Monday, April 7, 2008
The blog to which I never post
Eh, but I'm busy at work and there isn't much else going on. Trying to keep the house clean (my mom and dad kindly provided attic-to-floor cleaning a few weeks ago), getting consumed badly enough by sand gnats that my arms and legs resemble a chicken pox victim's, writing, not reading enough, and totally wishing Dexter existed in real life and I could date him. And there you have it.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Random update
In case anyone is reading this...
1. Had to drop my class. No time. I am planning to take it online next quarter instead.
2. How do you house-train a puppy who likes to be outside and play outside but does not like to relieve himself outside and will wait to go potty until you take him back inside?
3. Is Britney really bipolar? I think she's a spoiled brat with narcissistic personality disorder. I am writing an essay about this, sort of--more about where the line is between what you can and can't help, where mental illness gives way to personal responsibility and vice versa.
4. Speaking of bipolar, I am reading the last Tim Dorsey novel that's out in paperback, Hurricane Punch. What am I gonna do for the next 11 months as I wait for Atomic Lobster to cycle through the hardcover phase? No Serge A. Storms fix? I was trying to pace myself, but the books are way too addictive for that. If I had half as much fun as Serge when I quit taking my meds, I'd never swallow a pill again.
5. Occasionally, in trying to catch up on reading the books I've stockpiled for years, I come across one that is delightful and surprising and makes me realize there's an entire ouevre of work by this author that I haven't even tapped. The Certificate by Isaac Bashevis Singer is the most recent of these. How have I never read him before?
1. Had to drop my class. No time. I am planning to take it online next quarter instead.
2. How do you house-train a puppy who likes to be outside and play outside but does not like to relieve himself outside and will wait to go potty until you take him back inside?
3. Is Britney really bipolar? I think she's a spoiled brat with narcissistic personality disorder. I am writing an essay about this, sort of--more about where the line is between what you can and can't help, where mental illness gives way to personal responsibility and vice versa.
4. Speaking of bipolar, I am reading the last Tim Dorsey novel that's out in paperback, Hurricane Punch. What am I gonna do for the next 11 months as I wait for Atomic Lobster to cycle through the hardcover phase? No Serge A. Storms fix? I was trying to pace myself, but the books are way too addictive for that. If I had half as much fun as Serge when I quit taking my meds, I'd never swallow a pill again.
5. Occasionally, in trying to catch up on reading the books I've stockpiled for years, I come across one that is delightful and surprising and makes me realize there's an entire ouevre of work by this author that I haven't even tapped. The Certificate by Isaac Bashevis Singer is the most recent of these. How have I never read him before?
Monday, January 14, 2008
Back to school
In all my visions of someday returning to school for a Ph.D., the idea that I would find myself in a first-year intro class to fulfill a basic prereq never, ever crossed my mind. Yet now I am taking Survey of Western Art I with a bunch of kids who are in their second term of college.
Having always loathed the "nontraditional" (read: older) students who tried to buddy up to the prof and dominated every class discussion, I am determined not to be that person. At the same time, I understand that person a little better now. When school is something you choose and not just the taken-for-granted next step after high school, maybe you view even your basic core requirements less as hoops to jump through than as opportunities to learn. I'm not paying for this class, yet I am getting more out of it (and putting more into it) than most of my peers are--and than I ever would have/did in their situation. Also, whereas I was so shy it hurt to look anyone in the eye in college, I actually want to participate now (and didn't freak out when I saw that participation was part of the grade, which I usually did in college because that meant I'd either have to talk or plan for a deduction off my grade).
I'm still struggling with this new identity of "nontraditional student." I deliberately signed up for a professor whom I knew, a little, and that's been a good element. When she took attendance the first day, she kind of laughed and said, "I saw your name on the roster and thought, 'I wonder if that's the same person I know!'"
On the first evening, I thought I had garnered some cool points for myself: When we had to go around the room and name our favorite artists, the goth kid at the front of my row said his included Brian Warner and Maynard James Keenan (Marilyn Manson and the Tool/Perfect Circle frontman, respectively, for the uninitiated). So at the break, I asked him if he'd seen either of them perform their art, and he hadn't. I told him I'd seen Manson in a small club back in '95, we chatted for a few minutes, then I mentioned that I've also seen Tool. "I can tell that you and I are gonna be friends," he says. I spend the rest of the evening congratulating myself for having the nerve to talk to the cool kid with black nail polish (in college, I never started a conversation with someone I didn't know, let alone anyone who looked cool) and reassuring myself that maybe I'm not as obsolete and lame in the eyes of my classmates as I fear.
Those feelings get shot to heck Thursday evening before class, when the kid next to me is talking to the kid behind me and makes a comment about "my black-metal book." He pulls Lords of Chaos out of his backpack, and without even thinking I exclaim, "Oh, I have that book! It's really good, and I bought a bunch of Emperor stuff after I read it." He gives me this completely dismissive look for about half a second--the "uh-huh, really, how nice, I could not care less" look--and turns to his friend. I sit there for the subsequent five minutes of their conversation feeling like an idiot and thinking, "When Ashes of Heaven* comes out and every goth/freak/black metal kid on the planet wants to hang out with me, he's really going to feel like a jerk for writing me off like that." Yeah. High school redux.
Oh well. At the break, the prof came over to talk to me about an e-mail I'd sent her, and one of the female students sort of hovered nearby. When the prof asked her what was up, the girl said she wanted to apologize for any future occasions on which she comes to class late. She explained that she has to take the shuttle from another classroom building (we'll call it Bldg A), and due to the regular tardiness of the bus and the need to change buses, she isn't sure she will always make it in time.** I ended up giving her my business card with my cell number on it. I'm at the office until I leave for class, I told her, and I take my car even though I work fairly close to our class (Bldg B), because I don't want to have to walk back to my car after dark alone. It would take a grand total of 10 minutes for me to stop by Bldg A on my way to class and pick her up. I don't know whether she'll call, but she seemed grateful.
If I can't be cool, at least I can be thoughtful, right?
*Ashes of Heaven is my on-the-back-burner-for-now, but-still-alive-in-my-head novel about a black metal band in central P.A. whose members burn churches and ultimately conjure the demon Azazel during a concert. I probably have 300 or 400 pages of it written; it needs to be organized a bit better and tightened up, and I have to figure out what actually happens after Azazel shows up. It's on the when/IF I ever finish Nightmares of Lost Ghosts pile.
**There's a half hour between classes, which should be sufficient to get from one place to another but isn't always. The shuttles are notoriously unreliable (although better now than they used to be). If you're more than 15 minutes late to class, you're considered absent; four absences means automatic failure. So she really is screwed if the buses are late or full, or if she misses her connection. And I remember how as a first-year student you don't always have a lot of leeway in what your schedule ends up looking like; you kind of have to sign up for whatever sections are still available. And the location of Bldg A is such that she should certainly not walk, especially alone, to or from it, which the prof and I both emphasized to her.
Having always loathed the "nontraditional" (read: older) students who tried to buddy up to the prof and dominated every class discussion, I am determined not to be that person. At the same time, I understand that person a little better now. When school is something you choose and not just the taken-for-granted next step after high school, maybe you view even your basic core requirements less as hoops to jump through than as opportunities to learn. I'm not paying for this class, yet I am getting more out of it (and putting more into it) than most of my peers are--and than I ever would have/did in their situation. Also, whereas I was so shy it hurt to look anyone in the eye in college, I actually want to participate now (and didn't freak out when I saw that participation was part of the grade, which I usually did in college because that meant I'd either have to talk or plan for a deduction off my grade).
I'm still struggling with this new identity of "nontraditional student." I deliberately signed up for a professor whom I knew, a little, and that's been a good element. When she took attendance the first day, she kind of laughed and said, "I saw your name on the roster and thought, 'I wonder if that's the same person I know!'"
On the first evening, I thought I had garnered some cool points for myself: When we had to go around the room and name our favorite artists, the goth kid at the front of my row said his included Brian Warner and Maynard James Keenan (Marilyn Manson and the Tool/Perfect Circle frontman, respectively, for the uninitiated). So at the break, I asked him if he'd seen either of them perform their art, and he hadn't. I told him I'd seen Manson in a small club back in '95, we chatted for a few minutes, then I mentioned that I've also seen Tool. "I can tell that you and I are gonna be friends," he says. I spend the rest of the evening congratulating myself for having the nerve to talk to the cool kid with black nail polish (in college, I never started a conversation with someone I didn't know, let alone anyone who looked cool) and reassuring myself that maybe I'm not as obsolete and lame in the eyes of my classmates as I fear.
Those feelings get shot to heck Thursday evening before class, when the kid next to me is talking to the kid behind me and makes a comment about "my black-metal book." He pulls Lords of Chaos out of his backpack, and without even thinking I exclaim, "Oh, I have that book! It's really good, and I bought a bunch of Emperor stuff after I read it." He gives me this completely dismissive look for about half a second--the "uh-huh, really, how nice, I could not care less" look--and turns to his friend. I sit there for the subsequent five minutes of their conversation feeling like an idiot and thinking, "When Ashes of Heaven* comes out and every goth/freak/black metal kid on the planet wants to hang out with me, he's really going to feel like a jerk for writing me off like that." Yeah. High school redux.
Oh well. At the break, the prof came over to talk to me about an e-mail I'd sent her, and one of the female students sort of hovered nearby. When the prof asked her what was up, the girl said she wanted to apologize for any future occasions on which she comes to class late. She explained that she has to take the shuttle from another classroom building (we'll call it Bldg A), and due to the regular tardiness of the bus and the need to change buses, she isn't sure she will always make it in time.** I ended up giving her my business card with my cell number on it. I'm at the office until I leave for class, I told her, and I take my car even though I work fairly close to our class (Bldg B), because I don't want to have to walk back to my car after dark alone. It would take a grand total of 10 minutes for me to stop by Bldg A on my way to class and pick her up. I don't know whether she'll call, but she seemed grateful.
If I can't be cool, at least I can be thoughtful, right?
*Ashes of Heaven is my on-the-back-burner-for-now, but-still-alive-in-my-head novel about a black metal band in central P.A. whose members burn churches and ultimately conjure the demon Azazel during a concert. I probably have 300 or 400 pages of it written; it needs to be organized a bit better and tightened up, and I have to figure out what actually happens after Azazel shows up. It's on the when/IF I ever finish Nightmares of Lost Ghosts pile.
**There's a half hour between classes, which should be sufficient to get from one place to another but isn't always. The shuttles are notoriously unreliable (although better now than they used to be). If you're more than 15 minutes late to class, you're considered absent; four absences means automatic failure. So she really is screwed if the buses are late or full, or if she misses her connection. And I remember how as a first-year student you don't always have a lot of leeway in what your schedule ends up looking like; you kind of have to sign up for whatever sections are still available. And the location of Bldg A is such that she should certainly not walk, especially alone, to or from it, which the prof and I both emphasized to her.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Christmas past...
I am back from Colorado, along with (finally) my luggage. Brief highlights from the trip:
- Driving down the steep grade of I-70 toward Denver, we come upon a horse trailer holding a reindeer. Anna (SIL) says, "Wouldn't it be funny if Santa were driving?" Then we pull abreast of the vehicle towing the trailer, and Santa actually is driving!
- Getting to see Derek and Anna's new house, meet a few of their friends, and hang out with them and their dog, Chief.
- Sleeping on a heated waterbed.
- Visiting the huge Chick-fil-a by my parents' house, where they were so busy they actually had a person outside directing drive-thru and parking lot traffic.
- Seeing my parents; playing Boggle, Taboo and Pictionary with everyone; staying in a cute, rustic, cozy cabin in Estes Park.
- The look on my dad's face when Derek and I ordered Rocky Mountain oysters for an appetizer at Christmas dinner. (Disgusted expression or not, he still had to sample them.)
- Among the suckage that was my trip back yesterday, highlights were getting a free meal coupon from the airline and getting re-booked to a window seat in first class. Less enjoyable was spending four extra hours in DIA after getting about an hour of sleep the previous night, and arriving in JAX to find that my luggage had not. Fortunately, it is here now.
- Seeing this critter and her pals again:
- Going to pick up this guy in a few minutes:
Monday, December 17, 2007
update
wow, i haven't blogged since november. guess there isn't much going on outside of work.
bishop's doing okay, learning stuff, responding to training, just not so much when we're at petsmart (where they inevitably say, "is he in puppy class? no? he needs to be."). i've decided to install a screen door between the kitchen and laundry room after the holidays, and puck is going to go live in the laundry room. last night i was trying to train bishop, and he was supposed to be sitting and staying, and puck bolted out of hiding and smacked him really hard in the back, with no provocation whatsoever. so bishop ended up on my lap trying to climb up my head, for which i can't exactly blame him. puck also peed on my pillow friday night, so while i can't bring myself to cast him outside, he does need his own space where he can't attack the dog or wreck my stuff.
fade refused to eat his rat last night, so i let the thing go in the backyard. i haven't seen cleoratra in weeks, but there seems to be digging activity going on near her rubbermaid, so i think she's still around. i guess if she and rattila get together to procreate, i can just set sadie and/or bishop loose for a little while, and they should be able to take care of the problem.
leaving for colorado wednesday. keep your fingers crossed that this year's trip is nothing like last year's debacle. if nothing else, at least i know now to pack my meds in my CARRY-ON.
bishop's doing okay, learning stuff, responding to training, just not so much when we're at petsmart (where they inevitably say, "is he in puppy class? no? he needs to be."). i've decided to install a screen door between the kitchen and laundry room after the holidays, and puck is going to go live in the laundry room. last night i was trying to train bishop, and he was supposed to be sitting and staying, and puck bolted out of hiding and smacked him really hard in the back, with no provocation whatsoever. so bishop ended up on my lap trying to climb up my head, for which i can't exactly blame him. puck also peed on my pillow friday night, so while i can't bring myself to cast him outside, he does need his own space where he can't attack the dog or wreck my stuff.
fade refused to eat his rat last night, so i let the thing go in the backyard. i haven't seen cleoratra in weeks, but there seems to be digging activity going on near her rubbermaid, so i think she's still around. i guess if she and rattila get together to procreate, i can just set sadie and/or bishop loose for a little while, and they should be able to take care of the problem.
leaving for colorado wednesday. keep your fingers crossed that this year's trip is nothing like last year's debacle. if nothing else, at least i know now to pack my meds in my CARRY-ON.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Why I don't work out
Me: I really do need to start working out. I'm going to put on some music and dance around the house for awhile.
[Cue up song, start dancing]
Bishop: Ooh, she's dancing! I think I'll jump up on her!
Me: OW! Down!
Sebastian: Hey, dance over here so I can climb on your head! Actually, I just want to crawl up and cuddle under your chin. Sit down with a book so I can do that, OK?
Inanna: Oops, what just happened? Oh, I stepped on the keyboard of the laptop and killed the iTunes. Sorry!
Puck: HellOOO! I am supposed to be HBIC! Stop dancing and pet me.
Bishop: Now I am REALLY gonna jump up on her, because she's holding Sebastian too!
Me: OK, fine. Bishop, let's see how well I can dance holding a 30-lb weight.
Bishop: What the heck is she doing?! ...OK, she finally put me down. I'm going to jump up again.
Me: OWWW! OK, I know the vet said he'd clip the toenails next time, but screw that. Sit, Bishop. I'm getting the nail clippers.
[The rest of my workout devolves into a wrestling match with Bishop, who is NOT keen on having his nails clipped.]
[Cue up song, start dancing]
Bishop: Ooh, she's dancing! I think I'll jump up on her!
Me: OW! Down!
Sebastian: Hey, dance over here so I can climb on your head! Actually, I just want to crawl up and cuddle under your chin. Sit down with a book so I can do that, OK?
Inanna: Oops, what just happened? Oh, I stepped on the keyboard of the laptop and killed the iTunes. Sorry!
Puck: HellOOO! I am supposed to be HBIC! Stop dancing and pet me.
Bishop: Now I am REALLY gonna jump up on her, because she's holding Sebastian too!
Me: OK, fine. Bishop, let's see how well I can dance holding a 30-lb weight.
Bishop: What the heck is she doing?! ...OK, she finally put me down. I'm going to jump up again.
Me: OWWW! OK, I know the vet said he'd clip the toenails next time, but screw that. Sit, Bishop. I'm getting the nail clippers.
[The rest of my workout devolves into a wrestling match with Bishop, who is NOT keen on having his nails clipped.]
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Inconvenient truths and convenient oversights
First off, thanks to Stowe for my new design and very cool new header (happy Christmas to me)!
*******
Having never seen the film An Inconvenient Truth, I decided to buy the book when I saw it on a bargain shelf a few weeks ago. And I've had (perhaps not surprisingly) a very mixed reaction to it.
First off, there is no doubt in my mind that people in general and Americans in particular need to seriously curtail our polluting/ trashing everything with chemicals/ clear-cutting forests/ strip-mining for jewelry/ raping the earth in myriad other ways. On the one hand, I'm appalled by how much crap I produce or use in the course of my daily life (chemical shampoo, gasoline, disposable food packaging, cell phone, chemical cleaning products, cranking up the heat, etc., etc., and I don't even want to know how many rain forests have been destroyed to make all the books I own), and on the other hand, I'm amazed that the earth has managed to straggle on without falling to pieces long ago.
Al Gore gave me some good ideas. As mentioned in the previous post, I bought reusable tote bags at Kroger, and I have been using them at other stores as well. If I only buy a few items, I have been asking not to have them bagged. I am sorting my recycling. (My Denver friends tell me they have curbside recycling; they toss everything into a bin and it gets picked up with the trash and they don't even have to sort it themselves! In Savannah, you have to not only sort it, but drive way the hell out to the ghetto to find the one place where you can recycle everything. So that's gonna be the real challenge for me.) I got biodegradable bags for dog poop (provided, of course, that the puppy, whose name is now Bishop, ever decides to poop somewhere outside my house). I've been using post-consumer, non-bleached recycled paper towels and non-chemical cleaners (the problem is many of them are ammonia-based, which isn't so good with cats). I even bought recycled cotton wrapping paper for Christmas gifts.
Surprisingly to me, I already was doing more stuff right than I realized, which is kind of cool.
Gore advocates CFLs (compact fluorescent lightbulbs), but I heard from another reliable source that although CFLs last far longer, they also contain dangerous levels of mercury that we should not be tossing away in landfills. I need to do more research to find out whether this is true. If it is, it's hugely disturbing.
A lot of Gore's suggestions either 1) cost far, far more disposable income than I have (you know, getting new appliances, re-insulating your house, buying a hybrid car), and/or 2) involve taking political action. And while I know laws need to change, I'm very distrustful of politicians and lawmakers. I guess I am more of an advocate of grassroots, personal decisions, so that's where I am right now.
The whole politician problem plays into Gore's book, too. Even though he claims he has retired from public office, he's still a politician. He devotes a disproportionate amount of text to talking about himself, his time in office, all the wonderful things he did, and how he has always been a forward-thinking advocate for the environment. All of that might be true, and some of it is useful background, but it became cloying after awhile. It's definitely overkill.
He's also disgustingly disingenuous about certain things--the most offensive, to me, being his handling of Hurricane Katrina. Katrina may have been caused by global warming, and New Orleans would not have flooded without Katrina. But I think it's a virtual certainty that the worst of the devastation wasn't caused directly by the hurricane; it was because the levees had not been built to standard and broke. And the storm could well have lost a lot of velocity if the wetlands hadn't been constantly eroded for the past century, and had been able to absorb more of the water. Multiple administrations--including Clinton/Gore--lied about the levees and did nothing to stop destruction of the wetlands. So it's a little hard to stomach the way he manipulates images of people on cots in the Superdome and the flooded city to underscore his argument about global warming. He conveniently ignores the role he and his administration played in failing to prevent the crisis.
I noticed in at least one case, too, that his "before" and "after" photos of a vanishing glacier weren't shot at quite the same distance. There's no doubt the glacier had noticeably and significantly shrunk in the second photo, but the lens covered a broader area, too. Barren slopes on the side of the glacier added to the look of desolation. The slopes weren't in the first photo, so you couldn't tell how much had melted and how much hadn't been there in the first place. That subtle manipulation of the perspective wasn't even necessary; the images clearly made the point they were supposed to make, so why manipulate it at all?
In the end, I am glad I read the book, but I'm a little disappointed too.
*******
Having never seen the film An Inconvenient Truth, I decided to buy the book when I saw it on a bargain shelf a few weeks ago. And I've had (perhaps not surprisingly) a very mixed reaction to it.
First off, there is no doubt in my mind that people in general and Americans in particular need to seriously curtail our polluting/ trashing everything with chemicals/ clear-cutting forests/ strip-mining for jewelry/ raping the earth in myriad other ways. On the one hand, I'm appalled by how much crap I produce or use in the course of my daily life (chemical shampoo, gasoline, disposable food packaging, cell phone, chemical cleaning products, cranking up the heat, etc., etc., and I don't even want to know how many rain forests have been destroyed to make all the books I own), and on the other hand, I'm amazed that the earth has managed to straggle on without falling to pieces long ago.
Al Gore gave me some good ideas. As mentioned in the previous post, I bought reusable tote bags at Kroger, and I have been using them at other stores as well. If I only buy a few items, I have been asking not to have them bagged. I am sorting my recycling. (My Denver friends tell me they have curbside recycling; they toss everything into a bin and it gets picked up with the trash and they don't even have to sort it themselves! In Savannah, you have to not only sort it, but drive way the hell out to the ghetto to find the one place where you can recycle everything. So that's gonna be the real challenge for me.) I got biodegradable bags for dog poop (provided, of course, that the puppy, whose name is now Bishop, ever decides to poop somewhere outside my house). I've been using post-consumer, non-bleached recycled paper towels and non-chemical cleaners (the problem is many of them are ammonia-based, which isn't so good with cats). I even bought recycled cotton wrapping paper for Christmas gifts.
Surprisingly to me, I already was doing more stuff right than I realized, which is kind of cool.
Gore advocates CFLs (compact fluorescent lightbulbs), but I heard from another reliable source that although CFLs last far longer, they also contain dangerous levels of mercury that we should not be tossing away in landfills. I need to do more research to find out whether this is true. If it is, it's hugely disturbing.
A lot of Gore's suggestions either 1) cost far, far more disposable income than I have (you know, getting new appliances, re-insulating your house, buying a hybrid car), and/or 2) involve taking political action. And while I know laws need to change, I'm very distrustful of politicians and lawmakers. I guess I am more of an advocate of grassroots, personal decisions, so that's where I am right now.
The whole politician problem plays into Gore's book, too. Even though he claims he has retired from public office, he's still a politician. He devotes a disproportionate amount of text to talking about himself, his time in office, all the wonderful things he did, and how he has always been a forward-thinking advocate for the environment. All of that might be true, and some of it is useful background, but it became cloying after awhile. It's definitely overkill.
He's also disgustingly disingenuous about certain things--the most offensive, to me, being his handling of Hurricane Katrina. Katrina may have been caused by global warming, and New Orleans would not have flooded without Katrina. But I think it's a virtual certainty that the worst of the devastation wasn't caused directly by the hurricane; it was because the levees had not been built to standard and broke. And the storm could well have lost a lot of velocity if the wetlands hadn't been constantly eroded for the past century, and had been able to absorb more of the water. Multiple administrations--including Clinton/Gore--lied about the levees and did nothing to stop destruction of the wetlands. So it's a little hard to stomach the way he manipulates images of people on cots in the Superdome and the flooded city to underscore his argument about global warming. He conveniently ignores the role he and his administration played in failing to prevent the crisis.
I noticed in at least one case, too, that his "before" and "after" photos of a vanishing glacier weren't shot at quite the same distance. There's no doubt the glacier had noticeably and significantly shrunk in the second photo, but the lens covered a broader area, too. Barren slopes on the side of the glacier added to the look of desolation. The slopes weren't in the first photo, so you couldn't tell how much had melted and how much hadn't been there in the first place. That subtle manipulation of the perspective wasn't even necessary; the images clearly made the point they were supposed to make, so why manipulate it at all?
In the end, I am glad I read the book, but I'm a little disappointed too.
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