Most cats have quirks. Some are common quirks, like plant terrorizing and ankle batting. My cat's are a bit unique, I think.
The least unique is the dining-room-table-hockey. Whatever is up there, comes down and gets batted around until it's dead. Never mind that it was never alive. Pretend is part of the game. One morning I got up and found my daughter's chapstick on the floor. I picked it up and put it on the table, then walked toward the kitchen. The cat was nowhere in sight. I heard a click, turned around, and the chapstick was gone. Still no Maya in sight. Stealth Cat.
More unique is her ability to save us from Little Toy Army Guys. My husband used to play with those as a kid. You know the kind. Green plastic, had a supporting role in Toy Story? So I bought him a bag one year for Christmas. He had them set up in battle formation on the wide picture window windowsill in our basement. Every so often he and the kids will clean up and the army guys will get set up all nice and neat. The next day we come home, and the litter the ground around the pool table. Casualties of Stealth Cat.
Her funniest, though, is her water thing. She won't drink out of her own bowl, which is pinkish (but not in a bad way) plastic. She prefers to drink out of the dog's water bowl, which is metal. Or, her highest preference, my water glass. I tend to leave them around. She just came into my office, leapt onto the desk, sniffed the two glasses on it--one was empty, the other too tall for her to get into--and left. *I* am most definitely chopped liver.
Last night my husband pulled a funny on her. Whenever the dog doesn't finish her food, the cat helps her out. She'll help her out ANYtime, gladly. We always figured she was just a little piggy and didn't think we were feeding her enough. But last night the dog had to go out while the kids were getting the food ready. Cat started eating her food. Dog's food was in her dish, but dog was outside. Cat abandoned her half-full dish and started eating the dog food.
My husband chased her away, let the dog in, then dumped the cat's food in punishment. Maya returned to the kitchen a few minutes later and just sat there, starin at the dish.
Poor Stealth Cat.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
So What, I Flinched?
For a long time, it was difficult for me to watch less-than-stellar TV or movies. Continuity and logic issues always drove me nuts. Most writers have a problem with entertainment, because they’ve trained themselves to pick apart the writing, find the flaws and think about how to fix them, or even analyze why something works.
Oddly, the longer my writing career has gone, the more tolerant I am. I only watch TV shows that really, really hook me. Like, two-episodes-of-Alias-on-DVD-every-night-until-all-four- seasons-are-done-unless-my-Netflix-timing-is-bad, hook me. If something hooks me that well, I don’t care if there are logic flaws or continuity issues or problems with characterization. I’m very tolerant of mediocre movies, too, because I use them to disengage my brain. Unless they’re Catwoman or War of the Worlds bad, I can enjoy the show.
So when I’m watching something fictional, especially something suspenseful, I allow myself to get fully drawn into it. When something sudden happens, I jump—even if I was expecting it. This always makes my husband laugh and point. “Ha ha, you jumped and I didn’t.” My question is, why is that bad?
We’re primitively conditioned to jump. If a sabretooth tiger is going to leap out of the bushes, jumping might get you out of the way. If a fist is coming toward your face, it might save you a black eye. It’s just good fortune that those of us who get picked on for flinching, or who pride themselves on not flinching, don’t have to worry about such things as a general rule.
Also, if a bit of entertainment makes me jump when the writer/director/editor wanted me to, that’s a GOOD thing. I feel sorry for anyone who holds himself so distant from what they’re watching that they aren’t surprised or affected by it. Entertainment is one of our few pure pleasures, and should be allowed to be such.
Unless not flinching is your entertainment. If so, well, go ahead and laugh at me.
Oddly, the longer my writing career has gone, the more tolerant I am. I only watch TV shows that really, really hook me. Like, two-episodes-of-Alias-on-DVD-every-night-until-all-four- seasons-are-done-unless-my-Netflix-timing-is-bad, hook me. If something hooks me that well, I don’t care if there are logic flaws or continuity issues or problems with characterization. I’m very tolerant of mediocre movies, too, because I use them to disengage my brain. Unless they’re Catwoman or War of the Worlds bad, I can enjoy the show.
So when I’m watching something fictional, especially something suspenseful, I allow myself to get fully drawn into it. When something sudden happens, I jump—even if I was expecting it. This always makes my husband laugh and point. “Ha ha, you jumped and I didn’t.” My question is, why is that bad?
We’re primitively conditioned to jump. If a sabretooth tiger is going to leap out of the bushes, jumping might get you out of the way. If a fist is coming toward your face, it might save you a black eye. It’s just good fortune that those of us who get picked on for flinching, or who pride themselves on not flinching, don’t have to worry about such things as a general rule.
Also, if a bit of entertainment makes me jump when the writer/director/editor wanted me to, that’s a GOOD thing. I feel sorry for anyone who holds himself so distant from what they’re watching that they aren’t surprised or affected by it. Entertainment is one of our few pure pleasures, and should be allowed to be such.
Unless not flinching is your entertainment. If so, well, go ahead and laugh at me.
*&^*((&%% Soccer Times
We had a 7:30 soccer game this morning.
On Saturday.
She had to be there at 7:10.
Yes, they are insane.
And I'm very, very tired.
On the other hand, we got a full day's worth of activity accomplished before noon.
We should get up before six every Saturday!
*snort*
On Saturday.
She had to be there at 7:10.
Yes, they are insane.
And I'm very, very tired.
On the other hand, we got a full day's worth of activity accomplished before noon.
We should get up before six every Saturday!
*snort*
Why I Write
A friend posted on her blog yesterday an analysis of why she writes. It was very introspective and even philosophical, and of course made me imagine what I'd say if someone asked me why I write.
Well, since this blog's purpose is to give me a chance to ask questions no one asks me, here is my response:
*blank stare*
For me, asking why I write is like asking my dog why she marks every two feet when we go for a walk. It's what she does. It's what she's good at. And she simply has to.
In fact, the whole question is kind of dumb. No one asks all those people auditioning for American Idol why they sing. Or an artist why she paints. Okay, they probably do, but the questioning isn't saying "why sing instead of collecting garbage," they're asking "why choose to sing here, for this reason."
Which means the question really is, why write for publication?
That one's a little harder to answer. Wry Write? is just verifying the person's talent. Why write for publication is really, why struggle to do something so hard when the chance of success is so small? People do ask that question, every day, of those striving to succeed in any demanding, competitive profession, like acting or CEOing or panhandling in Grand Central.
The answer, however, is also a blank stare.
It's embedded in all those little bits that make up who I am--a compulsive reader who loveslovesloves popular fiction; a Capricorn, the birth sign of competitive, ambitious people; an oldest child of a single mother who was a staunch feminist and a very strong proponent of the Idea that I could be president of the US if I damn well wanted to; a control freak who likes the idea of a profession where I can call most of the shots; a believer in having something that's totally your own, in a way that motherhood and wifedom and Working For Someone Else are not.
Really, the more appropriate question is, Why Not?
Well, since this blog's purpose is to give me a chance to ask questions no one asks me, here is my response:
*blank stare*
For me, asking why I write is like asking my dog why she marks every two feet when we go for a walk. It's what she does. It's what she's good at. And she simply has to.
In fact, the whole question is kind of dumb. No one asks all those people auditioning for American Idol why they sing. Or an artist why she paints. Okay, they probably do, but the questioning isn't saying "why sing instead of collecting garbage," they're asking "why choose to sing here, for this reason."
Which means the question really is, why write for publication?
That one's a little harder to answer. Wry Write? is just verifying the person's talent. Why write for publication is really, why struggle to do something so hard when the chance of success is so small? People do ask that question, every day, of those striving to succeed in any demanding, competitive profession, like acting or CEOing or panhandling in Grand Central.
The answer, however, is also a blank stare.
It's embedded in all those little bits that make up who I am--a compulsive reader who loveslovesloves popular fiction; a Capricorn, the birth sign of competitive, ambitious people; an oldest child of a single mother who was a staunch feminist and a very strong proponent of the Idea that I could be president of the US if I damn well wanted to; a control freak who likes the idea of a profession where I can call most of the shots; a believer in having something that's totally your own, in a way that motherhood and wifedom and Working For Someone Else are not.
Really, the more appropriate question is, Why Not?
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Why Frey’s Alleged Lies Aren’t No Big Deal
A lot of people are shrugging off the allegations that James Frey embellished and/or lied in his best-selling memoir, A Million Little Pieces. “It’s just a book,” they say. “The underlying theme of redemption still resonates.” While those are both true, I say they are unimportant.
When a person reads a fictional account of a person overcoming a hardship, there is a buffer in the impact such a thing can have. The theme can resonate, can move the reader, can even inspire. But while it is possible for it to make someone change his or her life, it is unlikely. There’s always the knowledge that it’s made up, no different than their own wishes that they could do the same.
When a person reads a memoir, however, that proves something can be overcome, it can provide the “click” the reader needs to take the steps to do the same. Belief is the difference—if the writer can do it, so can the reader. It did happen, so it can happen.
Oprah can imply it’s no big deal because she didn’t have those obstacles to overcome. Yes, the writing was good, and yes, she was moved. But would things have been different if she’d been a cocaine addict and responsible for someone’s death? If someone read A Million Little Pieces and it inspired them to overcome their own addictions and problems, and they’re already past it, that’s great. But what about those who are still struggling? What about someone who is working hard to overcome, and believes so strongly that they can do it because James Frey did, then finds out they were lied to? It’s permission to give up. There’s no point. It can’t happen, because it didn’t happen.
Some might call me melodramatic. They might accuse me of bitterness because of the rumors that he wrote it as fiction and it didn’t sell, so he pitched it as a memoir and it did. I will admit to a little annoyance. I’m a goody-two-shoes and it always bothers me when people get rewarded for doing the things I would never do to get ahead. But his alleged lies don’t affect me at all. They didn’t keep me off the bestseller list and I’m not one of those who would be inspired by his story. I didn’t read it, so there’s not even any personal betrayal.
But this is not a little white lie like telling your girlfriend her dress doesn’t make her look fat. This is bigger and more important than that, and shouldn’t be brushed aside with a “no big deal.”
Friday, January 20, 2006
Inciting Incident
Writing advice goes in waves. For a while, it will seem like everyone is talking about a particular aspect of the craft. Then focus shifts to something else, and eventually comes back to that original topic when everyone misunderstands what was meant by it.
One such aspect is the inciting incident, or "start at the right place." Last year it seemed there was a lot of discussion (in articles and workshops and online) about stories that start too early and are loaded with what should be backstory, sometimes pages, sometimes whole chapters, that bog down the beginning of the story. With excitement, authors talked about cutting the first two chapters and sprinkling in those details instead, and how much better the book is. And that's a good thing.
The problem is, now many authors are starting too late.
I have been reading a lot of unpublished work lately, for large and small contests and to help out some friends. Some of these have been novels, but most have been short stories or novellas. I've actually seen it in some published books, too. "It" being a starting point in sequel rather than scene.
Don't show me a character walking into her house, despondent or freaked or angry or even happy, then have her sit in a chair thinking about--or worse, telling her cat about--all the exciting stuff that just happened to her, and all the events that led up to that exciting stuff. The "inciting incident" that launches the story is not the main character's REACTION. It's the ACTUAL INCIDENT. If someone gets fired, open the book with "you're fired." If their house burns down, show me the character fighting the flames, or struggling to get out, or even what they were doing when the Molotov cocktail came through the front window. I don't want to be standing out on the street, tapping my foot as they stare at the smoking ruin and REMEMBER all that. I want to be in it with them.
One published book I read--it was a good book, too, and I was glad I kept going with it--started with the heroine trying to get up the nerve to go into the police station with an incredible story. She stood next to her car recalling the events of that incredible story, then started up the steps. Scene break. Next scene is the heroine arriving home, proceeding to think about what had just happened in the police station. I wanted to BE there with her during the incredible events as they happened, and I wanted to BE there when she had her horrible debriefing with the police.
What happens is that misunderstanding "don't start the story too soon" ends up violating "show, don't tell" in the most basic of ways, and that's even more detrimental to the story than infodumping backstory.
Luckily, it's not that hard to fix. The events are there, becuase you're describing them. Just back up, and describe them in active voice, unfolding them as they happen, without "had"ing the story to death.
I guarantee you'll have a better book.
One such aspect is the inciting incident, or "start at the right place." Last year it seemed there was a lot of discussion (in articles and workshops and online) about stories that start too early and are loaded with what should be backstory, sometimes pages, sometimes whole chapters, that bog down the beginning of the story. With excitement, authors talked about cutting the first two chapters and sprinkling in those details instead, and how much better the book is. And that's a good thing.
The problem is, now many authors are starting too late.
I have been reading a lot of unpublished work lately, for large and small contests and to help out some friends. Some of these have been novels, but most have been short stories or novellas. I've actually seen it in some published books, too. "It" being a starting point in sequel rather than scene.
Don't show me a character walking into her house, despondent or freaked or angry or even happy, then have her sit in a chair thinking about--or worse, telling her cat about--all the exciting stuff that just happened to her, and all the events that led up to that exciting stuff. The "inciting incident" that launches the story is not the main character's REACTION. It's the ACTUAL INCIDENT. If someone gets fired, open the book with "you're fired." If their house burns down, show me the character fighting the flames, or struggling to get out, or even what they were doing when the Molotov cocktail came through the front window. I don't want to be standing out on the street, tapping my foot as they stare at the smoking ruin and REMEMBER all that. I want to be in it with them.
One published book I read--it was a good book, too, and I was glad I kept going with it--started with the heroine trying to get up the nerve to go into the police station with an incredible story. She stood next to her car recalling the events of that incredible story, then started up the steps. Scene break. Next scene is the heroine arriving home, proceeding to think about what had just happened in the police station. I wanted to BE there with her during the incredible events as they happened, and I wanted to BE there when she had her horrible debriefing with the police.
What happens is that misunderstanding "don't start the story too soon" ends up violating "show, don't tell" in the most basic of ways, and that's even more detrimental to the story than infodumping backstory.
Luckily, it's not that hard to fix. The events are there, becuase you're describing them. Just back up, and describe them in active voice, unfolding them as they happen, without "had"ing the story to death.
I guarantee you'll have a better book.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
BIG new project
New projects are always exciting. I love meeting my characters, learning their stories, plotting them into and out of messes and despair (the pit of despair is one of my favorite places to start them off). I REALLY love discovering who the bad guy is (when there is a bad guy) and tying bits together from early in the book to later in the book.
The thing is, I love doing all this on my own. So Blue Silver is quite a challenge for me.
My publisher, Amber Quill Press, puts out collections called AmberPaxes. These are sets of five stories that are generally unconnected, but fit a theme. My story Elemental Passion in Bewitched, Bothered, and Beguiled was one of five different takes on magic. My upcoming story A Matter of Choice is in the Prying Eyes AmberPax, which is all about spies. I've done several of these now, and it's a lot of fun making my story fit the theme. But except for that one element, the story is all mine.
Now I'm part of something much more ambitious. Megan Hart, Jacki King, Penny Dawn, Ellie Marvel, and I are writing a collection that all centers around one band and two nights--the one in the past when our character's dreams were yanked out of their reach, and the one now where they get a second chance at capturing it. The stories all intertwine, with multiple characters participating in all the stories.
We've just gotten started (the collection and individual stories will be available in July 2006) and I'm having so much FUN. The brainstorming has been excellent, the worldbuilding falling nicely into place, and my fellow writers are all so good, it's a pleasure to read their character sketches, never mind their drafts.
I know collaborations don't always go smoothly, and I'm a huge control freak, so I'm really pleased with our progress and excited about the end results.
Stay tuned!
The thing is, I love doing all this on my own. So Blue Silver is quite a challenge for me.
My publisher, Amber Quill Press, puts out collections called AmberPaxes. These are sets of five stories that are generally unconnected, but fit a theme. My story Elemental Passion in Bewitched, Bothered, and Beguiled was one of five different takes on magic. My upcoming story A Matter of Choice is in the Prying Eyes AmberPax, which is all about spies. I've done several of these now, and it's a lot of fun making my story fit the theme. But except for that one element, the story is all mine.
Now I'm part of something much more ambitious. Megan Hart, Jacki King, Penny Dawn, Ellie Marvel, and I are writing a collection that all centers around one band and two nights--the one in the past when our character's dreams were yanked out of their reach, and the one now where they get a second chance at capturing it. The stories all intertwine, with multiple characters participating in all the stories.
We've just gotten started (the collection and individual stories will be available in July 2006) and I'm having so much FUN. The brainstorming has been excellent, the worldbuilding falling nicely into place, and my fellow writers are all so good, it's a pleasure to read their character sketches, never mind their drafts.
I know collaborations don't always go smoothly, and I'm a huge control freak, so I'm really pleased with our progress and excited about the end results.
Stay tuned!
Monday, January 09, 2006
I Can't Help Myself
I try to refrain from making any political statements on here, but my husband forwarded this to me today, and I LOVE IT. If anyone knows where it originated, please let me know so I can give proper credit.
10 Reasons Gay Marriage is Wrong:
1. Being gay is not natural. And as you know Americans have always rejected unnatural things like eyeglasses, polyester, and air conditioning.
2. Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people will make you tall.
3. Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because, as you know, a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage contract.
4. Straight marriage has been around a long time and hasn't changed at all; women are still property, blacks still can't marry whites, and divorce is still illegal.
5. Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage were allowed. The sanctity of Britney Spears' 55-hour just-for-fun marriage would be destroyed.
6. Straight marriages are valid because they produce children. Gay couples, infertile couples, and old people shouldn't be allowed to marry because our orphanages aren't full yet, and the world needs more children.
7. Obviously gay parents will raise gay children, since straight parents only raise straight children.
8. Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire country. That's why we have only one religion in America.
9. Children can never succeed without a male and a female role model at home. That's why we as a society expressly forbid single parents to raise children.
10. Gay marriage will change the foundation of society; we could never adapt to new social norms. Just like we haven't adapted to cars, the service-sector economy, or longer life spans.
10 Reasons Gay Marriage is Wrong:
1. Being gay is not natural. And as you know Americans have always rejected unnatural things like eyeglasses, polyester, and air conditioning.
2. Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people will make you tall.
3. Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because, as you know, a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage contract.
4. Straight marriage has been around a long time and hasn't changed at all; women are still property, blacks still can't marry whites, and divorce is still illegal.
5. Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage were allowed. The sanctity of Britney Spears' 55-hour just-for-fun marriage would be destroyed.
6. Straight marriages are valid because they produce children. Gay couples, infertile couples, and old people shouldn't be allowed to marry because our orphanages aren't full yet, and the world needs more children.
7. Obviously gay parents will raise gay children, since straight parents only raise straight children.
8. Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire country. That's why we have only one religion in America.
9. Children can never succeed without a male and a female role model at home. That's why we as a society expressly forbid single parents to raise children.
10. Gay marriage will change the foundation of society; we could never adapt to new social norms. Just like we haven't adapted to cars, the service-sector economy, or longer life spans.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
2006
A lot of my fellow bloggers are looking back at 2005, but I'm not feeling very inclined to do that. I'm too excited about moving forward.
I have three short stories and a book coming out this year. In theory. First short story is done, accepted, and nearing release. Second short story is nearly written, but not quite there yet. I'm a bit behind. Third short story is a major collaboration, very much fun but very difficult--and we haven't even really gotten to the hard work yet. The book is also way behind, but I'll get there.
I also have a major revision to do for a manuscript. It's challenging me. I think I can do it, and if I can do it right, it will bring all manner of good things. But fear that I can't do it right is hanging out there next to my muse.
I have high hopes that come June, I'll be a full-time writer/mother, which has been my dream for 10 years. It would be great if I could do it sooner, so I had more time to concentrate on the projects I listed above. But it's finally within reach, and I'm so excited I can't stand it.
I turned 35 a week ago. It feels stranger than any other number change has felt, and not in a "ohmygodI'msoold" kind of way. I have a huge sense of contentment and anticipation associated with that age. No idea why. We'll see if it comes to anything.
I'm not really setting resolutions this year. I was going to set goals (which, for some reason, aren't hypocritical and setups for failure the way resolutions are). But I don't feel inclined to do that, either. I have a daily spreadsheet already for my writing plan, and everything else has been ongoing forever, so setting something formal isn't going to affect it. I think I'm just going to take life as it comes, one day at a time, one step to the next, and see what happens.
Happy New Year to you all. May you be blessed with a 2006 filled with joy and accomplishment, devoid of pain and sorrow.
Everyone deserves at least one year like that.
I have three short stories and a book coming out this year. In theory. First short story is done, accepted, and nearing release. Second short story is nearly written, but not quite there yet. I'm a bit behind. Third short story is a major collaboration, very much fun but very difficult--and we haven't even really gotten to the hard work yet. The book is also way behind, but I'll get there.
I also have a major revision to do for a manuscript. It's challenging me. I think I can do it, and if I can do it right, it will bring all manner of good things. But fear that I can't do it right is hanging out there next to my muse.
I have high hopes that come June, I'll be a full-time writer/mother, which has been my dream for 10 years. It would be great if I could do it sooner, so I had more time to concentrate on the projects I listed above. But it's finally within reach, and I'm so excited I can't stand it.
I turned 35 a week ago. It feels stranger than any other number change has felt, and not in a "ohmygodI'msoold" kind of way. I have a huge sense of contentment and anticipation associated with that age. No idea why. We'll see if it comes to anything.
I'm not really setting resolutions this year. I was going to set goals (which, for some reason, aren't hypocritical and setups for failure the way resolutions are). But I don't feel inclined to do that, either. I have a daily spreadsheet already for my writing plan, and everything else has been ongoing forever, so setting something formal isn't going to affect it. I think I'm just going to take life as it comes, one day at a time, one step to the next, and see what happens.
Happy New Year to you all. May you be blessed with a 2006 filled with joy and accomplishment, devoid of pain and sorrow.
Everyone deserves at least one year like that.
Thursday, December 29, 2005
Fours Filler
A friend sent this to me, and I thought, "hey, something to put on my blog!" 'Cept I changed the answers to be mine, not hers. :)
So here goes:
FOUR WEBSITES YOU VISIT DAILY:
1. Orlando Bloom Multimedia
2. The Untitled Chad Darnell Project
3. Diana's Diversions
There are at least half a dozen more, but those are top of my list.
FOUR OF YOUR ALL-TIME FAVORITE RESTAURANTS:
1. Skewers on P Street in Washington, DC
2. Red Lobster
FOUR OF YOUR FAVORITE FOODS:
1. Popcorn
FOUR PLACES YOU'D RATHER BE RIGHT NOW:
1. Sleeping in my bed
2. Sleeping on the couch
So here goes:
FOUR JOBS YOU'VE HAD IN YOUR LIFE:
1. Geography Intern at National Geographic Society
2. Shoe store clerk
3. Pizza demonstrator at Kroger
4. Server/cashier at a concession stand on the beach
Those are just the fun ones. I've also been a sales clerk in a general/gift store, a dry cleaner, and Waldenbooks; a telemarketer for Olan Mills; a CSR for a long distance phone company; a proofreader, production manager, and traffic manager for a graphics design firm/ad agency; and operations manager for an occupational health services company, my current day job.
FOUR MOVIES YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER:
1. Lord of the Rings
2. Pirates of the Caribbean
3. Serenity
4. Galaxy Quest
This isn't fair. Picking four is just too hard. What about Speed and The Mummy and The Mummy Returns and every movie with Orlando Bloom????
FOUR BOOKS YOU LOVE:
1. Hot Target by Suzanne Brockmann (really, all her books)
2. It Had to Be You by Susan Elizabeth Phillips (really, the whole Chicago Stars series)
3. Watchers by Dean Koontz
4. Another Fine Myth by Robert Aspirin
This was even harder than the movies. These are by no means all my favorites. They're just books that stick out in my mind as hitting me hard at the time that I read them.
FOUR CITIES YOU'VE LIVED IN:
1. South Ruislip, England
2. Agawam, MA
3. Delaware, OH
1. Geography Intern at National Geographic Society
2. Shoe store clerk
3. Pizza demonstrator at Kroger
4. Server/cashier at a concession stand on the beach
Those are just the fun ones. I've also been a sales clerk in a general/gift store, a dry cleaner, and Waldenbooks; a telemarketer for Olan Mills; a CSR for a long distance phone company; a proofreader, production manager, and traffic manager for a graphics design firm/ad agency; and operations manager for an occupational health services company, my current day job.
FOUR MOVIES YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER:
1. Lord of the Rings
2. Pirates of the Caribbean
3. Serenity
4. Galaxy Quest
This isn't fair. Picking four is just too hard. What about Speed and The Mummy and The Mummy Returns and every movie with Orlando Bloom????
FOUR BOOKS YOU LOVE:
1. Hot Target by Suzanne Brockmann (really, all her books)
2. It Had to Be You by Susan Elizabeth Phillips (really, the whole Chicago Stars series)
3. Watchers by Dean Koontz
4. Another Fine Myth by Robert Aspirin
This was even harder than the movies. These are by no means all my favorites. They're just books that stick out in my mind as hitting me hard at the time that I read them.
FOUR CITIES YOU'VE LIVED IN:
1. South Ruislip, England
2. Agawam, MA
3. Delaware, OH
4. Silver Spring, MD
If, of course, by cities you mean "anywhere." I've never lived IN an actual city.
FOUR TV SHOWS YOU LOVE TO WATCH:
1. Firefly!!!!!!!
2. LOST
3. Alias
4. That 70s Show
Four too many, but it's been a long time since there have been four worth watching. If you insist on current shows rather than shows that have been off the air since, like, 2002, then substitute Prison Break for Firefly. Assuming Fox doesn't kill that, too.
FOUR PLACES YOU'VE BEEN ON VACATION:
1. The Caribbean (including Tulum, Mexico; Xunantunich, Belize; Nassau, the Bahamas)
If, of course, by cities you mean "anywhere." I've never lived IN an actual city.
FOUR TV SHOWS YOU LOVE TO WATCH:
1. Firefly!!!!!!!
2. LOST
3. Alias
4. That 70s Show
Four too many, but it's been a long time since there have been four worth watching. If you insist on current shows rather than shows that have been off the air since, like, 2002, then substitute Prison Break for Firefly. Assuming Fox doesn't kill that, too.
FOUR PLACES YOU'VE BEEN ON VACATION:
1. The Caribbean (including Tulum, Mexico; Xunantunich, Belize; Nassau, the Bahamas)
2. Williamsburg, VA
3. Killington, VT
4. Misquamicut, RI
The last one was just about every summer of my life, growing up, and as many summers as I could manage since. It's where we scattered my mother's ashes in May 2003
4. Misquamicut, RI
The last one was just about every summer of my life, growing up, and as many summers as I could manage since. It's where we scattered my mother's ashes in May 2003
FOUR WEBSITES YOU VISIT DAILY:
1. Orlando Bloom Multimedia
2. The Untitled Chad Darnell Project
3. Diana's Diversions
There are at least half a dozen more, but those are top of my list.
FOUR OF YOUR ALL-TIME FAVORITE RESTAURANTS:
1. Skewers on P Street in Washington, DC
2. Red Lobster
3. Neato Burrito
4. Passage to India
I don't know if Skewers is even there anymore, but man, 13 years later and I can still taste those beef kabobs and rice.
I don't know if Skewers is even there anymore, but man, 13 years later and I can still taste those beef kabobs and rice.
FOUR OF YOUR FAVORITE FOODS:
1. Popcorn
2. Ice cream
3. Filet mignon
4. Neato Burrito's custom taco salad with their jalapeno feta salsa
Nothing too crazy there.
Nothing too crazy there.
4. Agawam Junior High
And the nostalgia floodgates open...
FOUR THINGS YOU FIND YOURSELF SAYING A LOT:
1. Grrr. Argh. Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!
2. Hair turban
3. Good morning, Alternatives, Natalie speaking
And the nostalgia floodgates open...
FOUR THINGS YOU FIND YOURSELF SAYING A LOT:
1. Grrr. Argh. Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!
2. Hair turban
3. Good morning, Alternatives, Natalie speaking
4. HARRY POTTER IS NOT A HORCRUX
Firefly reference, daughter number two's nightly demand, self-explanatory, and see previous post
Firefly reference, daughter number two's nightly demand, self-explanatory, and see previous post
FOUR PLACES YOU'D RATHER BE RIGHT NOW:
1. Sleeping in my bed
2. Sleeping on the couch
3. Sleeping on my office futon
4. Sleeping on my husband's chest
The only reason Jim's at the end is 'cause I can't sleep there long. He snores and my neck hurts.
The only reason Jim's at the end is 'cause I can't sleep there long. He snores and my neck hurts.
Sunday, December 25, 2005
Thoughts on Christmas, Chanukah, and More
I don't remember when I first became uncomfortable with saying Merry Christmas to strangers. It seems it was long before I knew anyone who was Jewish...probably in high school, when I was working very hard at figuring out my personal spiritual identity. I get angry now at people who scream how wrong it is to say Happy Holidays instead, because it's a Christian holiday. I say it's common courtesy to acknowledge that you may not celebrate a Christian holiday, but I want you to be happy regardless.
I said something about Kwaanza and Africa lately, and a friend educated me a bit about Kwaanza and it being an American holiday that began in the 60s. She called it a made-up holiday. I laughed and said all holidays are made-up holidays. I think I offended her, because she distinguished between made-up and religious. I don't think religion makes a holiday any less made-up. It's just human beings deciding something is worth celebrating. Religion may make a holiday more important to someone who practices that religion, of course.
My favorite part of The Holidays, that time between Thanksgiving and January 2 and everything that's celebrated in between, is the focus everyone has on tradition. No matter what we celebrate and why, there are certain aspects of that celebration that resonate in each of us. Some decry the commercialism and crassness that accompanies it, but I don't have a problem with it. The fact is, the majority of us "buy into" such things out of love. Trampling people at 4:00 a.m. at Target may contradict the impulse, of course, but the reason we do it is because we know how excited our 80-year-old grandmother will be to get that cheap, multi-region DVD player for Christmas. And we want to give that excitement to her because we love her.
And it's not all trampling at Target, either. I couldn't believe the shoppers in Toys R Us on December 16. I swear they were pumping happy gas through the ventilation system. I usually hate crowds becuase you step back to let a couple of people by, and a hundred stream through, ignoring the fact that you're waiting patiently to take your turn, and in the meantime someone behind you decides they're more important than any of you and shoves past. There was NONE of that in Toys R Us. There were smiling, apologizing, considerate people down every aisle. Everyone was relaxed and calm and sweet and helpful. I don't think I've ever seen such a thing.
I bought seven copies of Serenity this year for gifts (including one for my own birthday present). A, because I want to share with all my closest friends this best of 2005 film, which was SO much better plotted, acted, and displayed than War of the Worlds. B, because even though our hopes are fading, there is still a slim chance of getting a sequel, and it all hinges on DVD sales. I also converted a customer and the cashier in line when I was buying them. They both planned to get it, and hopefully will follow up and get Firefly, too.
My kids write a letter to Santa every Christmas Eve, and he always supplies an answer. This year, they had questions for him related to the legends portrayed on Santa Claus is Coming to Town. He revealed, in his answers, that the original Rudolph died long ago, as all things do. My husband was quite sure this was a bad thing to say. My mother-in-law raised her eyebrows when they read the letter to her. My kids? Didn't even blink. Just goes to show. I don't know what, exactly, but it does.
Chanukah is, I guess, just revving up starting today, as Christmas winds down. I wish everyone of all faiths the happiest and most relaxed of whatever holiday they celebrate.
I'll close with something all of us can enjoy:
I said something about Kwaanza and Africa lately, and a friend educated me a bit about Kwaanza and it being an American holiday that began in the 60s. She called it a made-up holiday. I laughed and said all holidays are made-up holidays. I think I offended her, because she distinguished between made-up and religious. I don't think religion makes a holiday any less made-up. It's just human beings deciding something is worth celebrating. Religion may make a holiday more important to someone who practices that religion, of course.
My favorite part of The Holidays, that time between Thanksgiving and January 2 and everything that's celebrated in between, is the focus everyone has on tradition. No matter what we celebrate and why, there are certain aspects of that celebration that resonate in each of us. Some decry the commercialism and crassness that accompanies it, but I don't have a problem with it. The fact is, the majority of us "buy into" such things out of love. Trampling people at 4:00 a.m. at Target may contradict the impulse, of course, but the reason we do it is because we know how excited our 80-year-old grandmother will be to get that cheap, multi-region DVD player for Christmas. And we want to give that excitement to her because we love her.
And it's not all trampling at Target, either. I couldn't believe the shoppers in Toys R Us on December 16. I swear they were pumping happy gas through the ventilation system. I usually hate crowds becuase you step back to let a couple of people by, and a hundred stream through, ignoring the fact that you're waiting patiently to take your turn, and in the meantime someone behind you decides they're more important than any of you and shoves past. There was NONE of that in Toys R Us. There were smiling, apologizing, considerate people down every aisle. Everyone was relaxed and calm and sweet and helpful. I don't think I've ever seen such a thing.
I bought seven copies of Serenity this year for gifts (including one for my own birthday present). A, because I want to share with all my closest friends this best of 2005 film, which was SO much better plotted, acted, and displayed than War of the Worlds. B, because even though our hopes are fading, there is still a slim chance of getting a sequel, and it all hinges on DVD sales. I also converted a customer and the cashier in line when I was buying them. They both planned to get it, and hopefully will follow up and get Firefly, too.
My kids write a letter to Santa every Christmas Eve, and he always supplies an answer. This year, they had questions for him related to the legends portrayed on Santa Claus is Coming to Town. He revealed, in his answers, that the original Rudolph died long ago, as all things do. My husband was quite sure this was a bad thing to say. My mother-in-law raised her eyebrows when they read the letter to her. My kids? Didn't even blink. Just goes to show. I don't know what, exactly, but it does.
Chanukah is, I guess, just revving up starting today, as Christmas winds down. I wish everyone of all faiths the happiest and most relaxed of whatever holiday they celebrate.
I'll close with something all of us can enjoy:
Saturday, December 17, 2005
I HATE POTTERCAST
I discovered podcasts a couple of months ago, when I was seeking to feed my Firefly/Serenity addiction. I ran out of episodes of The Signal pretty quickly, so I looked for more stuff, and found Pottercast. It's produced by the people who do The Leaky Cauldron, and it's great. They have interviews with fans and cast and crew of the films and fun banter and stuff.
So anyway. The title of this entry is "I Hate Pottercast." So why am I praising it?
Well, the reason I hate it is not a rational one. It's all about sitting in my car, listening to intelligent, interesting people of all ages from all over the world voice theories that I disagree with, and NOT BEING ABLE TO TELL THEM.
Yes. I sit in my car shouting at my iPod. It's always something like this:
HARRY IS NOT A HORCRUX!!!!!
Oddly, no other theory I disagree with bothers me like this one does. Snape, Dumbledore, even Neville theories I find interesting, even when, IMO, way off base. But the Harry-or-his-scar-is-a-horcrux theory works me up.
Here's why:
1. Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow to kill Harry. He wouldn't have planned to make a horcrux out of him. A corpse wouldn't work so well, I'm thinking.
2. Creating a horcrux is very complex, deliberate magic. It can't happen by "accident."
3. Tom Riddle talked to Slughorn 50 years ago about creating horcruxes. He definitely killed more than 7 people before he tried to kill Harry. Knowing Harry (or Neville, but he decided it was Harry) was supposed to be his downfall, he'd have prepared well in advance of attacking him, even if he believed a baby was harmless to him.
4. If Harry is a horcrux, he would have to kill himself, then Voldemort. Can't happen. If his scar is a horcrux, he'd have to do something gruesome to it. I can't see JK Rowling going in that direction. She doesn't shy away from violence (sectum sempra) but she doesn't go into pure gore. (Note: This is someone else's argument, I didn't think of it on my own, but I can't give credit because I don't remember who said it.)
5. If Harry is a horcrux, it would change Voldemort's intent and knowledge on the night he tried to kill Harry, and though Rowling loves to surprise us, she always sets up her surprises well in advance. Hindsight shows us where she did so. So making us believe that Voldemort wanted to kill Harry for six books, then switching that completely in the seventh, is a cheap device I don't believe she would do.
There. Maybe someone at Pottercast will find this by virtue of the subject and read it. Just the possibility that they might will save me a lot of screaming in my car. :)
So anyway. The title of this entry is "I Hate Pottercast." So why am I praising it?
Well, the reason I hate it is not a rational one. It's all about sitting in my car, listening to intelligent, interesting people of all ages from all over the world voice theories that I disagree with, and NOT BEING ABLE TO TELL THEM.
Yes. I sit in my car shouting at my iPod. It's always something like this:
HARRY IS NOT A HORCRUX!!!!!
Oddly, no other theory I disagree with bothers me like this one does. Snape, Dumbledore, even Neville theories I find interesting, even when, IMO, way off base. But the Harry-or-his-scar-is-a-horcrux theory works me up.
Here's why:
1. Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow to kill Harry. He wouldn't have planned to make a horcrux out of him. A corpse wouldn't work so well, I'm thinking.
2. Creating a horcrux is very complex, deliberate magic. It can't happen by "accident."
3. Tom Riddle talked to Slughorn 50 years ago about creating horcruxes. He definitely killed more than 7 people before he tried to kill Harry. Knowing Harry (or Neville, but he decided it was Harry) was supposed to be his downfall, he'd have prepared well in advance of attacking him, even if he believed a baby was harmless to him.
4. If Harry is a horcrux, he would have to kill himself, then Voldemort. Can't happen. If his scar is a horcrux, he'd have to do something gruesome to it. I can't see JK Rowling going in that direction. She doesn't shy away from violence (sectum sempra) but she doesn't go into pure gore. (Note: This is someone else's argument, I didn't think of it on my own, but I can't give credit because I don't remember who said it.)
5. If Harry is a horcrux, it would change Voldemort's intent and knowledge on the night he tried to kill Harry, and though Rowling loves to surprise us, she always sets up her surprises well in advance. Hindsight shows us where she did so. So making us believe that Voldemort wanted to kill Harry for six books, then switching that completely in the seventh, is a cheap device I don't believe she would do.
There. Maybe someone at Pottercast will find this by virtue of the subject and read it. Just the possibility that they might will save me a lot of screaming in my car. :)
Motorola Rocks
Last week, on Thursday night, as I pulled my backpack out of the car, it bumped the car door. I keep my cell phone on a clip on the pocket, and I paused and glanced around, because it's always falling off. I didn't look very hard for it because it hadn't hit the ground.
That night, it snowed. About 8 inches. The next morning school was canceled and the day care had a two-hour delay and my street wasn't plowed, all of which equals...SLEEPING IN. I got up, shoveled out, and slllooooowwwllly drove the kids to day care. All morning, I couldn't find my phone.
Now, I'm from Massachusetts but live in South Central Pennsylvania. We are in a variable zone such that predicting the weather is difficult. Conditions can shift and change a forecast every hour. So we're constantly having predictions of six inches of snow and ice that amount to not a single flake when the time comes. Consequently, the municipalities have a very hard time budgeting and planning. The weather is treated with higher drama than ANY other news story. And the entire region panics, buying out entire stores full of bread and milk and canceling everything days in advance. Whereas I scoff and go about my normal business.
Anyway, because the boroughs don't want to run out of money for plowing and salting late in the season, they don't do it early in the season. I had thought my phone was in the car, but it wasn't, and conditions were bad enough that I didn't want to be on the highway without the phone. *I'm* fine driving in snow, but not everyone is. So I went home to look again, remembering on the way that I'd bumped the backpack on the door. Sure enough, the phone still wasn't in the house, not even hiding under the desk in the kitchen or behind the cereal on the counter.
I grabbed the snow shovel, gauged where the car had been, and shoveled about three square feet of grass. Sure enough, there was the phone. In single-digit temperatures for 14 hours, buried under 8-14 inches of snow (we'd cleared the driveway on top of it!).
I took it inside, dried it, charged it and, you guessed it. It works FINE.
I will never own any cell phone but Motorola.
That night, it snowed. About 8 inches. The next morning school was canceled and the day care had a two-hour delay and my street wasn't plowed, all of which equals...SLEEPING IN. I got up, shoveled out, and slllooooowwwllly drove the kids to day care. All morning, I couldn't find my phone.
Now, I'm from Massachusetts but live in South Central Pennsylvania. We are in a variable zone such that predicting the weather is difficult. Conditions can shift and change a forecast every hour. So we're constantly having predictions of six inches of snow and ice that amount to not a single flake when the time comes. Consequently, the municipalities have a very hard time budgeting and planning. The weather is treated with higher drama than ANY other news story. And the entire region panics, buying out entire stores full of bread and milk and canceling everything days in advance. Whereas I scoff and go about my normal business.
Anyway, because the boroughs don't want to run out of money for plowing and salting late in the season, they don't do it early in the season. I had thought my phone was in the car, but it wasn't, and conditions were bad enough that I didn't want to be on the highway without the phone. *I'm* fine driving in snow, but not everyone is. So I went home to look again, remembering on the way that I'd bumped the backpack on the door. Sure enough, the phone still wasn't in the house, not even hiding under the desk in the kitchen or behind the cereal on the counter.
I grabbed the snow shovel, gauged where the car had been, and shoveled about three square feet of grass. Sure enough, there was the phone. In single-digit temperatures for 14 hours, buried under 8-14 inches of snow (we'd cleared the driveway on top of it!).
I took it inside, dried it, charged it and, you guessed it. It works FINE.
I will never own any cell phone but Motorola.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Smart Cat
We have a rather large dog:
And a rather dainty cat:
Their food dishes are rather close together. I don't have a photo, but it's something like this:
______
______ (dog)
xxxxxxxxxxx______
xxxxxxxxxxx______ (cat)
Both animals are fed at the same time. Dolly, the dog, is not dainty like Maya, the cat. She gobbles her food, then heads for the water. She drinks with such gusto and splashes and drips so much of it that my kids run screeching, "tsudoggie, tsudoggie!"
Yesterday, my husband noticed that when the dog started drinking, the cat retreated to the dining room, sat and waiting patiently, and when the dog left, went back to her dish.
Poor thing. I'd noticed that she interrupted her eating, but not why. I figured she had to use the litter box halfway through or something. Oh, well, she figured out how to deal with it on her own!
And a rather dainty cat:
Their food dishes are rather close together. I don't have a photo, but it's something like this:
______
______ (dog)
xxxxxxxxxxx______
xxxxxxxxxxx______ (cat)
Both animals are fed at the same time. Dolly, the dog, is not dainty like Maya, the cat. She gobbles her food, then heads for the water. She drinks with such gusto and splashes and drips so much of it that my kids run screeching, "tsudoggie, tsudoggie!"
Yesterday, my husband noticed that when the dog started drinking, the cat retreated to the dining room, sat and waiting patiently, and when the dog left, went back to her dish.
Poor thing. I'd noticed that she interrupted her eating, but not why. I figured she had to use the litter box halfway through or something. Oh, well, she figured out how to deal with it on her own!
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Popcorn Love Affair
Very little in my life has as much meaning for me as popcorn.
Popcorn was Our Treat when I was growing up. Popped in oil in a saucepan, coated in real butter and salt. It was my mother’s treat first, and I would lie in bed, listening to the kernels hit the pan, and it was a comforting sound. Maybe because it meant she was there, keeping me safe, doing what she could to make me happy and healthy. Maybe—and more likely—it was comforting because it meant she was doing something to make herself happy. That was an extremely rare thing when I was growing up.
When I was older, popcorn, made as described above, was a family thing. We sat around a giant wooden popcorn bowl, passing around the hand towel, while we watched the earliest incarnation of Must See TV, when NBC first began dominating Thursday night with the Cosby Show. Later, when we finally got a VCR, it was movie nights on the weekends. Popcorn represented family togetherness.
Eventually, my mother remarried, and my stepfather made his one significant contribution to our household. Prior to this marriage, we poured the melted butter (melted in the popping pan, because we had no microwave) over the popcorn, salted it, and carried the salt into the living room with the bowl so we could add more when we got down into it.
My stepfather taught us about tossing. He made the BEST popcorn in the universe, and it’s to him I owe my own reputation for popcorn-making. You spoon butter over the popcorn, salt it, and then toss the bowl so it all mixes together. Repeat until the whole bowl is coated. Perfect!
Over the years, we switched to air-popped corn and butter substitutes in an effort to be healthier in our indulgences. Movie popcorn, special on its own because of the experience that went along with it, began to decline (it has never recovered). Microwave popcorn came along, but was rarely worth chomping. In 1991, my mother gave me and my then-fiancé her air popper. We lived in a pretty small apartment, and the popper—the kind that blows the hot air and the popped kernels out of a chute into a bowl—regularly shot hot, UNpopped kernels from the kitchen counter, across the room, through the bathroom door, and into the tub.
In 1995 we bought a better popper, one that kept all the corn in the container. For a long time it was sufficient, but I was really fooling myself. My mother would come visit, and I’d make ’corn, and she’d complain that it was hard in the center. She sent me this super-great popcorn from Connecticut that…turned out to be just as hard. Which meant the problem was my old popper. But I couldn’t find another hot air popper that didn’t shoot the kernels across the room.
So I said the hell with it. I started cooking it on the stove again, and it was wonderful. Light and fluffy and just right to collect the butter. But I now have a flattop stove, and shaking a pan on it isn’t such a good thing. So a couple of years ago I bought a new old-fashioned popper with the turning handle.
Perfect.
Nostalgia aside, what does popcorn mean to me now?
It means I really can make something unique to me that my husband and kids love and will always beg me to make. It means legacy.
It also means stress removal. On the worst non-crisis days of my life, I can snuggle in with popcorn and a book, and relax. Nothing else in the world can do this so easily. And in a world like ours, this is a really good thing to have available.
It means continuity. When I make popcorn, I feel my mother (now deceased), and I sense my brother way off in Texas, and the threads connecting us even when we don't talk for weeks and weeks.
It means I have to go make some right now. :)
Theories Shmeories
I was reading a post on a blog recently about Choice Theory. A man had admonished the poster to just let go of all the things that make her stressed, not pick them up again, and be 100% her. That she has a choice regarding the things that stress her out.
Geez.
Okay, some of it was on the button. People tend to get very stressed about things they can’t control, and I would agree that some of them should be let go of. But the way this guy was talking, he was saying that everything you do is your choice and you need to dig deep and work hard to make the choices that don’t stress you out.
Paraphrasing quite a bit there, but that’s what I got out of it.
One of the commenters said most proponents of Choice Theory seem to be men, and another commenter said maybe that’s because men tend to focus on one thing at a time, while women focus on multiple things.
I don’t tend to like philosophies that divide men and women, because nothing’s that neat. For example, it seems to be accepted knowledge that men want to solve problems, women listen and sympathize. I am SO not good at just listening and sympathizing. I try to fix EVERY PROBLEM someone puts in front of me. And I’m also SO not a man.
But let’s adjust it to be that proponents of Choice Theory tend to focus on one detail at a time, and those who don’t like CT tend to see all the entanglements associated with the choice.
For example.
Having to rush home to pick up my kids on time, then feed them, then make sure all their homework and practice and studying and chores are done, then catching up on their days and getting them showered and ready for bed and sometimes throwing in family reading or game playing time and making sure they don’t watch too much TV and eat a balanced dinner and get enough exercise?
THAT’S what stresses me out. But most choices I could make to change that would cause other problems that would create the same, but different stress.
Like, I could leave my family. Or quit my job so I’m home sooner so that whole paragraph doesn’t have to be done in three hours. I’m sure the consequences of those choices are obvious, though they would eliminate the stress.
I can’t just up and leave those stresses.
Which makes me wonder. Does someone who gives that advice do it in an effort to really help? Or because they have a need to feel superior to the average person?
Bad Service
I order a lot from the Internet. Especially clothes, because I’m very picky and very difficult to fit. So I’ll order a bunch of stuff, try it on, and keep what I like. What I don’t like I pack back up, mark on the packing slip why I’m returning it, seal it, and slap on the label they provide. Some of them even supply prepaid UPS labels. I pay the shipping later, but I don’t have to stand in line. And my refund usually comes through within days.
Maybe I’m spoiled. But a few weeks ago I ordered a backpack from a reputable online retailer. I didn’t like it. But they had no packing slip or proof of purchase or anything in the box. I had to call them (have I mentioned how much I hate the phone? I even order pizza online) to get an RMA number. Then ship it back. Then wait forever for the refund, minus a 15% restocking fee. And though they provide a 30-day deadline to return the merchandise, there’s no indication of how long they’ll keep my money.
So not too much later I found a better item at another retailer. Two potential items, actually. I ordered both, because they were excellent prices and I couldn’t tell which one would work better.
The first problem was that even though the image was of the brown leather, the default color was black, and I didn’t notice until I’d finalized the sale. I called immediately and waited on hold forever. When someone finally answered, I explained my problem and asked if there was any way to change the color of one of the items. She said, “uuuuhhhhh….not until you get it” in this whiny, dumb-blonde voice (I’m not saying she was a dumb blonde, just that she sounded like one). I should have asked for the supervisor, but decided to see if the item was workable before I worried about it. If I liked it, I’d exchange it. If I didn’t, I’d just send it back.
Man, I should have talked to the supervisor.
It took nearly two weeks to get them, something else I’m not used to, but I didn’t gripe. One item just didn’t work for me. The other was perfect, but black when I wanted brown. So I went online for the return process. Because this company ALSO provided no purchase info in the box and requires authorization for return.
At least they have an online process. But when I went online, it only allowed me to select one item at a time. I wanted to return both. I had trouble getting labels. I couldn’t tell if I had authorization to return both or not, but I was to get an e-mail. I decided to wait.
And wait and wait and wait. Every two days I’d get a response to my communication. First they wanted to know why I wanted to return one item, because the system didn’t send the reason through. I explained why I wanted to return both. I got two separate return labels that incorporated the restocking fee and the postage I would pay if I sent both items separately.
Duh!
I finally got authorization to return them and paid for the postage myself, which was half of what they were trying to charge me.
But that’s not all. I subscribed to LOST magazine way back in mid-September. The first issue was supposed to go on sale October 4. The web site said it could take up to 8 weeks for the next available issue to arrive, but I kind of discounted that because it’s a bimonthly magazine and the next available issue was only a couple of weeks away.
They took my money immediately. I did not get my magazine. It became November. I e-mailed them for the status. No response. I called them for a status and had to leave a message because they have “regular business hours” instead of the usual full customer service hours. I got no response.
Finally I got an e-mail back that my subscription had been processed and would start with the second issue. I immediately fired back that they had plenty of notice to send me the first issue and I wanted the first issue. I got an immediate response that I’d get a full subscription, five issues plus a yearbook. But starting with issue #2.
I almost let it go. But then I thought about it. The second issue isn’t until December, which meant I had to wait another four weeks, and they would have had my money for 12 weeks without supplying me with the product. That’s just unacceptable to me. I told her to cancel my subscription.
No response.
When did the customer become the enemy? I understand that companies need to protect themselves from idiots and scammers and general overexpense. And I've worked in customer service, so I'm not unsympathetic to the travails of the individual CSR.
But if the cable company can turn things around (the last two times I had to get the cable guy out, they admitted their own culpability in my problems, spent plenty of time and quality product fixing it, and didn’t charge me a dime), then these simple retailers should be able to get it together.
Needless to say, I don’t expect to buy from any of those companies again.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Rock with Passion
This is going to be a random assortment of thoughts about the Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert I just got home from.
Oh. My. God.
Please note that I have gone to this concert every year since they started touring. This was my seventh one. And that's still my reaction.
Oh. My. God.
If you have a chance to see this concert, you really should try. It's rocked-out Christmas music. It's a rock opera with a very touching story. It's a Gregorian Chant combined with an 18th century orchestral piece played with driving drums and rockin' guitar. It's Beethoven's Fifth with flameballs.
It's a freakin' electric violin.
I'm sure all good musicians play with passion. But these people are different. This is three months of intense touring. They're playing three shows in two days just in Hershey, and they were in Connecticut three days ago. I don't know how anyone can keep up that level of intensity, but they all manage to make each show look just as fun as the last one.
Each year the show gets bigger and better. I find the history of the band as inspiring as the music and the performers, and I never get tired of it. I admit to a special...um...fondness for Dave Z, the bass player, who is also a member of ZO2.
Anyway, I guess the bottom line is that every year, this show and these people inspire me to attack my own craft with the same passion with which they attack theirs. My dream is to someday make someone feel about my books as I do about their music.
And in the meantime, I'll just engage in annual swooning.
Thursday, November 24, 2005
The Thankful Boat
Last year, my kindergartener brought a new tradition to our holiday.
Our friend Cheryl used to care for her after school. They made a milk-carton models of the Nina and at Thanksgiving, we all wrote on slips of paper what we were thankful for. Then we went around the table, drawing the slips from the boat and reading them aloud.
This was our second year of the tradition, and we really like it. It doesn't put anyone on the spot, especially when you've got a crowd of family at various levels of relationship, and everyone has time to think of what they want to say. It also gives the kids a bigger role in the day's activities, besides drowning out the football games and spilling their milk at the kids' table.
So, here's what we're thankful for this year:
I am thankful...
...for my friends and teachers. I wish them a long and happy life.
...for our house still standing straight.
...that right now I have no major worries.
...because my family loves me.
...for all the things I have and all the things I love. I wish all the things [people] I love to live a long and happy life.
...that I have a dream worth pursuing and people who help me pursue it.
...for having such wonderful kids who respect themselves as well as Mommy and Daddy.
...for my marriage to a man who balances my strengths and weaknesses and loves me in spite of them.
...for my room and my bed being in there.
...to have the children I have and that I wouldn't change a thing about them.
...for being me.
...for having a roof over our heads, food on the table, and love in our hearts.
...for vacation and breaks.
...for our kids getting older so I can sleep in with Mommy. [smiley face with zzzzz]
...for my mom and dad and my sister.
...for games. Silly, I know, but games to play with children, games to watch my children play, games of football to watch, and computer games for me to play.
Our friend Cheryl used to care for her after school. They made a milk-carton models of the Nina and at Thanksgiving, we all wrote on slips of paper what we were thankful for. Then we went around the table, drawing the slips from the boat and reading them aloud.
This was our second year of the tradition, and we really like it. It doesn't put anyone on the spot, especially when you've got a crowd of family at various levels of relationship, and everyone has time to think of what they want to say. It also gives the kids a bigger role in the day's activities, besides drowning out the football games and spilling their milk at the kids' table.
So, here's what we're thankful for this year:
I am thankful...
...for my friends and teachers. I wish them a long and happy life.
...for our house still standing straight.
...that right now I have no major worries.
...because my family loves me.
...for all the things I have and all the things I love. I wish all the things [people] I love to live a long and happy life.
...that I have a dream worth pursuing and people who help me pursue it.
...for having such wonderful kids who respect themselves as well as Mommy and Daddy.
...for my marriage to a man who balances my strengths and weaknesses and loves me in spite of them.
...for my room and my bed being in there.
...to have the children I have and that I wouldn't change a thing about them.
...for being me.
...for having a roof over our heads, food on the table, and love in our hearts.
...for vacation and breaks.
...for our kids getting older so I can sleep in with Mommy. [smiley face with zzzzz]
...for my mom and dad and my sister.
...for games. Silly, I know, but games to play with children, games to watch my children play, games of football to watch, and computer games for me to play.
Friday, November 18, 2005
Cinema Is Not Dead
Last night, a friend talked me into attending the midnight showing of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Regular Indulge Yourself blog readers and those familiar with my Passions page will not be surprised to hear I eagerly jumped on this idea, despite the two hours of sleep it would mean. On a work night.
For me, movies are not just a form of entertainment. They are an experience. There is something unique about the big screen, the Dolby surround, the smell of the theater, the feel of the seats, the energy of being in a crowd. I love the previews and the music over the credits and watching at home can't even come close to duplicating it. So this year I've been very dismayed by the whole Box Office Situation. Mediocre films (Fantastic Four) and outright bad ones (War of the Worlds) did okay but not always what their hype foresaw. Good films (Elizabethtown and Kingdom of Heaven) and great ones (Serenity) were failures, either real or perceived. It all generated a fear in me that the movies I like, the ones I eagerly go to the theater to see, won't be made anymore.
Well, I'm happy to say my fear is premature. Maybe it's a no-brainer that HP will do well, but more importantly, it has saved the whole movie experience for me.
We had a new movie theater open in June. Every time I've been there, the theater has been only half full, even for films I expected to be a big draw. It worried me, because this theater is part of a family-owned chain and more vulnerable, I believe, to the whims of the marketplace.
Well, color me stunned. This midnight show on a school/work night was packed. And I mean sold out, every seat filled half an hour before show time, when normal show times have an empty theater that far before the start of the movie. There was cheering when the film started, and that set up that energy I mentioned earlier. We're talking college-age and young adult attendees here, not teeny-boppers or kids. It was very heartening.
How about the movie itself? I mean, War of the Worlds made over $200 million and it was the worst movie I've seen since Catwoman.
Goblet of Fire is definitely the best Harry Potter movie yet. It was condensed and stripped and modified, and I wasn't thrilled with ALL of the changes from the book, but it was meaty and well-acted and really, really funny.
Sorcerer's Stone was an experiment. Even with Chamber of Secrets, the jury was out on whether these kids could act, whether they could fulfill the expectations generated by JK Rowling's wonderful characterization and storytelling. Prisoner of Azkaban convinced me they could, but in Goblet of Fire, they have really come into their own. Especially Daniel Radcliffe, who was oh-so-earnest in the first film and is now good enough to mine his and others' experiences and convince us he's really feeling what he's supposed to be feeling.
Most of the rest of the casting is as superb as ever. Many students and teachers from past editions are marginalized, but there is still enough Snape to make Megan sigh, and Neville gets a much greater role, something in which nerds everywhere (and I'm one) can rejoice.
Probably the best surprise of this film is the humor. The book has plenty of it, a lot generated by things that aren't in the movie, like the old man in his housecoat at the Quidditch World Cup, Stan Shunpike trying to impress a Veela, and Dobby the House Elf. The movie manages to make everyday comments and images funny. Fred and George are a hoot (would always love to see more of them!) and though Brendan Gleeson's interpretation of Mad-Eye Moody is much different from Jim Dale's, he does a great job.
Ralph Fiennes is a superb Voldemort, and I'm looking forward to more of him in Order of the Phoenix. I'd like Michael Gambon to settle his Dumbledore down a little, however.
My only REAL complaint is that after a year that saw a new book and a new film, the delay before the next one of each will be, once again, far too long (book 7 is not to be worked on until next year, probably not finished until 2007, and not published until 2008, and OP the movie starts filming in a few months, to be released in June 2007).
For me, movies are not just a form of entertainment. They are an experience. There is something unique about the big screen, the Dolby surround, the smell of the theater, the feel of the seats, the energy of being in a crowd. I love the previews and the music over the credits and watching at home can't even come close to duplicating it. So this year I've been very dismayed by the whole Box Office Situation. Mediocre films (Fantastic Four) and outright bad ones (War of the Worlds) did okay but not always what their hype foresaw. Good films (Elizabethtown and Kingdom of Heaven) and great ones (Serenity) were failures, either real or perceived. It all generated a fear in me that the movies I like, the ones I eagerly go to the theater to see, won't be made anymore.
Well, I'm happy to say my fear is premature. Maybe it's a no-brainer that HP will do well, but more importantly, it has saved the whole movie experience for me.
We had a new movie theater open in June. Every time I've been there, the theater has been only half full, even for films I expected to be a big draw. It worried me, because this theater is part of a family-owned chain and more vulnerable, I believe, to the whims of the marketplace.
Well, color me stunned. This midnight show on a school/work night was packed. And I mean sold out, every seat filled half an hour before show time, when normal show times have an empty theater that far before the start of the movie. There was cheering when the film started, and that set up that energy I mentioned earlier. We're talking college-age and young adult attendees here, not teeny-boppers or kids. It was very heartening.
How about the movie itself? I mean, War of the Worlds made over $200 million and it was the worst movie I've seen since Catwoman.
Goblet of Fire is definitely the best Harry Potter movie yet. It was condensed and stripped and modified, and I wasn't thrilled with ALL of the changes from the book, but it was meaty and well-acted and really, really funny.
Sorcerer's Stone was an experiment. Even with Chamber of Secrets, the jury was out on whether these kids could act, whether they could fulfill the expectations generated by JK Rowling's wonderful characterization and storytelling. Prisoner of Azkaban convinced me they could, but in Goblet of Fire, they have really come into their own. Especially Daniel Radcliffe, who was oh-so-earnest in the first film and is now good enough to mine his and others' experiences and convince us he's really feeling what he's supposed to be feeling.
Most of the rest of the casting is as superb as ever. Many students and teachers from past editions are marginalized, but there is still enough Snape to make Megan sigh, and Neville gets a much greater role, something in which nerds everywhere (and I'm one) can rejoice.
Probably the best surprise of this film is the humor. The book has plenty of it, a lot generated by things that aren't in the movie, like the old man in his housecoat at the Quidditch World Cup, Stan Shunpike trying to impress a Veela, and Dobby the House Elf. The movie manages to make everyday comments and images funny. Fred and George are a hoot (would always love to see more of them!) and though Brendan Gleeson's interpretation of Mad-Eye Moody is much different from Jim Dale's, he does a great job.
Ralph Fiennes is a superb Voldemort, and I'm looking forward to more of him in Order of the Phoenix. I'd like Michael Gambon to settle his Dumbledore down a little, however.
My only REAL complaint is that after a year that saw a new book and a new film, the delay before the next one of each will be, once again, far too long (book 7 is not to be worked on until next year, probably not finished until 2007, and not published until 2008, and OP the movie starts filming in a few months, to be released in June 2007).
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