning, I heard the cats growling. Now, they growl pretty often at each other in play. But this was really loud. So loud that I shut off the shower to see if they were really growling or if it was in fact the furnace doing something crazy to alert me it was about to explode. When I got out they stopped growling and Mencken walked out of the bathroom.
Rinsed off, put on my glasses and a towel, went into the bedroom to dress.
Mencken is on the bed with his mousey. "Oh, Mencken," I say. "You've done a number on that mousey. It looks like he's falling apart. We should throw that one away and get you a new one from the stash."
I put out a finger to check the damage. Huh. This isn't fluff falling out. Those are REAL MOUSE CLAWS!
I shriek and shiver. I jump.
Mencken is really pleased with his mousey. He proceeds to try and beat it up a little more.
"Ack, NO!" I cry, afraid of disembowelment and blood and severed heads in the am.
I toss him in the red room and shut the door. Cain is now looking at the mousey that Mencken had been hogging and proceeds to take over where I had interrupted.
"Stop it!" I pick him up, go to the bathroom and get the largest wad of toilet paper ever. After several attempts I pick up the mouse by its tail and carry it down to the trash. I put the trash out on the back porch.
Yes, I realize that habit helped contribute to this mess.
I feed the cats, free Mencken, give him some praise.
Murder Inc. is in the house. Sugar Cain and Mouser Mencken. I feel like a gun moll. I need a cocktail ring, a martini glass, and a little necklace of their kills.
So, the cats really do love me.
As I was showering this morning, I heard the cats growling. Now, they growl pretty often at each other in play. But this was really loud. So loud that I shut off the shower to see if they were really growling or if it was in fact the furnace doing something crazy to alert me it was about to explode. When I got out they stopped growling and Mencken walked out of the bathroom.
Rinsed off, put on my glasses and a towel, went into the bedroom to dress.
Mencken is on the bed with his mousey. "Oh, Mencken," I say. "You've done a number on that mousey. It looks like he's falling apart. We should throw that one away and get you a new one from the stash."
I put out a finger to check the damage. Huh. This isn't fluff falling out. Those are REAL MOUSE CLAWS!
I shriek and shiver. I jump.
Mencken is really pleased with his mousey. He proceeds to try and beat it up a little more.
"Ack, NO!" I cry, afraid of disembowelment and blood and severed heads in the am.
I toss him in the red room and shut the door. Cain is now looking at the mousey that Mencken had been hogging and proceeds to take over where I had interrupted.
"Stop it!" I pick him up, go to the bathroom and get the largest wad of toilet paper ever. After several attempts I pick up the mouse by its tail and carry it down to the trash. I put the trash out on the back porch.
Yes, I realize that habit helped contribute to this mess.
I feed the cats, free Mencken, give him some praise.
Murder Inc. is in the house. Sugar Cain and Mouser Mencken. I feel like a gun moll. I need a cocktail ring, a martini glass, and a little necklace of their kills.
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Saturday Night Fun
About 10pm, the broom fell over in the kitchen. I was ready to yell at Cain for being on the countertop and going for the butter. He was already on the floor, growling a bit and he had something in his mouth, something with a long tail. A mouse! He finally caught a mouse!
See, Cain likes to lay facing the corner where 2 cabinets meet, in a very Blair Witch Project pose. And it's an old house, full of holes and I was sure there were mice around but as long as I didn't see them I was cool. And the benefit of having had a dozen different cats in residence over 3 1/2 years is that I am sure the mice let each other know that this is a CAT house and they should be careful. And some of you recall the previous times I saw that the cats had caught mice (if you don't I can repost the story) and what fun that was.
This is 3 years later. Cain weighs 20 pounds almost, and he's not that fat. And he gets excited and moves fast. No longer a kitten.
So he runs into the living room and I grab a paper towel to grab it by the tail. Oh dear God, it's not dead. Occasionally I have had thoughts of animal cruelty, of buying a mouse or a hamster to let it loose to let the cats stalk it, you know, for fun on their birthday or Christmas or something.
Because this clearly is fun. He is chasing the mouse, getting in front of it, wapping it with his paw, carrying it in his mouth. Cain ignores balls, feather on a stick bores him, fake mousies bore him. This is fun. Specs is all pissed, watching him, puzzled, clearly thinking "Boys! Do something tiny like catch a mouse and it's like they want you to let them boss you. Just eat it. Bite me!"
It has punctures in the side, but he hasn't broken the spine because it moves. It does its best to get away. He catches it again. Mousie gets into the kitchen and makes it down the back steps. Cain follows. I run after Cain. What the hell!
We're in the basement. Cain chases it around. I grab a bucket and a dustpan and try to corner it. I am not sure what we are going to do with it. Toss it outside to freeze to death?
Finally it runs over by the litter boxes and gets under one of the shelving units. Cain tries to convince it to come back out for another round. I scoop boxes and reflect.
And then we go to bed.
See, Cain likes to lay facing the corner where 2 cabinets meet, in a very Blair Witch Project pose. And it's an old house, full of holes and I was sure there were mice around but as long as I didn't see them I was cool. And the benefit of having had a dozen different cats in residence over 3 1/2 years is that I am sure the mice let each other know that this is a CAT house and they should be careful. And some of you recall the previous times I saw that the cats had caught mice (if you don't I can repost the story) and what fun that was.
This is 3 years later. Cain weighs 20 pounds almost, and he's not that fat. And he gets excited and moves fast. No longer a kitten.
So he runs into the living room and I grab a paper towel to grab it by the tail. Oh dear God, it's not dead. Occasionally I have had thoughts of animal cruelty, of buying a mouse or a hamster to let it loose to let the cats stalk it, you know, for fun on their birthday or Christmas or something.
Because this clearly is fun. He is chasing the mouse, getting in front of it, wapping it with his paw, carrying it in his mouth. Cain ignores balls, feather on a stick bores him, fake mousies bore him. This is fun. Specs is all pissed, watching him, puzzled, clearly thinking "Boys! Do something tiny like catch a mouse and it's like they want you to let them boss you. Just eat it. Bite me!"
It has punctures in the side, but he hasn't broken the spine because it moves. It does its best to get away. He catches it again. Mousie gets into the kitchen and makes it down the back steps. Cain follows. I run after Cain. What the hell!
We're in the basement. Cain chases it around. I grab a bucket and a dustpan and try to corner it. I am not sure what we are going to do with it. Toss it outside to freeze to death?
Finally it runs over by the litter boxes and gets under one of the shelving units. Cain tries to convince it to come back out for another round. I scoop boxes and reflect.
And then we go to bed.
Saturday, March 08, 2008
The Conversation We'd Have If You Called Me
Yes, it’s snowing.
Yup, it's a blizzard.
Like 12 inches? It was midcalf when I went out to shovel for the mailman. They say we’ll get 5 more or so today.
No, I can’t shovel until it stops snowing. It’s blowing. It’s pointless to shovel when it’s blowing. It’s uncomfortable and you don’t know where the damn drifts are. The drift between my house and the performance artists’ is about chest high. Seriously. And the snowplows come and you can barely get out of the driveway anyway because they push the snow up onto the apron and you're screwed.
It snowed this much last Easter.
Yes, I’ll think about calling THE PLOW GUY.
Yes. I am happy I bought a new winter coat, but it’s too nice to go out and shovel in. I still have the orange coat.
Well, the flooring dude is coming at 10 am on Monday, so I have to have the driveway clear for him.
I have food. And litter. Coffee. And projects. I went out yesterday for all that. I’m eating leftover birthday cake and I’m making potato leek soup. And I made meatlump yesterday.
You know, cleaning, packing, cooking, the usual.
Oh, Cain did something exciting this morning—he jumped up on this pile of boxes to get at the front window to check out THE SNOW, and his weight pushed them against the CD tower, which fell and pushed one of the chairs and he wound up with a curtain rod in his face like a gun. Startlingly reminiscent of the picture of the National Guardsman pointing the rifle with a flower stuck in the barrel at the hippie.
My birthday cake! I froze it since no one came over. It’s the last hunk.
Specs is on my lap right now. Whiny bitch.
Love you too.
Yup, it's a blizzard.
Like 12 inches? It was midcalf when I went out to shovel for the mailman. They say we’ll get 5 more or so today.
No, I can’t shovel until it stops snowing. It’s blowing. It’s pointless to shovel when it’s blowing. It’s uncomfortable and you don’t know where the damn drifts are. The drift between my house and the performance artists’ is about chest high. Seriously. And the snowplows come and you can barely get out of the driveway anyway because they push the snow up onto the apron and you're screwed.
It snowed this much last Easter.
Yes, I’ll think about calling THE PLOW GUY.
Yes. I am happy I bought a new winter coat, but it’s too nice to go out and shovel in. I still have the orange coat.
Well, the flooring dude is coming at 10 am on Monday, so I have to have the driveway clear for him.
I have food. And litter. Coffee. And projects. I went out yesterday for all that. I’m eating leftover birthday cake and I’m making potato leek soup. And I made meatlump yesterday.
You know, cleaning, packing, cooking, the usual.
Oh, Cain did something exciting this morning—he jumped up on this pile of boxes to get at the front window to check out THE SNOW, and his weight pushed them against the CD tower, which fell and pushed one of the chairs and he wound up with a curtain rod in his face like a gun. Startlingly reminiscent of the picture of the National Guardsman pointing the rifle with a flower stuck in the barrel at the hippie.
My birthday cake! I froze it since no one came over. It’s the last hunk.
Specs is on my lap right now. Whiny bitch.
Love you too.
Friday, March 07, 2008
Nightlife, Moonshine, Madhouse--Rob Thurman (Cal Leandros Novels)
I heard about these books from Jia's review of Madhouse over at Dear Author. Damn, I am thankful for the recommendation, even if these books provided too much of a distraction. How much of a distraction? Not only did I get the first two books from the library and DEVOUR them, I went out and bought the third and I am not allowed to go and buy books, especially if I am paying a full $7 for it. It was totally worth it. And fantasy is usually not my thing. Having spent too much time around the LARP crowd, I am so burnt out on the angsty, the monsters, vampires, werewolves, oh my! and retread stories about souls and demons and blah, blah, blah that 3 years later I will kick you in the shins if that sort of shit comes up.
Or maybe it's being older that you have no patience for such. It started to decline after I broke my arm, I know that. That's when everything changed.
But anyway--back to the awesome stories!
Cal Leandros and his older brother Niko are on the run. Truthfully, they've been on the run their whole lives--when your mom is a Gypsy con artist/whore, staying long in one place is not an option. However, for the past 4 years they've been on the run from creatures they call "Grendels," one of which is Cal's father. The last time they all met up, Cal vanished for 2 days and came back 2 years older, with no memory of where he'd been or what happened. Recent Grendel sightings have them looking to leave New York, despite the assurances of their psychic friend Georgina King that they should stay. Hunting for a car, they meet puck/used car salesman Robin Goodfellow, who identifies Cal as part Auphe (the basis for the elven myths, only not hot like Orlando Bloom and much more into killing things.) Nice. Rob's good sorts, which is helpful because the Auphe have a plan that they shortly put into action that leaves Cal not in control of himself. Oh dear.
Moonshine has the brothers living a semi-normal life: Cal is mostly recovered from the trauma of Nightlife, Niko's gone back to college and got a girlfriend, and the three of them have a supernatural fix-it/detective agency thing going, with Robin Goodfellow hanging around to help and amuse. Cal is also being pursued by George King, and doing his best to elude that relationship for fear of the Auphe and "You really want to find daycare for a flesh-eating baby? I think they charge extra when your kid goes cannibal during naptime." Things get rough when they agree to do a job for a werewolf, who decides to make sure he gets good results by kidnapping George to ensure compliance and sends Cal undercover. Yikes.
Madhouse has the brothers facing off against the famous "cannibal" Sawney Bean (he eats people, but he's a Red Cap, not a human. He's also the inspiration for the Reivers in Firefly.) And someone's making attempts on Goodfellow's life. Sawney Bean's got a special liking for Cal, whose mental health is strained, what with the events of the previous books, and this whole being connected to people thing is new and very stressful.
As you can see, there's a lot of fantasy cheese factor in these stories. Let me count the types:
Gypsies!
Hot brothers who spend all their spare cash on weaponry!
Hot angsty sarcastic men with ISSUES!
Vampires, werewolves and monsters, oh my!
The whoring, drinking, cheating, stealing puck with a mastery of the lewd remark!
Half human/half monster!
Sorry, I had to fan myself. Here's the deal--I know logically much of this seems over the top. But surprisingly, it really works for me. I spent some time analyzing why, and it's because Thurman does such a great job of balancing all aspects of her tale. Okay the plot of Moonshine wanders, but I didn't notice it until after. She's got tightly written fight scenes, plenty of action, and good pacing within the stories. Robin's a great source of humor, and so is Cal's sarcastic first person narration. And I appreciate that in her world the supernatural races are born and just exist, no angsty vamping or wolfing necessary.
And there's character grounding and development, which I'm always a sucker for. Niko's overachieving, supercontrolled, overprotective nature and Cal's crappy self-esteem and perpetual guilt owe as much to having a neglectful, alcoholic mom as to the events of the books. Cal is particular is an evolving character that Thurman's got on the Hero's Journey. He's very much the younger brother in the first book, but by Madhouse he's moving out of Niko's shadow and making independent choices that he knows might not be best, but what he he feels he has to do. He also feels greater connection and responsibility to the victims that he and Niko encounter, and tries to right things.
So if you like the sound of this, you might also like Bill Willingham's Fables for the novel character development and humor, Simon R. Green and Charles de Lint for urban fantasy settings. Heck, throw in Neil Gaiman too.
And you know what hit me around Madhouse? These books are a lot like Robert B. Parker's Spenser series. No, really. Lone wolf detective, deadly silent companion, idealized female love interest, sarcasm, and a little sap.
Or maybe it's being older that you have no patience for such. It started to decline after I broke my arm, I know that. That's when everything changed.
But anyway--back to the awesome stories!
Cal Leandros and his older brother Niko are on the run. Truthfully, they've been on the run their whole lives--when your mom is a Gypsy con artist/whore, staying long in one place is not an option. However, for the past 4 years they've been on the run from creatures they call "Grendels," one of which is Cal's father. The last time they all met up, Cal vanished for 2 days and came back 2 years older, with no memory of where he'd been or what happened. Recent Grendel sightings have them looking to leave New York, despite the assurances of their psychic friend Georgina King that they should stay. Hunting for a car, they meet puck/used car salesman Robin Goodfellow, who identifies Cal as part Auphe (the basis for the elven myths, only not hot like Orlando Bloom and much more into killing things.) Nice. Rob's good sorts, which is helpful because the Auphe have a plan that they shortly put into action that leaves Cal not in control of himself. Oh dear.
Moonshine has the brothers living a semi-normal life: Cal is mostly recovered from the trauma of Nightlife, Niko's gone back to college and got a girlfriend, and the three of them have a supernatural fix-it/detective agency thing going, with Robin Goodfellow hanging around to help and amuse. Cal is also being pursued by George King, and doing his best to elude that relationship for fear of the Auphe and "You really want to find daycare for a flesh-eating baby? I think they charge extra when your kid goes cannibal during naptime." Things get rough when they agree to do a job for a werewolf, who decides to make sure he gets good results by kidnapping George to ensure compliance and sends Cal undercover. Yikes.
Madhouse has the brothers facing off against the famous "cannibal" Sawney Bean (he eats people, but he's a Red Cap, not a human. He's also the inspiration for the Reivers in Firefly.) And someone's making attempts on Goodfellow's life. Sawney Bean's got a special liking for Cal, whose mental health is strained, what with the events of the previous books, and this whole being connected to people thing is new and very stressful.
As you can see, there's a lot of fantasy cheese factor in these stories. Let me count the types:
Gypsies!
Hot brothers who spend all their spare cash on weaponry!
Hot angsty sarcastic men with ISSUES!
Vampires, werewolves and monsters, oh my!
The whoring, drinking, cheating, stealing puck with a mastery of the lewd remark!
Half human/half monster!
Sorry, I had to fan myself. Here's the deal--I know logically much of this seems over the top. But surprisingly, it really works for me. I spent some time analyzing why, and it's because Thurman does such a great job of balancing all aspects of her tale. Okay the plot of Moonshine wanders, but I didn't notice it until after. She's got tightly written fight scenes, plenty of action, and good pacing within the stories. Robin's a great source of humor, and so is Cal's sarcastic first person narration. And I appreciate that in her world the supernatural races are born and just exist, no angsty vamping or wolfing necessary.
And there's character grounding and development, which I'm always a sucker for. Niko's overachieving, supercontrolled, overprotective nature and Cal's crappy self-esteem and perpetual guilt owe as much to having a neglectful, alcoholic mom as to the events of the books. Cal is particular is an evolving character that Thurman's got on the Hero's Journey. He's very much the younger brother in the first book, but by Madhouse he's moving out of Niko's shadow and making independent choices that he knows might not be best, but what he he feels he has to do. He also feels greater connection and responsibility to the victims that he and Niko encounter, and tries to right things.
So if you like the sound of this, you might also like Bill Willingham's Fables for the novel character development and humor, Simon R. Green and Charles de Lint for urban fantasy settings. Heck, throw in Neil Gaiman too.
And you know what hit me around Madhouse? These books are a lot like Robert B. Parker's Spenser series. No, really. Lone wolf detective, deadly silent companion, idealized female love interest, sarcasm, and a little sap.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Blitzkreig Book Reviews: The MINX Stinks Edition
I've written about DC Comics' Minx line before. I am mostly unimpressed by its offerings, but figured that I should take advantage of the Cleveland Public Library while I can to check out the rest of the line before I move.
If you haven't heard, Minx was a line pitched to teen girls, not a traditionally big audience for comic book readership, but one that's become major consumers of manga. Why will girls read manga and not comic books? Both capitalize on a love of serialized stories, the ability to pay attention to nuance and wait for a payoff, and the general push towards alternate media format for storytelling. But here's the rub--not everyone has a Carol & John's in their neighborhood. Manga gets sold at the big box bookstores, and YA librarians buy it. You don't have to brave the boy's club atmosphere at the comics shop, the often unreliable publishing schedules, and comics can be intimidating with their inner workings of artists, lines and who does what. Despite fertile areas of cross platform adaptation of intellectual property in using characters and stories in tv and film, comics themselves are suffering from a lack of readership and shrinking long term business prospects.* So Minx is an idea to serve as a gateway to comics and open up new readership to the industry. There's been criticism about the ghettoization of girls implicit in this approach, but I'm okay with that. Face it, men and women sometimes want different things in their reading material. Everyone wants a good read, it's just what may be satisfying to them that differs. Even keeping that in mind, I'm frustrated with Minx Books. I love the ideas, but the execution is mostly crap. And I fear that it may be too late to make improvements, since there's no information on 2008 releases or any information on any new titles available from Minx at the website or mentioned in any of the press releases I saw.
Here's a roundup of thoughts on the last three books published in 2007:
Good As Lily by Derek Kirk Kim & Jesse Hamm: This book is just a mess. The title refers to the protagonist's older sister, who died at the age of 6. However, this bit of information is imparted and the importance of which is resolved in approximately 4 pages, which leaves us with 140 pages of plot about something else entirely. Hint for writers--your title should be related to the plot of the book in some way. This plot is about Grace Kwon, who gets hit on the head by a stubborn pinata at her 18th birthday party, and later that night runs into her 5 year old, 29 year old and 70 year old self. So she hides them from her parents in her bedroom and proceeds to live her normal life, which involves her crush on the drama teacher, ignoring the friend with the hots for her and something about the school play. The plot's an incomprehensible mess, the characters are paper thin, there's no logic or motivation to the story, and as a reader I felt cheated and irritated.
Confessions of A Blabbermouth by Mike & Louise Carey, illustrated by Aaron Alexovich: Mike Carey wrote The Re-Gifters which is the one Minx product that I thought really knocked it out of the park. This book is less emotionally engaging and rather predictable, but a good effort. Teenage Tasha's a blogger extraordinaire, but her home life gets messy when her mom gets serious with her asshole boyfriend J.D. , who comes complete with an annoying daughter Chloe. Both seem to be weirdly threatened by Tasha's writing, and share a secret of their own. A tightly plotted story that is tissue thin on development, but Tasha's got a well-written narrative voice. Alexovich's illustrations are enjoyably energetic and spiky.
Kimmie66 by Aaron Alexovich: Set in the future, this story is a cautionary tale of where too much dependence on online personas and too little human interaction will lead us. I should be all over this, right? Except that the telling is a little ham handed. Anyway, Telly is a teenage girl who spends most of her life online in a Goth lair. She starts to question reality and online life when her best friend online, Kimmie66, commits suicide. This leads her to investigate Kimmie's offline life and seek connection to other people. I had problems getting into the story and connecting with the characters, but it's certainly a better written tale than some of the others and would provoke discussion about online life and behavior.
*So I'm thinking of writing a comic publishing industry analysis for my professional portfolio. Any interest in reading it?
If you haven't heard, Minx was a line pitched to teen girls, not a traditionally big audience for comic book readership, but one that's become major consumers of manga. Why will girls read manga and not comic books? Both capitalize on a love of serialized stories, the ability to pay attention to nuance and wait for a payoff, and the general push towards alternate media format for storytelling. But here's the rub--not everyone has a Carol & John's in their neighborhood. Manga gets sold at the big box bookstores, and YA librarians buy it. You don't have to brave the boy's club atmosphere at the comics shop, the often unreliable publishing schedules, and comics can be intimidating with their inner workings of artists, lines and who does what. Despite fertile areas of cross platform adaptation of intellectual property in using characters and stories in tv and film, comics themselves are suffering from a lack of readership and shrinking long term business prospects.* So Minx is an idea to serve as a gateway to comics and open up new readership to the industry. There's been criticism about the ghettoization of girls implicit in this approach, but I'm okay with that. Face it, men and women sometimes want different things in their reading material. Everyone wants a good read, it's just what may be satisfying to them that differs. Even keeping that in mind, I'm frustrated with Minx Books. I love the ideas, but the execution is mostly crap. And I fear that it may be too late to make improvements, since there's no information on 2008 releases or any information on any new titles available from Minx at the website or mentioned in any of the press releases I saw.
Here's a roundup of thoughts on the last three books published in 2007:
Good As Lily by Derek Kirk Kim & Jesse Hamm: This book is just a mess. The title refers to the protagonist's older sister, who died at the age of 6. However, this bit of information is imparted and the importance of which is resolved in approximately 4 pages, which leaves us with 140 pages of plot about something else entirely. Hint for writers--your title should be related to the plot of the book in some way. This plot is about Grace Kwon, who gets hit on the head by a stubborn pinata at her 18th birthday party, and later that night runs into her 5 year old, 29 year old and 70 year old self. So she hides them from her parents in her bedroom and proceeds to live her normal life, which involves her crush on the drama teacher, ignoring the friend with the hots for her and something about the school play. The plot's an incomprehensible mess, the characters are paper thin, there's no logic or motivation to the story, and as a reader I felt cheated and irritated.
Confessions of A Blabbermouth by Mike & Louise Carey, illustrated by Aaron Alexovich: Mike Carey wrote The Re-Gifters which is the one Minx product that I thought really knocked it out of the park. This book is less emotionally engaging and rather predictable, but a good effort. Teenage Tasha's a blogger extraordinaire, but her home life gets messy when her mom gets serious with her asshole boyfriend J.D. , who comes complete with an annoying daughter Chloe. Both seem to be weirdly threatened by Tasha's writing, and share a secret of their own. A tightly plotted story that is tissue thin on development, but Tasha's got a well-written narrative voice. Alexovich's illustrations are enjoyably energetic and spiky.
Kimmie66 by Aaron Alexovich: Set in the future, this story is a cautionary tale of where too much dependence on online personas and too little human interaction will lead us. I should be all over this, right? Except that the telling is a little ham handed. Anyway, Telly is a teenage girl who spends most of her life online in a Goth lair. She starts to question reality and online life when her best friend online, Kimmie66, commits suicide. This leads her to investigate Kimmie's offline life and seek connection to other people. I had problems getting into the story and connecting with the characters, but it's certainly a better written tale than some of the others and would provoke discussion about online life and behavior.
*So I'm thinking of writing a comic publishing industry analysis for my professional portfolio. Any interest in reading it?
Well, That Explains It
So I felt kinda weird all day today, took a nap in the late afternoon, felt maybe a little nauseated in the early evening, but chalked it up to pain from my arm since the weather is bad. But all was revealed when I hit the tub to shave my legs.
Migraine. I got the snakey aura while in the tub.
Lovely.
Migraine. I got the snakey aura while in the tub.
Lovely.
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Frozen In
So I made it out yesterday and voted, plus hit the Recycling Center to drop off old computer and parts, the library, and got myself some flowers. My mom was right, you can't count Hillary out. Or freakin' Kuchinich! Then I worked on tearing up the old carpet padding in the basement. Finished! But my shoulder hurts.
However, I am now frozen in with my half inch of ice and 4 inches of snow.
Here is my girl Specs. She is cranky because she wants fresh! wet food, damn it and not the stuff I put out this afternoon. And it's 10pm, time to go to bed and sleep. She has captured the territory of The Warm Bed away from Cain. They growl and shriek at each other.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Kerry Reads The Paper!
A few thigs that caught my eye in the news this week...
Gary Gygax Dead--So what time do we meet over at Case for the candlelight vigil?
Fur Flies At A Beauty Pagent (But It's Not What You Think) is one of those awesome stories that the Washington Post does so well. I did not know that the muskrat trapping industry was at one time so big in Maryland that it spawned both a Muskrat Queen and muskrat skinner competition. Fascinating. Look, if I'm the judge and you skin a muskrat as your talent at the beauty competition, you're taking home the crown and scholarship based on your creativity and awesomeness. Blood under the fingernails be damned.
Dusie jokes that she wants a family compound, and certainly The Don would have loved that, but these people make it sound like a workable option.
In my news: The Don was right--a snow shovel is the least backbreaking and most effective way to remove a 30 year old layer of cheap carpet padding stuck to the basement floor (although if a cat with the feline physique of a Ralph Lauren model could tear it up, why should I doubt I can do it?), the Obama campaign here in Cleveland is a class act, librarians are annoying me, Amy Winehouse=Shane McGown circa 1989, all Dropkick Murphy songs sound alike, what's up with men posting like they're cute and turning out not handsome?, my shoulder hurts, and eh.
Gary Gygax Dead--So what time do we meet over at Case for the candlelight vigil?
Fur Flies At A Beauty Pagent (But It's Not What You Think) is one of those awesome stories that the Washington Post does so well. I did not know that the muskrat trapping industry was at one time so big in Maryland that it spawned both a Muskrat Queen and muskrat skinner competition. Fascinating. Look, if I'm the judge and you skin a muskrat as your talent at the beauty competition, you're taking home the crown and scholarship based on your creativity and awesomeness. Blood under the fingernails be damned.
Dusie jokes that she wants a family compound, and certainly The Don would have loved that, but these people make it sound like a workable option.
In my news: The Don was right--a snow shovel is the least backbreaking and most effective way to remove a 30 year old layer of cheap carpet padding stuck to the basement floor (although if a cat with the feline physique of a Ralph Lauren model could tear it up, why should I doubt I can do it?), the Obama campaign here in Cleveland is a class act, librarians are annoying me, Amy Winehouse=Shane McGown circa 1989, all Dropkick Murphy songs sound alike, what's up with men posting like they're cute and turning out not handsome?, my shoulder hurts, and eh.
Saturday, March 01, 2008
Sorting Through The Memories
I threw out most of the last of my alcohol tonight. I gave the Romance Heroine a bottle of sloe gin and a large bottle of regular gin, but I had some cheap sherry and vermouth (which goes bad) that went down the sink. I paused at the bottle of Gordon's Citrus Vodka because I remembered the circumstances under which it was purchased. In May 2000, I drove to Baltimore to go to Dusie's graduation, and I hit the hotel at a point which no one in my family was there so I couldn't get into the room. I was rumpled and hot and cranky. And no one had a cell phone then, so I was out of luck. I wound up walking over to the nearest strip mall to get something to read and eat, and thank heavens there was a liquor store because I could tell already that I was going to start running out of patience right quick. Later that night I was in the room with Aces and had it with some awful citrus soda. More recently I have mixed the vodka with homemade lemonade, still warm. Ambrosial.
The next day I had to help Dusie cover her tattoo with fancy makeup so my Dad wouldn't see it. Strangely, that was a pretty good graduation. Aces graduated the next year in North Carolina and that was an even better trip. My mom had found a state park near Durham (I think it was Pilot Mountain State Park) that had cheap, cool cabins. However, I had no clue which cabin, and no way to reach them so my dad was waiting out by the front sign for me to show up.
Later we picked up Aces and went out to dinner, which lead to frantic phone calls between Dusie and my Dad since we were in different cars.
"What do you see, Dusie? "
"Trees, Daddy! I see trees!"
Ah, the strip malls of Winston-Salem and the joys of rural development. We took our leftovers to feed Aces' favorite ferals out by the dumpster at the donut place. The next day I suffered through the graduation, and it's the last one I will ever have to attend if I don't have kids. Thank goodness.
The next day I had to help Dusie cover her tattoo with fancy makeup so my Dad wouldn't see it. Strangely, that was a pretty good graduation. Aces graduated the next year in North Carolina and that was an even better trip. My mom had found a state park near Durham (I think it was Pilot Mountain State Park) that had cheap, cool cabins. However, I had no clue which cabin, and no way to reach them so my dad was waiting out by the front sign for me to show up.
Later we picked up Aces and went out to dinner, which lead to frantic phone calls between Dusie and my Dad since we were in different cars.
"What do you see, Dusie? "
"Trees, Daddy! I see trees!"
Ah, the strip malls of Winston-Salem and the joys of rural development. We took our leftovers to feed Aces' favorite ferals out by the dumpster at the donut place. The next day I suffered through the graduation, and it's the last one I will ever have to attend if I don't have kids. Thank goodness.
Is It Me, Or Is It Cleveland?
So I was over at the West Side Market, in line at City Roast, and the woman from Reilly's came over and got in line behind me. It was a long line, it always is, and after a minute she started fretting that she couldn't leave her stand for too long.
"Give me your money and tell me what you want" I said. "I'll get it for you and bring it back."
"Are you sure?"
"Well, yeah. Besides we have this relationship based on my weekly addiction to the empire biscuits." And I pulled my hand out of my pocket to show her one I had just bought, because nothing's better than the vanilla latte and an empire biscuit.
She laughed at me and handed me a tenner and told me what kind of coffee to get her and said thanks.
Those of you who've known me a while knows that this sort of thing happens a lot. I start conversations with strangers, I offer to help, I joke, I smile, and people mostly talk to me. The question is this: is it me or is it Cleveland? Is Cleveland a friendly town?
Because I like this aspect of my personality, and I don't want to lose it. I don't want to wind up cranky and intolerant and businesslike. And I worry that when I move I'll be in a new place and people will be unfriendly and mean and I'll be out of place again. Even if I am out of place in Cleveland, I at least know the town. Back in the NJ area, I get the feeling that this bubbly flirtiness isn't appreciated, or maybe it just wasn't appreciated coming from me.
The thing is, that I do this at all is sort of a huge 180 from my personality when I was young. I was shy, incredibly socially awkward, was bullied, teased, stalked, and taken advantage of numerous times. I was a weirdo. I have lots of anxiety and I'm introverted and talking to people, even simple things like asking the time or directions, stressed me out. The only talking I could do was in English class. Social anxiety is a bitch. Now it's only bigger talking to people that freaks me out, which is a huge improvement. Like online dating. I know, I know.
"Give me your money and tell me what you want" I said. "I'll get it for you and bring it back."
"Are you sure?"
"Well, yeah. Besides we have this relationship based on my weekly addiction to the empire biscuits." And I pulled my hand out of my pocket to show her one I had just bought, because nothing's better than the vanilla latte and an empire biscuit.
She laughed at me and handed me a tenner and told me what kind of coffee to get her and said thanks.
Those of you who've known me a while knows that this sort of thing happens a lot. I start conversations with strangers, I offer to help, I joke, I smile, and people mostly talk to me. The question is this: is it me or is it Cleveland? Is Cleveland a friendly town?
Because I like this aspect of my personality, and I don't want to lose it. I don't want to wind up cranky and intolerant and businesslike. And I worry that when I move I'll be in a new place and people will be unfriendly and mean and I'll be out of place again. Even if I am out of place in Cleveland, I at least know the town. Back in the NJ area, I get the feeling that this bubbly flirtiness isn't appreciated, or maybe it just wasn't appreciated coming from me.
The thing is, that I do this at all is sort of a huge 180 from my personality when I was young. I was shy, incredibly socially awkward, was bullied, teased, stalked, and taken advantage of numerous times. I was a weirdo. I have lots of anxiety and I'm introverted and talking to people, even simple things like asking the time or directions, stressed me out. The only talking I could do was in English class. Social anxiety is a bitch. Now it's only bigger talking to people that freaks me out, which is a huge improvement. Like online dating. I know, I know.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
What Do You Keep?
I'm not having too much trouble disposing of my books. Cookbooks--keeping only the functional, and I have almost decided having several years of Cooking Light is a Dumb Idea. Fiction--keeping only what I have a strong attachment to. THe same for the children's books, and also keeping only the stuff that's really out of print. However, I have a lot of vintage etiquette and advice books that I'm on the fence about keeping. Logically I should ebay them, and once it's done I'm pretty sure I won't miss them, but I still feel conflicted.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Bargain Bride--Evelyn Sibley Lampman
This book sparked my interest in the westward expansion and the suffragette movement as a kid. I found a copy of it at the big Case book sale several years ago and bought it immediately to see if it held up. It's not an ambitious or great book, but an enjoyable read and good for Women's History Month.
The story opens on Ginny Mayhew's 15th birthday, the day her husband comes to collect her. Ginny was married off to him at the age of 10 after her parents died on the trip out west to Oregon. See, the homesteading laws gave twice the acreage to married couples as it would to a single man, and with very few single women out in the territory they'd marry off girls as young as 5. And those girls' share of land would belong to their husband due to the property laws of the time. Nice. Selling Ginny to Stephen Mayhew paid for her cousins' farm, and ironically she's better off with a husband in his 40's who she barely knows. He's a successful farmer, and even built her a real house. He also dies of a stroke when they get to the farm (convenient!)
Ginny takes advantage of her independence as a widow to break ties with her cousin and take in Nona, the Indian "wife" of her nearest neighbor who has been set aside with their baby after his legal marriage to a white woman. Notice a theme here? This requires lots of lying to the neighbors because a teenage widow living out on a farm with an Indian woman is NOT DONE. Together they make it through the winter and into the courting season, as the gentlemen show up to court Ginny and are equally interested in her body and her land. The book peters out about halfway through the winter, and wraps up quickly in a perfunctory manner, but eh. What else can you do stuck out on a farm in the Oregon Territory?
Quick aside--I sold my copy on half.com this week to someone with a userid that indicates she might be part of the Quiverfull movement, and I just found it funny as I am one of those secular feminist types with an interest in women's issues spurred in part by this book and well, it just takes all kinds, let's say.
The story opens on Ginny Mayhew's 15th birthday, the day her husband comes to collect her. Ginny was married off to him at the age of 10 after her parents died on the trip out west to Oregon. See, the homesteading laws gave twice the acreage to married couples as it would to a single man, and with very few single women out in the territory they'd marry off girls as young as 5. And those girls' share of land would belong to their husband due to the property laws of the time. Nice. Selling Ginny to Stephen Mayhew paid for her cousins' farm, and ironically she's better off with a husband in his 40's who she barely knows. He's a successful farmer, and even built her a real house. He also dies of a stroke when they get to the farm (convenient!)
Ginny takes advantage of her independence as a widow to break ties with her cousin and take in Nona, the Indian "wife" of her nearest neighbor who has been set aside with their baby after his legal marriage to a white woman. Notice a theme here? This requires lots of lying to the neighbors because a teenage widow living out on a farm with an Indian woman is NOT DONE. Together they make it through the winter and into the courting season, as the gentlemen show up to court Ginny and are equally interested in her body and her land. The book peters out about halfway through the winter, and wraps up quickly in a perfunctory manner, but eh. What else can you do stuck out on a farm in the Oregon Territory?
Quick aside--I sold my copy on half.com this week to someone with a userid that indicates she might be part of the Quiverfull movement, and I just found it funny as I am one of those secular feminist types with an interest in women's issues spurred in part by this book and well, it just takes all kinds, let's say.
Tight Times--Barbara Shook Hazan
In honor of Our Upcoming Economic Collapse, I wanted to draw some attention to this book from 1979. It's got a good little applicable message --the 5 year old narrator tries to understand why his mom and dad are so tense, he can't have a dog, and why he has to eat lima bean things as the family pulls together when they're broke.
What really makes the book is Trina Schart Hyman's pencil drawings and how they convey the delightful 1970's-ness of the story. They're done in b&w with nice detail, and they really do look like what I remember my childhood seeming.
I mean, on the first page Mommy's on the bed in her bra sewing a button on her blouse before going to work, and Mommy's got little rolls of fat. Mommy also has huge glasses. After Daddy loses his job, "Then Daddy fixed us both special drinks" and it's obvious that Daddy's drink comes from the economy sized bottle vodka behind him. Shades of Sesame Street, Mommy and Daddy send their boy out onto the stoop to wait while they talk about their troubles. When's the last time you saw any of this in media aimed at kids?
A good book for kids, but one that GenX might also get a kick out of.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Kerry Reads The Paper!
What did I say 2 years ago? I said "Why the hell are they casting HPV and the new vaccine as a women's issue? If you're so worried about acceptance of the vaccine because it gasp! prevents disease spread by sex, then pitch it as a simple public health issue that affects everyone. Vaccinate both transmission vectors, because both sides get it! Fucking sexism!"
Yeah, so people looked at me all funny and then this comes out. Ha!
Further gripe--look, talk to your kids about sex or don't (my parents didn't at all, but I turned out okay) but for god's sake don't go around giving them really awful mixed messages like "you won't be be having sex until you've been married a long time." All that does is show how greatly disturbed you are. It's not cute.
Morons.
Oh, and genital warts? Good scare tactic. Having worked on a drug campaign for something that treats them and looked at lots and lots of b&w photos of outbreaks, I'm completely traumatized. Show your kids color pics and really freak them out.
Yeah, so people looked at me all funny and then this comes out. Ha!
Further gripe--look, talk to your kids about sex or don't (my parents didn't at all, but I turned out okay) but for god's sake don't go around giving them really awful mixed messages like "you won't be be having sex until you've been married a long time." All that does is show how greatly disturbed you are. It's not cute.
Morons.
Oh, and genital warts? Good scare tactic. Having worked on a drug campaign for something that treats them and looked at lots and lots of b&w photos of outbreaks, I'm completely traumatized. Show your kids color pics and really freak them out.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Specs
This is Specs. You want to adopt her. She was living rough around my house for almost a year. I kept leaving wet food out for her and last month when it got below zero she let me pick her up and bring her in. She's been vaccinated, defleaed, dewormed and is in good health. And even though she's got boy coloring, she's 100% girl. Just look at the eyeliner around her eyes!
She's a small cat with a lot of personality. She talks a lot, saying "Nao!" and meowing, giving her loud purr and snoring softly. She is very lazy, a dedicated lap cat who wants you to hold her like a baby and rub her face and tell her she's cute. She likes to hide her face in the crook of my arm. She's not too fond of Cain, but they can occupy the same house. She has one super bad habit, which is nipping at hands when frustrated or scared. She's not biting to hurt, but biting to warn. I have been employing the "No! Bad kitty!" and putting her down whenever she bites or moves in that direction. She's made a lot of progress.
She's a sweetheart. Give her a chance!
Good Stuff Cleveland
Two business that I've patronized lately that deserve some attention:
Paper Trails (Rocky River)--As some of you know, my aunt is pretty sick and somewhat housebound. When I was visiting last week, I asked what I could do to brighten the days--daily email, books, phone call? She and MFA Jane demurred on all but the suggestion of a daily letter (oh, and sign up and pay for online dating already, Kerry! Amuse us with tales of the mens of Cleveland and Arizona!) was received with some enthusiasm. Lacking writing materials, I trotted over to Paper Trails. It is a neat little store. Most of it is high quality cards and cute writing accouterments. They did not have what I wanted on the shelf, which was plain 8 x 11 writing paper. But don't fret! They were able to get me what I really wanted--white stationery with my initials in red at the top with matching envelopes! It was special order printing and they did it within 3 days. (I asked for this for Christmas, but no one thought I was actually serious about wanting this.) Go over and check it out and say hi to Katie! She'll set you up nicely.
So--anybody want a letter?
Cakes Plus (Fairview Park)--A long time ago, I had the world's best cake, made by a woman who make crepes in the Arcade downtown. She moved to one of the other arcades and started selling brownies and cakes only, and they are seriously the best brownies, ever. They have the textural consistency of butter with real chocolate and sugar and a little flour to make the concept of eating soft chocolate butter appetizing. Cakes Plus is open Thursday-Saturday for walk-in brownies, but she also sends them by mail. It's expensive, but Aunt Marry Jane and MFA Jane agreed--best ever. Delicious. Seriously, you can eat them every day for a week and still not be tired. Okay, I realize that me and mine are not people who could ever not eat something rich and delicious for days and get tired of it, but still.
Paper Trails (Rocky River)--As some of you know, my aunt is pretty sick and somewhat housebound. When I was visiting last week, I asked what I could do to brighten the days--daily email, books, phone call? She and MFA Jane demurred on all but the suggestion of a daily letter (oh, and sign up and pay for online dating already, Kerry! Amuse us with tales of the mens of Cleveland and Arizona!) was received with some enthusiasm. Lacking writing materials, I trotted over to Paper Trails. It is a neat little store. Most of it is high quality cards and cute writing accouterments. They did not have what I wanted on the shelf, which was plain 8 x 11 writing paper. But don't fret! They were able to get me what I really wanted--white stationery with my initials in red at the top with matching envelopes! It was special order printing and they did it within 3 days. (I asked for this for Christmas, but no one thought I was actually serious about wanting this.) Go over and check it out and say hi to Katie! She'll set you up nicely.
So--anybody want a letter?
Cakes Plus (Fairview Park)--A long time ago, I had the world's best cake, made by a woman who make crepes in the Arcade downtown. She moved to one of the other arcades and started selling brownies and cakes only, and they are seriously the best brownies, ever. They have the textural consistency of butter with real chocolate and sugar and a little flour to make the concept of eating soft chocolate butter appetizing. Cakes Plus is open Thursday-Saturday for walk-in brownies, but she also sends them by mail. It's expensive, but Aunt Marry Jane and MFA Jane agreed--best ever. Delicious. Seriously, you can eat them every day for a week and still not be tired. Okay, I realize that me and mine are not people who could ever not eat something rich and delicious for days and get tired of it, but still.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Movie Review: The Big Easy
Aftereffects of Valentine's Day: I put The Big Easy(1987) on hold at the library. I saw it for the first time on cable maybe a year or so after it came out, so I would have been about 12 or 13. It is the first movie I think I ever watched and though, "huh, this is sexy." It may have cemented my love of Southern music and skinny men with wolfish grins.
If you've never seen it, it's a pretty good noir thriller set down in New Orleans. Well, New Orleans--the movie just breaks your heart right there. It's got a great cast--Dennis Quaid, Ellen Barkin, Ned Beatty, John Goodman, Grace Zabriskie. It's an odd movie in that there's actually conversations amongst the characters. Am I the only one who watches movies these days and and wishes for more dialogue? It seems like scenes in which characters converse have been replaced by music videos and there's an over reliance on music to convey emotion and manipulate the viewer. (Case in point: Juno.)
So the plot is this: there's corruption in the New Orleans Police Department. There's also some activity amongst the organized crime in the area, the usual drug smuggling and murdering. Oh yeah, it's connected. DA Anne Osbourne is investigating the cops which puts her in the path of Lt. Remy McSwain and his sliding scale of personal morality. He seduces her and then she prosecutes him on corruption charges, then they fight a bit and investigate together and the cold hard slap of truth wakes McSwain up to the evils of the petty corruption and how it slides into your soul and grows when you are not watching. That and true love, cherie.
Here's the rub--you think from the description above that it's a big ol' boy film and the girl's just along as eye candy, right? Oh no. The film doesn't work without the strong characterization of Anne. She's definitely flustered by McSwain (hello, wolfish grin, six pack abs and amazing hands!) but she stands up to him on how he uses his position as a cop to score favors and accept bribes. She prosecutes him without hesitation after she sees him taking a bribe, although not without regret. The girl's tough even when she trembles, foiling a mugging, smashing a car window and in the end being a full participant in saving herself. Throughout the movie you believe that Anne's smart, she's good at her job and generally got it together--mostly a good role model. The best bit is when she lays into McSwain with the words "Don't you dare be amused by me." And after a point, even though it's layered over with his desire to bed her, as a viewer you realize that, yes, he does respect her. Huh. And that's just one of the sexy bits.
There's a couple of things in the film you just do not see anymore. The clothes are spectacularly bad, especially for the women. The mid 80's were a time of shoulder pads and baggy skirts. The one female homicide cop wears primary colored men's clothing, including a tie. And that's just in the first scene. Anne's business suits look to be 2 sizes too big, which is in tune with her reserved, business-like character. The other thing is that she looks like a working adult--when's the last time on tv or in a film you saw a female attorney in conservative dress that didn't show off her figure? You have to remember that this movie came 20 years ago and that yes, the clothes reflect the time but also the position of women. A woman in power in the DA's office didn't get there in a lowcut blouse. I did however have shuddering flashbacks at the size of her reading glasses--every picture of me as a kid has me in similar owl glasses that overpowered my face. There's also a scene when Remy is discussing his arrest and suspension with his younger brother, who then pulls out a joint--holy casual drug use without censor, man!
It's a fun movie with great storytelling that just flows along. If you haven't seen it, check it out. If you have seen it recently, what did you think?
If you've never seen it, it's a pretty good noir thriller set down in New Orleans. Well, New Orleans--the movie just breaks your heart right there. It's got a great cast--Dennis Quaid, Ellen Barkin, Ned Beatty, John Goodman, Grace Zabriskie. It's an odd movie in that there's actually conversations amongst the characters. Am I the only one who watches movies these days and and wishes for more dialogue? It seems like scenes in which characters converse have been replaced by music videos and there's an over reliance on music to convey emotion and manipulate the viewer. (Case in point: Juno.)
So the plot is this: there's corruption in the New Orleans Police Department. There's also some activity amongst the organized crime in the area, the usual drug smuggling and murdering. Oh yeah, it's connected. DA Anne Osbourne is investigating the cops which puts her in the path of Lt. Remy McSwain and his sliding scale of personal morality. He seduces her and then she prosecutes him on corruption charges, then they fight a bit and investigate together and the cold hard slap of truth wakes McSwain up to the evils of the petty corruption and how it slides into your soul and grows when you are not watching. That and true love, cherie.
Here's the rub--you think from the description above that it's a big ol' boy film and the girl's just along as eye candy, right? Oh no. The film doesn't work without the strong characterization of Anne. She's definitely flustered by McSwain (hello, wolfish grin, six pack abs and amazing hands!) but she stands up to him on how he uses his position as a cop to score favors and accept bribes. She prosecutes him without hesitation after she sees him taking a bribe, although not without regret. The girl's tough even when she trembles, foiling a mugging, smashing a car window and in the end being a full participant in saving herself. Throughout the movie you believe that Anne's smart, she's good at her job and generally got it together--mostly a good role model. The best bit is when she lays into McSwain with the words "Don't you dare be amused by me." And after a point, even though it's layered over with his desire to bed her, as a viewer you realize that, yes, he does respect her. Huh. And that's just one of the sexy bits.
There's a couple of things in the film you just do not see anymore. The clothes are spectacularly bad, especially for the women. The mid 80's were a time of shoulder pads and baggy skirts. The one female homicide cop wears primary colored men's clothing, including a tie. And that's just in the first scene. Anne's business suits look to be 2 sizes too big, which is in tune with her reserved, business-like character. The other thing is that she looks like a working adult--when's the last time on tv or in a film you saw a female attorney in conservative dress that didn't show off her figure? You have to remember that this movie came 20 years ago and that yes, the clothes reflect the time but also the position of women. A woman in power in the DA's office didn't get there in a lowcut blouse. I did however have shuddering flashbacks at the size of her reading glasses--every picture of me as a kid has me in similar owl glasses that overpowered my face. There's also a scene when Remy is discussing his arrest and suspension with his younger brother, who then pulls out a joint--holy casual drug use without censor, man!
It's a fun movie with great storytelling that just flows along. If you haven't seen it, check it out. If you have seen it recently, what did you think?
Thursday, February 21, 2008
If Only They Were Hiding Cash...
So I gave away my entertainment center on Freecycle because I hated it. Two guys came to pick it up, and guess what I found when they lifted it up?
Cash: 27 cents
Once edible foodstuffs: 1 M&M, 1 dessicated cherry
Makeup brushes: 3
Ponytail holders: 1
Little balls: 3
Cat Greenies (balls of compressed catnip that apparently most cats adore and they help keep the teeth clean): 3
Kitty mice: 47
Times today I witnessed Cain jump around after a jellybean, scrap of paper, or specter in the air: 4
Note to self: quit spoiling the little beasts.
Cash: 27 cents
Once edible foodstuffs: 1 M&M, 1 dessicated cherry
Makeup brushes: 3
Ponytail holders: 1
Little balls: 3
Cat Greenies (balls of compressed catnip that apparently most cats adore and they help keep the teeth clean): 3
Kitty mice: 47
Times today I witnessed Cain jump around after a jellybean, scrap of paper, or specter in the air: 4
Note to self: quit spoiling the little beasts.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Library News
Libraries Will Soon Move Into Bay Area BART Stations: Note this story is taken from a tv news story, not any librarian press. The author therefore misses the point. The big huge push in libraries is to provide reader's advisory services, which takes more manpower, not less.
This is however, totally awesomely cool. I may break email silence with my old friend and disturb him in a few months to ask if he's seen these and how it is to use one. In the library world we spend a lot of time contemplating why people won't use our services (and why they violate our rules (not me, personally--I'm kinda meh on library rules sometimes, as a user)) and this is an ingenious idea to increase access. And not just for adults--imagine having the ability to pick up a picture book, get on the train, read it to your overtired, cranky kid and then return it when you get to your destination.
It may not increase reading among people not inclined to read, but it is a boon to inveterate readers like me who otherwise fritter money away on magazines or wind up with multiple books for a quick trip somewhere.
In darker, access limiting news, a tragic rape happened at the New Bedford, MA library. Of course, we all feel very bad. However, making people scan barcoded ids for entrance, and barring sex offenders--what the fuck are they thinking?
Not even speaking as a librarian, just as a citizen, this creeps me out. Frankly, I don't care to be "protected" in such a way. I consider it a violation of my civil rights--my right to privacy. The world's a dangerous place. Suck it up or go live off the grid and get eaten by elk. Now, I'll have to go live off the grid if this comes to pass.
This is however, totally awesomely cool. I may break email silence with my old friend and disturb him in a few months to ask if he's seen these and how it is to use one. In the library world we spend a lot of time contemplating why people won't use our services (and why they violate our rules (not me, personally--I'm kinda meh on library rules sometimes, as a user)) and this is an ingenious idea to increase access. And not just for adults--imagine having the ability to pick up a picture book, get on the train, read it to your overtired, cranky kid and then return it when you get to your destination.
It may not increase reading among people not inclined to read, but it is a boon to inveterate readers like me who otherwise fritter money away on magazines or wind up with multiple books for a quick trip somewhere.
In darker, access limiting news, a tragic rape happened at the New Bedford, MA library. Of course, we all feel very bad. However, making people scan barcoded ids for entrance, and barring sex offenders--what the fuck are they thinking?
Not even speaking as a librarian, just as a citizen, this creeps me out. Frankly, I don't care to be "protected" in such a way. I consider it a violation of my civil rights--my right to privacy. The world's a dangerous place. Suck it up or go live off the grid and get eaten by elk. Now, I'll have to go live off the grid if this comes to pass.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Free Read Roundup
Looking for something to read?
Tor is offering a free weekly e-book with subscription to its online newsletter.
The Internet Archive is another source for hard to find, scanned books. Gaslight is a site sponsored by Mount Royal College that does the same, along withLiterature.org and EServer's Fiction Collection offers both text, criticism, and links to other sites publishing fiction.
Five Chapters offers 1 short story per week, doled out in installments delivered by email or read on the web Monday-Friday. A great way to check out new writers.
Tor is offering a free weekly e-book with subscription to its online newsletter.
The Internet Archive is another source for hard to find, scanned books. Gaslight is a site sponsored by Mount Royal College that does the same, along withLiterature.org and EServer's Fiction Collection offers both text, criticism, and links to other sites publishing fiction.
Five Chapters offers 1 short story per week, doled out in installments delivered by email or read on the web Monday-Friday. A great way to check out new writers.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Jane Austen's Guide To Dating--Lauren Henderson
My family has caught the Jane Austen bug. We're all watching the PBS versions, and my mom has picked up all the books too. I am woefully behind on the films, but I am catching up. We now have topics of conversation.
Between the advent of the series and MFA Jane and I taking up worldwide domination by dating, I've had to bring out my copy of this title. It deserves more widespread attention. It has been sadly neglected in the readalike lists for Austen that I've seen. This is my favorite dating advice book. Most dating books make me feel unnatural. Apparently, I am a man--I am direct, I don't grasp the games and witholding affection, waiting annoys me. I like you, please kiss me. The only thing I do right is wear a skirt. Oh, hell.
I love this book because of the commonsense approach combining advice, case studies, and analysis of literature. Lauren Henderson distills 10 dating principles from all of which are commonsense ways of dealing people in any relationship, not just courtship. Show your interest, trust yourself, don't settle, look for someone who will bring out the best in you. She then brings in as evidence regular modern people who screwed up or succeeded in love, and analyzes all the couple in Austen's novels, from the doomed (Marianne and Willoughby) the unhappy (Mr. & Mrs. Bennet, Charles and Mary Musgrove), and the happy (Darcy and Elizabeth, Captain Wentworth and Anne Elliot).
This book is addictive and readable. It's a bit of a crib book on the novels, since it goes into great detail about the characters and plots. There's quizzes to help you figure out what Austen heroine you may be, and which hero your fellow may be and how well you are suited. And the stories Henderson tells back up her theories and analysis persuasively. She's got a chatty tone to this book that reassures and guides the reader. It's very girlfriend/sister giving advice. But most importantly, it is reassuring to those of us who may feel confused and apprehensive about putting ourselves out there and trying to find a mate. As modern women we may not be financially dependent on the institution of marriage to secure our futures, but the search for love and partnership is still nerve-wracking. Henderson counsels that by being yourself you will wind up in the best situation for you, which is more important than perception of status or wealth by those outside the relationship (example, Elinor Dashwood and Edward Ferrars).
Henderson is best know for her mystery series with renegade sculptor Sam Jones, a great series whose irreverent narrator toned down some horrific events. This nonfiction book shares arch observations of human nature and great humor.
Between the advent of the series and MFA Jane and I taking up worldwide domination by dating, I've had to bring out my copy of this title. It deserves more widespread attention. It has been sadly neglected in the readalike lists for Austen that I've seen. This is my favorite dating advice book. Most dating books make me feel unnatural. Apparently, I am a man--I am direct, I don't grasp the games and witholding affection, waiting annoys me. I like you, please kiss me. The only thing I do right is wear a skirt. Oh, hell.
I love this book because of the commonsense approach combining advice, case studies, and analysis of literature. Lauren Henderson distills 10 dating principles from all of which are commonsense ways of dealing people in any relationship, not just courtship. Show your interest, trust yourself, don't settle, look for someone who will bring out the best in you. She then brings in as evidence regular modern people who screwed up or succeeded in love, and analyzes all the couple in Austen's novels, from the doomed (Marianne and Willoughby) the unhappy (Mr. & Mrs. Bennet, Charles and Mary Musgrove), and the happy (Darcy and Elizabeth, Captain Wentworth and Anne Elliot).
This book is addictive and readable. It's a bit of a crib book on the novels, since it goes into great detail about the characters and plots. There's quizzes to help you figure out what Austen heroine you may be, and which hero your fellow may be and how well you are suited. And the stories Henderson tells back up her theories and analysis persuasively. She's got a chatty tone to this book that reassures and guides the reader. It's very girlfriend/sister giving advice. But most importantly, it is reassuring to those of us who may feel confused and apprehensive about putting ourselves out there and trying to find a mate. As modern women we may not be financially dependent on the institution of marriage to secure our futures, but the search for love and partnership is still nerve-wracking. Henderson counsels that by being yourself you will wind up in the best situation for you, which is more important than perception of status or wealth by those outside the relationship (example, Elinor Dashwood and Edward Ferrars).
Henderson is best know for her mystery series with renegade sculptor Sam Jones, a great series whose irreverent narrator toned down some horrific events. This nonfiction book shares arch observations of human nature and great humor.
Jane Austen Ladies
This video is so sublimely fun and ridiculously cheerful that I can barely control myself and fight the urge to boogie.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
If Only Women Could Vote, I'd Vote For You--Be My Valentine!
I went over to SuperC's tonight, as she kindly invited me for dinner. She has an awesome collection of Valentines sent and received by her family from the 1910's throughout the 1940's. Oh, the designs! I think my favorite was one of the above, the suffragette valentine.
Speaking Of True Love...
Isn't it adorable when library geeks marry?
I should talk. I think the 2nd floor of CPL Main Library, right by the elevators and under the lovely WPA mural, would be the bestest place ever to get married, provided you could keep it to a party of 10.
I should talk. I think the 2nd floor of CPL Main Library, right by the elevators and under the lovely WPA mural, would be the bestest place ever to get married, provided you could keep it to a party of 10.
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Linguistics
The Washington Post addresses a word that I love , the ever useful "so."
As someone who will be working on her Spanish the moment she hits Phoenix, I like this article on babies picking up foreign languages at daycare .
When I saw this article, "Humdinger of a Project: Tracing Slang to Ireland", I missed my dad because that would have been an awesome Christmas present. Miss G bought it for her dad, and describes it as a neat little compendium. I'm not sure what I think of the theory, but I have to admire the devotion.
Who doesn't love a LOLCat? Who doesn't find herself talking like a LOLCat sometimes? Not me. Anil Dash: Cats Can Has Grammar is an interesting post breaking down the grammar that has evolved around pictures of cats doing funny things.
Some of you have heard of my latest adventure in man catching (I was at the coffee bar at Trader Joe's and struck up a conversation a cheery "You're not from here!" when I heard an accent from back East coming out of a good looking fellow). May I recommend the International Dialects of English Archive for checking your own regionalism? The Central NJ (Princeton) accent is about half my speech, but years of Southern literature, country music and Ohio residence have flattened some vowels and sent some of my pronunciation past the Mason-Dixon.
As someone who will be working on her Spanish the moment she hits Phoenix, I like this article on babies picking up foreign languages at daycare .
When I saw this article, "Humdinger of a Project: Tracing Slang to Ireland", I missed my dad because that would have been an awesome Christmas present. Miss G bought it for her dad, and describes it as a neat little compendium. I'm not sure what I think of the theory, but I have to admire the devotion.
Who doesn't love a LOLCat? Who doesn't find herself talking like a LOLCat sometimes? Not me. Anil Dash: Cats Can Has Grammar is an interesting post breaking down the grammar that has evolved around pictures of cats doing funny things.
Some of you have heard of my latest adventure in man catching (I was at the coffee bar at Trader Joe's and struck up a conversation a cheery "You're not from here!" when I heard an accent from back East coming out of a good looking fellow). May I recommend the International Dialects of English Archive for checking your own regionalism? The Central NJ (Princeton) accent is about half my speech, but years of Southern literature, country music and Ohio residence have flattened some vowels and sent some of my pronunciation past the Mason-Dixon.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Just Me?
So am I the only person on the planet who went to see Juno and was dismayed at how Juno treated Bleeker and felt really sorry for him?
In general, it was a very well-written and acted film--it does deserve the Oscar nods. J.K. Simmons is great in his small part as Juno's dad, and Alison Janney as her stepmom is awesome. They haven't really been mentioned in the accolades.
In general, it was a very well-written and acted film--it does deserve the Oscar nods. J.K. Simmons is great in his small part as Juno's dad, and Alison Janney as her stepmom is awesome. They haven't really been mentioned in the accolades.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Time To Face Facts--The Sartorial Edition
Note to self: You don't wear scarves. The ex's comment about your thick neck still stings after all these years (really, you should have broken up with him for that comment right quick) and scarves detract from the awesome ability of your breasts to attract male attention. Really, don't destroy the landscape with clutter. Just give it all to Goodwill.
Books Read 2008
Stetson--S.L. Rottman
Lady in Red--Karen Hawkins
For The First Time--Kathryn Smith
Born To Rock--Gordon Korman
A Week From Sunday--Dorothy Garlock
Duke in Disguide--Gayle Callen
Untamed--Hope Tarr
Twist of Fate--Jayne Anne Krentz
Till Next We Meet--Karen Ranney
Lady in Red--Karen Hawkins
For The First Time--Kathryn Smith
Born To Rock--Gordon Korman
A Week From Sunday--Dorothy Garlock
Duke in Disguide--Gayle Callen
Untamed--Hope Tarr
Twist of Fate--Jayne Anne Krentz
Till Next We Meet--Karen Ranney
Saturday, February 02, 2008
Born To Rock--Gordon Korman
I have an appreciation post about Canadian author Gordon Korman coming up, but when I found this book in the YA shelf at the Euc, I had to grab it.
Leo P. Caraway has known for a long time that his dad isn't his biological father, and that's okay. He's not that curious about the Marion X. McMurphy listed on his birth certificate, who his mom refuses to discuss. He does refer to his occasional urges to wildness and rage as his McMurphy side. But still, as a Young Republican, honor student and future Harvard man, his future is secure. Until he gets innocently mixed up in a cheating scandal, loses his scholarship, gets dropped by the Young Republicans and finds out that Marion X. McMurphy is actually King Maggot of the seminal punk band Purge. In short, what the hell went wrong with his life? And how the hell can this guy be his father?
Leo sets out to get King to pay for his college education, but finds himself surprised by the man and developing a real bond. He signs on as a roadie for Purge's reunion tour, and hijinks ensue as he copes with hazing from the other roadies, finds himself being stalked by some high school friends following the tour, and dealing with needy, aging punk rockers.
The book's slim on character development, but Korman keeps the pace quick and humor coming. Leo is likeable, and no one is quite a stereotype. But I found myself most interested in King Maggot himself, and curious about what turned a would-be Kansas CPA into a punk rocker. There's an interesting novel right there.
There's read a likes galore for this book--the original (and best) issues of the comic Hopeless Savages, the other boys and bands books I've reviewed lately, Pagan Kennedy's The Exes, any Henry Rollins performance CDs or books, Jello Biafra's High Priest of Harmful Matter--Tales From The Trial spoken word album, Our Band Can Be Your Life: Scenes from the American Indie Underground 1981-1991 by Michael Azerrad, Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk by Legs McNeil, and Lou Reed's poetry. Korman's earlier books have a singularly loopy charm that go well with writers like Connie Willis and P.G. Wodehouse.
Leo P. Caraway has known for a long time that his dad isn't his biological father, and that's okay. He's not that curious about the Marion X. McMurphy listed on his birth certificate, who his mom refuses to discuss. He does refer to his occasional urges to wildness and rage as his McMurphy side. But still, as a Young Republican, honor student and future Harvard man, his future is secure. Until he gets innocently mixed up in a cheating scandal, loses his scholarship, gets dropped by the Young Republicans and finds out that Marion X. McMurphy is actually King Maggot of the seminal punk band Purge. In short, what the hell went wrong with his life? And how the hell can this guy be his father?
Leo sets out to get King to pay for his college education, but finds himself surprised by the man and developing a real bond. He signs on as a roadie for Purge's reunion tour, and hijinks ensue as he copes with hazing from the other roadies, finds himself being stalked by some high school friends following the tour, and dealing with needy, aging punk rockers.
The book's slim on character development, but Korman keeps the pace quick and humor coming. Leo is likeable, and no one is quite a stereotype. But I found myself most interested in King Maggot himself, and curious about what turned a would-be Kansas CPA into a punk rocker. There's an interesting novel right there.
There's read a likes galore for this book--the original (and best) issues of the comic Hopeless Savages, the other boys and bands books I've reviewed lately, Pagan Kennedy's The Exes, any Henry Rollins performance CDs or books, Jello Biafra's High Priest of Harmful Matter--Tales From The Trial spoken word album, Our Band Can Be Your Life: Scenes from the American Indie Underground 1981-1991 by Michael Azerrad, Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk by Legs McNeil, and Lou Reed's poetry. Korman's earlier books have a singularly loopy charm that go well with writers like Connie Willis and P.G. Wodehouse.
A Little Objectification For A Good Cause
I'm tempted to buy one of the 2008 Mildly Attractive Men of SLIS calendars just to see if they do have a guybrarian for every taste.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
From The Department Of Best Lines And Descriptions
Taken from The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie. Junior (the narrator) and his new friend Gordy have been talking and Gordy just explained the 3 level reading method. Oh, and they just went to the high school's library.
"What's your point?"
"The world, even the smallest parts of it, is filled with things you don't know."
Wow. That was a huge idea.
Any town, even one as small as Reardon, was a place of mystery. And that meant Wellpinit, the smaller, Indian town, was also a place of mystery.
"Okay, so it's like each of these books is a mystery. Every book is a mystery. And if you read all of the books ever written, it's like you've read one giant mystery. And no matter how much you learn, you keep on learning so much more you need to learn."
"Yes, yes, yes, yes," Gordy said. "Now doesn't that give you a boner?"
"I am rock hard," I said.
Gordy blushed.
"Well, I don't mean boner in the sexual sense," Gordy said. "I don't think you should run through life with a real erect penis. But you should approach each book--you should approach life--with the real possibility that you might get a metaphorical boner at any point." (97)
"What's your point?"
"The world, even the smallest parts of it, is filled with things you don't know."
Wow. That was a huge idea.
Any town, even one as small as Reardon, was a place of mystery. And that meant Wellpinit, the smaller, Indian town, was also a place of mystery.
"Okay, so it's like each of these books is a mystery. Every book is a mystery. And if you read all of the books ever written, it's like you've read one giant mystery. And no matter how much you learn, you keep on learning so much more you need to learn."
"Yes, yes, yes, yes," Gordy said. "Now doesn't that give you a boner?"
"I am rock hard," I said.
Gordy blushed.
"Well, I don't mean boner in the sexual sense," Gordy said. "I don't think you should run through life with a real erect penis. But you should approach each book--you should approach life--with the real possibility that you might get a metaphorical boner at any point." (97)
Monday, January 28, 2008
Viktor Schreckengost, 1906-2008
Viktor Schreckengost died on Saturday. If you've never heard of him, he's the father of American industrial design and a Cleveland treasure. Take a look at his gallery. His designs blend form, function, efficiency and beauty. The man did flippin' everything. Amazing.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Stop It! Just Stop It!
For the love of god, please stop sucking your snot back!
No jury in the world would convict me...no wait, in Cleveland they would. I have no peers. Crap.
No jury in the world would convict me...no wait, in Cleveland they would. I have no peers. Crap.
Books Read 2008
The Absolutely True Diary of A Part-Time Indian--Sherman Alexie
To Marry An Heiress--Lorraine Heath
Forced To Be Family: A Guide for Living with Sinister Sisters, Drama Mamas, and Infuriating In-laws--Cheryl Dellasega
To Marry An Heiress--Lorraine Heath
Forced To Be Family: A Guide for Living with Sinister Sisters, Drama Mamas, and Infuriating In-laws--Cheryl Dellasega
500 Great Books By Women--Erica Bauermeister, Jesse Larsen and Holly Smith
Published in 1994, this book is a great reader's advisory tool. It consists of short summaries of notable fiction and nonfiction by female authors, arranged by themes. The themes include Art, Growing Up, Violence, Power, Work and others. The best thing about this book is that it truly succeeds in bringing in non-Western writers and writers not of the current or modern period and the book descriptions are well-written and appeal to the adventuresome reader.
Definitely a book to keep an eye out for if you do reader's advisory or want to come up with a theme list, or if you are looking for good reads for yourself. It's still in print and available new or used online, and also available in at least 1 Clevnet library.
Definitely a book to keep an eye out for if you do reader's advisory or want to come up with a theme list, or if you are looking for good reads for yourself. It's still in print and available new or used online, and also available in at least 1 Clevnet library.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Dennis! Is Out
Note to self: Mail ballot request form to vote by mail against Kuchinich on March 4th.
Roll 4 Or Above, And You Evade The Cops
Due to my history, I shouldn't be laughing as hard as I am, but Big Theft Ends In Shackles For Goth Couple is amusing. And that the "mastermind" was a D&D dungeonmaster whose first words were along the lines of "Where did my plan go wrong?" is well, typical.
I speak from experience that people who spend roughly 50% of their non-sleeping time involved in fantasy roleplay tend to have a bit of trouble navigating the real world and often don't even realize it. When you spend a lot of time controlling outcomes and creating a world and story, you get a little drunk and delusional on the power. I used to know a lot of people like that, thanks to the ex.
I speak from experience that people who spend roughly 50% of their non-sleeping time involved in fantasy roleplay tend to have a bit of trouble navigating the real world and often don't even realize it. When you spend a lot of time controlling outcomes and creating a world and story, you get a little drunk and delusional on the power. I used to know a lot of people like that, thanks to the ex.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Just Add It To The Hold List, Kerry
Remember how I liked Lisa Lutz's The Spellman Files? She's got a sequel coming out in March called The Curse of the Spellmans. I am excited! The plot looks good.
What I'll Miss
So there's a lot of bad shit going down in my life right now, and when that happens I like to curl up and stay in one place. Bad habit. So I find myself looking at the 4 jobs available in the area that might pay enough to support myself, I tell myself "oh this isn't so bad!" and thinking I could not go to Phoenix.
I need to stop this right now.
Look ahead, Kerry. New life in Phoenix.
What I'm going to miss here when I'm gone:
1) The West Side Market--I'm going to miss the whole thing, but especially City Roast, Reilly's (fern cakes! empire biscuits! bakewell tarts!), and Frank's bratwurst. And the great deals on fruit and veg and meat.
2) Bela Dubby--Second best vanilla latte in town, right behind City Roast's ambrosia kickstart. And it's just a nice place, not too hip for itself, and really succeeds at being a third place for people.
3) The architecture. Really, there is beautiful houses and buildings all around here. Even the decaying buildings are lovely and have faded elegance. You can see how in its prime Cleveland was a lovely city.
4) Having old Eastern Europeans ask me what flavor of Eastern European I am. It happens at wok and here in Lakewood. FYI, the coloring is black Irish bitch, the little doll features are Slovak.
5) May through September is usually very nice weather-wise.
6) I have some very good friends here. You know who you are.
But honestly--I need to remember that that's not enough to sustain me.
I need to stop this right now.
Look ahead, Kerry. New life in Phoenix.
What I'm going to miss here when I'm gone:
1) The West Side Market--I'm going to miss the whole thing, but especially City Roast, Reilly's (fern cakes! empire biscuits! bakewell tarts!), and Frank's bratwurst. And the great deals on fruit and veg and meat.
2) Bela Dubby--Second best vanilla latte in town, right behind City Roast's ambrosia kickstart. And it's just a nice place, not too hip for itself, and really succeeds at being a third place for people.
3) The architecture. Really, there is beautiful houses and buildings all around here. Even the decaying buildings are lovely and have faded elegance. You can see how in its prime Cleveland was a lovely city.
4) Having old Eastern Europeans ask me what flavor of Eastern European I am. It happens at wok and here in Lakewood. FYI, the coloring is black Irish bitch, the little doll features are Slovak.
5) May through September is usually very nice weather-wise.
6) I have some very good friends here. You know who you are.
But honestly--I need to remember that that's not enough to sustain me.
Note To Self: Stay On Your Own Side of Town
Dear Yahoo! Maps:
I don't know what alternate reality you were mapping, but to get from ECPL Caledonia to Euclid one does not take Ravine to a right on Noble to a right on E.152nd. I can attest after yesterday's experiment that does not get you where you want to go in 16 minutes.
Note to Self: The East Side is fucked up. Stay to the 4 roads and highway that you know. (Euclid, Cedar, Lee, Mayfield and I-90) Or leave town and never come back.
I don't know what alternate reality you were mapping, but to get from ECPL Caledonia to Euclid one does not take Ravine to a right on Noble to a right on E.152nd. I can attest after yesterday's experiment that does not get you where you want to go in 16 minutes.
Note to Self: The East Side is fucked up. Stay to the 4 roads and highway that you know. (Euclid, Cedar, Lee, Mayfield and I-90) Or leave town and never come back.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Have I Shrugged Off The Mantle of Procrastination?
Not entirely. But that article for Info Career Trends that I have been mentally working on since September? I planted my heinie down today and wrote it. It's pretty good, and not due until February 1st. Which is 17 days from now.
Anyone want to read it and give me feedback? Let me know.
Anyone want to read it and give me feedback? Let me know.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
More Jane Austen Read A Likes
The Kansas City Public Libraryhas a great reading guide of Austen associated materials. Just in case you want to go on a literary bender. Enjoy!
Books Read 2008
A Dark Devotion--Clare Francis
Stotan!--Chris Crutcher
Young Avengers & Runaways: Civil War--Zeb Wells & Stefano Caselli
Austenland--Shannon Hale
The Single Sister Experiment--Mimi Jefferson
The Rake--Suzanne Enoch
The Jazz Kid--James Lincoln Collier
Stotan!--Chris Crutcher
Young Avengers & Runaways: Civil War--Zeb Wells & Stefano Caselli
Austenland--Shannon Hale
The Single Sister Experiment--Mimi Jefferson
The Rake--Suzanne Enoch
The Jazz Kid--James Lincoln Collier
Let's Do A Janus
I feel like I should post a 2007 Year In Review, because it was a weird but good year. On the one hand, it bore a resemblance to a country song--starting in September 2006, I had fleas, my dad died, I got fired, my grandmother got sick and did a 9 month downward spiral to her death, my aunt got sick, Mencken ran away, the car blew up, my love life started to pattern itself after Persuasion, the economy collapsed, and I decided to move to Phoenix.
I mean, horrible tragedies abounded. But in some ways, it has been the best year of my life--I finished my MLIS, I took a class that gave me some of my confidence in my own intellectual abilities back, my part time jobs gave my professional self a new lease on life and sealed the deal librarianship-wise (as in, even if no one will hire me, I love it and it loves me back and together we rock), after years of not knowing her my cousin cousin MFA Jane and I met and had a convergence of the minds, Genevieve is expecting(!), I made some great new friends, and I feel oddly free and like things are finally clicking into place. And happy, damn it. And those of you who have known me a long time, know that happy is a weird state for me.
I was reading something the other day in which the author said that if you want things to happen, you have to make a public commitment to the dream, especially if it's something that's not 100% under your control. So here's what's going to happen in 2008--my house will sell quickly, I'll get a great job in Phoenix and meet some nice men and flirt lots and fall in love with one of them. My spiffy single gal apartment will leave me with enough spare cash to take voice lessons, along with saving money. My sick aunt will stabilize. Genevieve's gonna have a cute and healthy bebe.* I'll keep writing. Life will be good. And I'll still be the most fucking cheerful and happy girl out there.
*There is nothing wrong with Genevieve's bebe and no suspicion that anything will go wrong. I am just superstitious on the subject of bebes, and if I were lucky enough to have one I would have to be hiding from witches and the evil eye by denying I was expecting one or even wanted one, up until the point I gave birth. Yes, I would be so drastic. And I would spit on the sidewalk should the subject come up.
In terms of reading--I'm going to post 1 book review a week. At least. And unlike last year, I'm going to count and list out my books finished. Looking back, the 3 best reads of 2007 were The Shadow and The Star, Fat Kid Rules The World, and King Dork. Honorable mentions go to The Spellman Files, The Re-Gifters, and the works of Judith Ivory.
I mean, horrible tragedies abounded. But in some ways, it has been the best year of my life--I finished my MLIS, I took a class that gave me some of my confidence in my own intellectual abilities back, my part time jobs gave my professional self a new lease on life and sealed the deal librarianship-wise (as in, even if no one will hire me, I love it and it loves me back and together we rock), after years of not knowing her my cousin cousin MFA Jane and I met and had a convergence of the minds, Genevieve is expecting(!), I made some great new friends, and I feel oddly free and like things are finally clicking into place. And happy, damn it. And those of you who have known me a long time, know that happy is a weird state for me.
I was reading something the other day in which the author said that if you want things to happen, you have to make a public commitment to the dream, especially if it's something that's not 100% under your control. So here's what's going to happen in 2008--my house will sell quickly, I'll get a great job in Phoenix and meet some nice men and flirt lots and fall in love with one of them. My spiffy single gal apartment will leave me with enough spare cash to take voice lessons, along with saving money. My sick aunt will stabilize. Genevieve's gonna have a cute and healthy bebe.* I'll keep writing. Life will be good. And I'll still be the most fucking cheerful and happy girl out there.
*There is nothing wrong with Genevieve's bebe and no suspicion that anything will go wrong. I am just superstitious on the subject of bebes, and if I were lucky enough to have one I would have to be hiding from witches and the evil eye by denying I was expecting one or even wanted one, up until the point I gave birth. Yes, I would be so drastic. And I would spit on the sidewalk should the subject come up.
In terms of reading--I'm going to post 1 book review a week. At least. And unlike last year, I'm going to count and list out my books finished. Looking back, the 3 best reads of 2007 were The Shadow and The Star, Fat Kid Rules The World, and King Dork. Honorable mentions go to The Spellman Files, The Re-Gifters, and the works of Judith Ivory.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Don't Give This To The Kidlets
Swiss Miss Pick-Me-Up Hot Cocoa.
Cocoa with as much caffeine as a cup of coffee.
Oh, yum! I haven't bought it yet, but I think it is a masterful concept.
Cocoa with as much caffeine as a cup of coffee.
Oh, yum! I haven't bought it yet, but I think it is a masterful concept.
From The Department Of Best Lines And Descriptions
I was thinking about this whole Kerry Talk Story! thing that I do and recalled this quotation from Nora Ephron's Heartburn:
Vera said: "Why do you feel you have to turn everything into a story?"
So I told her why:
Because if I tell the story, I control the version.
Because if I tell the story, I can make you laugh, and I would rather have you laugh at me than feel sorry for me.
Because if I tell the story, it doesn't hurt as much.
Because if I tell the story, I can get on with it. (176-177)
I think I first picked up this book when I was 11 or 12--totally did not get much of it, but I did take that passage to heart. I turn everything into a story. I think sometimes it seems as if I don't take things seriously or feel deeply, but I do. Telling stories is a defense mechanism. There's not much I can control in life, but by telling stories I control others by amusing them and perhaps keeping them from taking too close a look at me.
Vera said: "Why do you feel you have to turn everything into a story?"
So I told her why:
Because if I tell the story, I control the version.
Because if I tell the story, I can make you laugh, and I would rather have you laugh at me than feel sorry for me.
Because if I tell the story, it doesn't hurt as much.
Because if I tell the story, I can get on with it. (176-177)
I think I first picked up this book when I was 11 or 12--totally did not get much of it, but I did take that passage to heart. I turn everything into a story. I think sometimes it seems as if I don't take things seriously or feel deeply, but I do. Telling stories is a defense mechanism. There's not much I can control in life, but by telling stories I control others by amusing them and perhaps keeping them from taking too close a look at me.
From The Department Of Best Lines And Descriptions
Taken from Lillian Hellman's introduction to the 1964 collection of Dashiell Hammet's short stories and shorter novels, The Big Knockover:
"I know as little about the nature of romantic love as I did at eighteen, but I do know about the deep pleasure of continuing interest, the excitement of wanting to know what somebody else thinks, will do, will not do, the tricks played and unplayed, the short cord that the years make into rope and, in my case, is there, hanging loose, long after death." (xx-xxi)
God, that's so beautiful. I have had that kicking around for a while waiting for a wedding to make a speech using that, but I had to write it down in case I forget it or can't get a copy of the book.
"I know as little about the nature of romantic love as I did at eighteen, but I do know about the deep pleasure of continuing interest, the excitement of wanting to know what somebody else thinks, will do, will not do, the tricks played and unplayed, the short cord that the years make into rope and, in my case, is there, hanging loose, long after death." (xx-xxi)
God, that's so beautiful. I have had that kicking around for a while waiting for a wedding to make a speech using that, but I had to write it down in case I forget it or can't get a copy of the book.
Monday, January 07, 2008
King Dork--Frank Portman
This book is one of my top 3 reads for 2007 based on enjoyment and marveling at the writer's skill.
Tom Henderson starts his sophomore year at Hillmont High School with no expectations of education or enjoyment. He's as low socially as you can get, the "King Dork," adopting a heavy black coat and copies of Today's Mercenary to at least keep the other students' hands off him if he can't get them to stop calling him by the nickname of "Chi-Mo." "Chi-Mo" is short for "child molester" which comes from the unfortunate results of the 7th grade professional aptitude test that marked Tom for the clergy. School administration is almost as bad as the students--while the teachers don't hit you, they encourage other students to hit you. It's hell being small, introspective and unathletic and male in high school. He's got one friend, Sam Hellerman, with whom he plans out their bands despite the fact that neither really plays an instrument. His mom's just absent, his stepdad's an annoying ex-hippie, and his sister's okay but young. Tom's got nothing going for him but endurance, wit, and cleverness.
A bright spot appears when Tom stumbles onto his late father's library. Dad died in a mysterious accident/possible murder several years before, and Tom starts reading his books as a way to get to know him in retrospect. However, a mystery develops around his dad's copy of The Catcher in the Rye, which has numerous notes, a mass card for the funeral of Timothy J. Anderson, a note written in code, and one underlined passage. Tom starts trying to put together a 35 year old mystery as he struggles to get through school, figure out the identity of the mysterious Fiona with whom he made out at a party, and get the band into shape.
So it's a book about the hell of adolescence, longing for connection and sex, the redemptive power and connection of reading, snark on The Catcher In the Rye , and bands. And all that would be great, but Portman's created a smart, likable character in Tom and the whole book is a 344 page exercise in wit. I was pulled in and could not put it down, and laughing publicly. It's hard to find a quote to give you, because the book is so well constructed that it draws you in and you'd take things out of context, but I like this. It's from a scene between Tom and his parents after his mom flips when she finds the lyrics to the song "Thinking of Suicide?":
"My poor inept parental units. Once again, their opening line wasn't the topic sentence, and everyone ended up confused. They were trying to have the suicide talk and somehow it got mixed up with the drug talk....When my mom is in crazy mode, it's just not possible to talk to her reasonably. Still I gave it a shot, trying to make it as simple as possible.
'I'm not on drugs and I'm not going to kill myself,' I said. And it was true. I really wasn't. Though I couldn't tell you why not.
No one knew what to say. Then Little Big Tom cleared his throat and filled in some of the background.
My own cleverness had tripped me up. Way back, I had needed an excuse for why I never spent much time at home, particularly after school. The real reason was that LBT kind of freaked me out back then, and I felt so uncomfortable with the whole vibe of the Henderson-Tucci household that even the ghastly pall of Hellerman Manor seemed preferable to it. So I invented a series of clubs I was supposed to be in. plausible ones, like the Chess Club, Rocketry Club, Monty Python Club, The Middle-earthlings, or the Trekster Gods, an sometimes crazy ones that I would make up for my own amusement, like the Caulking and Stripping Club or the Doorknob Appreciation Society, otherwise known as the Knob-heads. Not that they ever paid attention to what the clubs were called. My brilliant humor, once again wasted.
Ironically, part of the reason I started hanging out at home more, in addition to the fact that we couldn't do band activities at Sam Hellerman's, was that I had started to warm up to Little Big Tom, even actually almost kind of liked being around him sometimes. But to them it looked like I had suddenly lost interest in all the clubs and afterschool activities. That was a Danger Sign. Then they found the lyrics and pamphlet and that had tipped the whole thing over. I screwed up. And now I was looking at a vast stretch of inept suicide-watch activity from the parental units for some time to come." (159, 161-162)
Tom Henderson starts his sophomore year at Hillmont High School with no expectations of education or enjoyment. He's as low socially as you can get, the "King Dork," adopting a heavy black coat and copies of Today's Mercenary to at least keep the other students' hands off him if he can't get them to stop calling him by the nickname of "Chi-Mo." "Chi-Mo" is short for "child molester" which comes from the unfortunate results of the 7th grade professional aptitude test that marked Tom for the clergy. School administration is almost as bad as the students--while the teachers don't hit you, they encourage other students to hit you. It's hell being small, introspective and unathletic and male in high school. He's got one friend, Sam Hellerman, with whom he plans out their bands despite the fact that neither really plays an instrument. His mom's just absent, his stepdad's an annoying ex-hippie, and his sister's okay but young. Tom's got nothing going for him but endurance, wit, and cleverness.
A bright spot appears when Tom stumbles onto his late father's library. Dad died in a mysterious accident/possible murder several years before, and Tom starts reading his books as a way to get to know him in retrospect. However, a mystery develops around his dad's copy of The Catcher in the Rye, which has numerous notes, a mass card for the funeral of Timothy J. Anderson, a note written in code, and one underlined passage. Tom starts trying to put together a 35 year old mystery as he struggles to get through school, figure out the identity of the mysterious Fiona with whom he made out at a party, and get the band into shape.
So it's a book about the hell of adolescence, longing for connection and sex, the redemptive power and connection of reading, snark on The Catcher In the Rye , and bands. And all that would be great, but Portman's created a smart, likable character in Tom and the whole book is a 344 page exercise in wit. I was pulled in and could not put it down, and laughing publicly. It's hard to find a quote to give you, because the book is so well constructed that it draws you in and you'd take things out of context, but I like this. It's from a scene between Tom and his parents after his mom flips when she finds the lyrics to the song "Thinking of Suicide?":
"My poor inept parental units. Once again, their opening line wasn't the topic sentence, and everyone ended up confused. They were trying to have the suicide talk and somehow it got mixed up with the drug talk....When my mom is in crazy mode, it's just not possible to talk to her reasonably. Still I gave it a shot, trying to make it as simple as possible.
'I'm not on drugs and I'm not going to kill myself,' I said. And it was true. I really wasn't. Though I couldn't tell you why not.
No one knew what to say. Then Little Big Tom cleared his throat and filled in some of the background.
My own cleverness had tripped me up. Way back, I had needed an excuse for why I never spent much time at home, particularly after school. The real reason was that LBT kind of freaked me out back then, and I felt so uncomfortable with the whole vibe of the Henderson-Tucci household that even the ghastly pall of Hellerman Manor seemed preferable to it. So I invented a series of clubs I was supposed to be in. plausible ones, like the Chess Club, Rocketry Club, Monty Python Club, The Middle-earthlings, or the Trekster Gods, an sometimes crazy ones that I would make up for my own amusement, like the Caulking and Stripping Club or the Doorknob Appreciation Society, otherwise known as the Knob-heads. Not that they ever paid attention to what the clubs were called. My brilliant humor, once again wasted.
Ironically, part of the reason I started hanging out at home more, in addition to the fact that we couldn't do band activities at Sam Hellerman's, was that I had started to warm up to Little Big Tom, even actually almost kind of liked being around him sometimes. But to them it looked like I had suddenly lost interest in all the clubs and afterschool activities. That was a Danger Sign. Then they found the lyrics and pamphlet and that had tipped the whole thing over. I screwed up. And now I was looking at a vast stretch of inept suicide-watch activity from the parental units for some time to come." (159, 161-162)
Arriba! Hombre, Hombre, Hija!
So I figured out that the reason that my new coffeemaker wasn't making my coffee at 5:45AM was because it was set for 5:45PM. Whoops. So I poured myself another cup (3rd coffee drink of the day) and mixed in some of Genevieve's hot cocoa mix for a mocha flair.
Speedy Gonzalez ain't got nuthin' on me.
Speedy Gonzalez ain't got nuthin' on me.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
Nice Waistcoat, Dude!
Like you needed a reason to be in front of PBS next Sunday, but I will give you one: Anthony Stewart Head (yes, he of "Buffy" fame) is playing Sir Walter Elliot, aka Big Idiot Weasel Dad, in Persuasion. Plus Rupert Henry-Jones of MI-5 plays Wentworth. Be still my heart.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
My Cranky--Let Me Tell You
I've been holding on to this crank for MONTHS, people!
From the Kent State SLIS listserv:
"The School of Library and Information Science has 23 scholarships available!
Funded through the IMLS Laura Bush Librarians for the 21st Century program, two categories of scholarships are available. Both provide full tuition for an MLIS degree."
Great, huh? Oh wait, no. The scholarships are for school media specialists and children's librarians. Now, I know the strength of Ken's program is children's and public librarianship but (soapbox, please!) adults use the library too! There's a scarcity of librarians willing and able to serve inner city and rural populations, and the ability to graduate without student loans would help fill those positions. There's also the whole field of special librarianship, which Kent ignores like a redheaded stepchild.
I'm disappointed. Spread the cash out a little, please.
From the Kent State SLIS listserv:
"The School of Library and Information Science has 23 scholarships available!
Funded through the IMLS Laura Bush Librarians for the 21st Century program, two categories of scholarships are available. Both provide full tuition for an MLIS degree."
Great, huh? Oh wait, no. The scholarships are for school media specialists and children's librarians. Now, I know the strength of Ken's program is children's and public librarianship but (soapbox, please!) adults use the library too! There's a scarcity of librarians willing and able to serve inner city and rural populations, and the ability to graduate without student loans would help fill those positions. There's also the whole field of special librarianship, which Kent ignores like a redheaded stepchild.
I'm disappointed. Spread the cash out a little, please.
Sexy Librarian--A Novel, A Stereotype, A Faint Hope?
Oh, I am so torn--it sounds like something I'd like to read, but also something I'd be disappointed in because I would hold it to a high standard, and if it wasn't accurate I'd throw it against the wall. Plus we've got primo librarian stereotyping here. Hipster librarian? Check! Retreat to the Midwest from New York? Check! The "sexy" library? Bwaaaahhh! Check!
From PubLib:
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:
Sexy Librarian, a novel, published by Ellen Lupton/Slush Editions
Sexy Librarian, available for the first time this January, is Julia Weist's first novel about the life of Audrey Reed--a beautiful, sophisticated, New York Arts librarian who moves to the Midwest to work in a public library. With its witty and honest perspective on the tribulations of modern librarianship--its ideals and realities-- Sexy Librarian is an essential read for all those who think life long learning is as important as long nights of ecstasy. While Audrey struggles with an impossible romance with the library director's ex-husband and a mountain of steamy New York memories, she remembers why she fell in love with the library in the first place and why she still finds it so damn sexy.
The volume includes a critical essay by Jennifer Tobias, Reader Services Librarian at The Museum of Modern Art, New York, called, "In Search of the Sexy Librarian," and a new publisher's afterword.
for more information please visit:
www.sexylibrariannovel.com
to order please visit:
http://www.lulu.com/content/1400577
From PubLib:
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:
Sexy Librarian, a novel, published by Ellen Lupton/Slush Editions
Sexy Librarian, available for the first time this January, is Julia Weist's first novel about the life of Audrey Reed--a beautiful, sophisticated, New York Arts librarian who moves to the Midwest to work in a public library. With its witty and honest perspective on the tribulations of modern librarianship--its ideals and realities-- Sexy Librarian is an essential read for all those who think life long learning is as important as long nights of ecstasy. While Audrey struggles with an impossible romance with the library director's ex-husband and a mountain of steamy New York memories, she remembers why she fell in love with the library in the first place and why she still finds it so damn sexy.
The volume includes a critical essay by Jennifer Tobias, Reader Services Librarian at The Museum of Modern Art, New York, called, "In Search of the Sexy Librarian," and a new publisher's afterword.
for more information please visit:
www.sexylibrariannovel.com
to order please visit:
http://www.lulu.com/content/1400577
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Sloth Has Its Rewards
We got about 6 inches of snow last night. I measured it with my hand at 10am when I went out to shovel--I still subscribe to that old wives' tale "The West Side doesn't get snow!" until faced with evidence. I did one lane and was reflecting that Genevieve was so right when she said that she used to like snow until she moved to Cleveland, when a guy pulled up in a minivan.
"Hey, I got a snowblower. For 10 bucks I'l do from your car out to the street."
Best $10 I could have spent, truly. He did from my car to the street, cleared out the plow buildup, did the walkway steps and porch. I have his flyer for next time.
"Hey, I got a snowblower. For 10 bucks I'l do from your car out to the street."
Best $10 I could have spent, truly. He did from my car to the street, cleared out the plow buildup, did the walkway steps and porch. I have his flyer for next time.
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
There Were Two Sisters, Side By Side...
You will all be happy to know that I start 2008 with only 2 cats in the house. Molly and Belle, the adorable, affectionate, smart friendly tabby girls went to the Garfield Heights Petsmart last night. Honeybelle is my last foster.
Winter 2008 is an excellent time to adopt an animal friend...
Winter 2008 is an excellent time to adopt an animal friend...
Monday, December 31, 2007
What Would Jane Austen Do?
God bless the WGA strike! Because you will have lots of time to watch the new PBS adaptations of all Jane Austen's novels. The fun starts on January 13th with Persuasion.
And if that tosses you into a secret fantasy of the Regency period and or causes you to bemoan your single state, this round up of the latest Jane Austen homages and clones is a good reference for what's out there. Me and Mr. Darcy is a crap book, by the way. It also leaves off Lauren Henderson's Jane Austen's Guide To Dating, which I found invaluable and will review as soon as I find my copy. Also keep in mind that The Jane Austen Book Club is soon out on video.
And The Risky Regencies blog spent the early part of December looking at Austen's novels, putting the phrase "big girl panties" into my brain.
Salon's take on the cult of Austen calls out the romantic fangirls as missing the point if that's all you think Austen's about. Her novels are more prescriptive about marriage and relationships than people like to think, and it's clear she was a woman of her times who believed in the social order. You marry for security and choose well, and if you find love that's grand but really--sometimes all you can hope for is to live parallel lives and keep your temper.
I first got into Austen when we read Emma for Mr. Quinn's spring course, "The English Novel." I embraced Austen's view of marriage in a big way (probably ultimately to my detriment) , but I didn't get into any of her novels until my late 20's--I think I attempted Pride and Prejudice in college but found it a slog to get through the first 50 pages, Mansfield Park is 400 pages of boredom leading to a mere 50 pages of scandalous fun at the end, and Northanger Abbey confused me.
I read Sense and Sensibility while recovering from my broken arm, which lead to a rereading of the other books including P&P the summer after I split with the ex and Persuasion 2 years ago. The reason why these books endure is that the search for love and affection is the same--we all want someone who will love us when we bring nothing but our worst selves to the table, who will want us despite shortsightedness and stupidity and selfishness, and give us a second chance. They give me hope, every one of them.
And if that tosses you into a secret fantasy of the Regency period and or causes you to bemoan your single state, this round up of the latest Jane Austen homages and clones is a good reference for what's out there. Me and Mr. Darcy is a crap book, by the way. It also leaves off Lauren Henderson's Jane Austen's Guide To Dating, which I found invaluable and will review as soon as I find my copy. Also keep in mind that The Jane Austen Book Club is soon out on video.
And The Risky Regencies blog spent the early part of December looking at Austen's novels, putting the phrase "big girl panties" into my brain.
Salon's take on the cult of Austen calls out the romantic fangirls as missing the point if that's all you think Austen's about. Her novels are more prescriptive about marriage and relationships than people like to think, and it's clear she was a woman of her times who believed in the social order. You marry for security and choose well, and if you find love that's grand but really--sometimes all you can hope for is to live parallel lives and keep your temper.
I first got into Austen when we read Emma for Mr. Quinn's spring course, "The English Novel." I embraced Austen's view of marriage in a big way (probably ultimately to my detriment) , but I didn't get into any of her novels until my late 20's--I think I attempted Pride and Prejudice in college but found it a slog to get through the first 50 pages, Mansfield Park is 400 pages of boredom leading to a mere 50 pages of scandalous fun at the end, and Northanger Abbey confused me.
I read Sense and Sensibility while recovering from my broken arm, which lead to a rereading of the other books including P&P the summer after I split with the ex and Persuasion 2 years ago. The reason why these books endure is that the search for love and affection is the same--we all want someone who will love us when we bring nothing but our worst selves to the table, who will want us despite shortsightedness and stupidity and selfishness, and give us a second chance. They give me hope, every one of them.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
The Post-CAKE! Day
I feel a little hung over, although I did not drink last night. 2 people came to my party, SuperC and her husband. I have a lot of cake leftover.
I have just had another piece of cake and Starbucks. I should eat some real food--lamb chops and green beans and rice. I don't feel like cooking though.
I gave the kitties these catnip filled candy canes and they proceeded to go nuts with the rolling on the floor, licking, and kicking. Now they are hung over too.
Edit: Fuck, it occurs to me that I have probably caught the dreaded librarian crud. It has gone through Circulation, Reference and Children's in the EC. Ms. P was out of work for 3 days and had to go to the doctor. Ms. G got it and was out. Ms. F caught it and went home unable to read. Damn it!
I have just had another piece of cake and Starbucks. I should eat some real food--lamb chops and green beans and rice. I don't feel like cooking though.
I gave the kitties these catnip filled candy canes and they proceeded to go nuts with the rolling on the floor, licking, and kicking. Now they are hung over too.
Edit: Fuck, it occurs to me that I have probably caught the dreaded librarian crud. It has gone through Circulation, Reference and Children's in the EC. Ms. P was out of work for 3 days and had to go to the doctor. Ms. G got it and was out. Ms. F caught it and went home unable to read. Damn it!
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Beauty, The Beast & The Librarian
This in an excellent paper discussing the classic theme of the Beauty and the Beast fairy tale in romance novels, but you know--when I wrote my master's thesis, it had to be on the topic of library and information science, some way some how, and not just literary criticism.
I mean, if I could have gotten away with that, it might not have taken so freaking long to write it, no?
And it if from UNC, which has a much more prestigious program than Kent.
I mean, if I could have gotten away with that, it might not have taken so freaking long to write it, no?
And it if from UNC, which has a much more prestigious program than Kent.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Wardrobe Matters
So, I've decided that a black velvet coat was a stupid thing for a woman moving to Phoenix to buy. Even if she bought it in Phoenix.
***********************
Sephora has glitter eyeshadow available. You may think "What does a frumpy, plumpy librarian need with glitter eyeshadow? That's what rock n' rollers wear." Ah contraire! Glitter eyeshadow is perfectly appropriate for the reference desk! Necessary even!
I have the light violet. Very nice.
***********************
I dress up for work, partly because I'm a dressy person who owns corporate clothes, but partly because work is important and by looking nice you telegraph that you take it seriously. I think yesterday's outfit was a bit much though. Or maybe I should either get thinner or stop dressing like I am thin.
I wore: my funeral skirt (black, belted, below the knee, swingy) with a white blouse with black polka dots, a black cardigan, black stockings with white polka dots, and black shoes with white trim.
I don't know what to do with myself.
***********************
Sephora has glitter eyeshadow available. You may think "What does a frumpy, plumpy librarian need with glitter eyeshadow? That's what rock n' rollers wear." Ah contraire! Glitter eyeshadow is perfectly appropriate for the reference desk! Necessary even!
I have the light violet. Very nice.
***********************
I dress up for work, partly because I'm a dressy person who owns corporate clothes, but partly because work is important and by looking nice you telegraph that you take it seriously. I think yesterday's outfit was a bit much though. Or maybe I should either get thinner or stop dressing like I am thin.
I wore: my funeral skirt (black, belted, below the knee, swingy) with a white blouse with black polka dots, a black cardigan, black stockings with white polka dots, and black shoes with white trim.
I don't know what to do with myself.
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