Pennies for My Thoughts

A reaction to Stephen Bloom

2011-12-31T18:26:00.003+01:00

Relatively recently, Stephen Bloom wrote an article for The Atlantic on how he viewed Iowa. He refers to it as “a place of bizarre contrasts”,mentioning its status as the second state to allow gay marriage, and thenspends the rest of the article explaining how very rural and conservative itis.

The thing that got to me the most about this article was nothow very rural and conservative Iowa is – there are certainly many conservativethings about Iowa and many Iowans, although Bloom himself says at the beginningthat it’s a state of contrasts, with a very liberal Democrat as one of itssenators – but this sentence here: In a perfectworld, no way would Iowa ever be considered representative of America, or evena small part of it.

Why? Why would a state that is ranked 30^th in population (outof 50, obviously – so just under halfway, and about half a million people offof exactly halfway in the rankings) not be considered representative of America? Why would astate that has one conservative and one liberal Senator not be consideredrepresentative of America? And, here’s my biggest question, if Iowa is notrepresentative of America, what state is?

My experience of Iowa – as someone who grew up on the Missouri River,just over the border from Iowa, who has family in Iowa, but who also has familyon the East Coast, West Coast, and overseas – is one of the contrasts thatBloom mentions, not just the rural conservatism he focuses on. Do I know peoplewho hunt? Sure. And they then have venison or pheasant for meals the rest ofthe season. Do I know people who are rabidly anti-gun,vegetarian or vegan, andwouldn’t dream of killing an animal even to eat it? Of course. One of the bestplaces I know to get organic food and vegan food is in Iowa. Do I know peoplewho go to church on a regular basis? Sure. Do I know atheists, Jews, Hindus,Mormons, and people who claim Christianity but haven’t been inside a church in years? Of course. Towns in Iowaare insular? So are neighborhoods in Nottingham – and, I would imagine, NewYork.

Iowa has cities – not New York style cities, but only 2% of the USpopulation lives in New York City – as wellas small towns. Iowa has symphony orchestras, and rock concerts, and films. Iowahas public radio and television, and art galleries, and the Iowa Writer’sWorkshop. Iowa has a plethora of small businesses as well as big box stores. Iowahas universities and colleges, airports, and the hometown of a formerPresident. This may surprise Stephen Bloom, even though he’s lived in Iowa for20 years or so, but Iowa has electricity, running water, telephones, and accessto the internet.

I also couldn’t help but notice that most of his ridicule was about theolder generation of Iowans – at least 50 years old and over. They wear hats,they carry a penknife, they answer the phone with their last names, etc.Somehow I don’t think some of those are unique to Iowa.

But my main question to Stephen Bloom is this: If Iowa, a microcosm ofboth liberal and conservative, containing elements of both urban and rural, isn’trepresentative of the US, what is? Should we focus on the eleven biggest states,which Wikipedia says have 56% of the population, and ignore the other 39 with44%? Do we need to revisit the arguments that led to the House ofRepresentatives having proportional representation while the Senate had equalrepresentation? Do I need to remind him that the US is supposed to be for allpeople, regardless of creed, colour, or political stripe?

Also, if you really hate it that much, there’s nothing stopping you fromleaving. I-80 (I’ve only ever heard it called simply the Interstate by peoplewho don’t have access to another interstate – like, say, I-29 or I-35, also inIowa – or to distinguish it from one of the many US or state highways that alsocriss-cross the state, when giving driving directions) is right there. Oh,wait, you say that academia is facing many of the same employability problemsthat you mention about farming and manufacturing? Funny how that didn’t make itinto your article.....I suppose it was just too easy to fall back onto therural stereotypes that people have been using for the last hundred and fiftyyears or more.

P.S. If you've read Bloom's article, please please read this one too - it's another, better-than-mine, response.

Thinking about the future

2011-12-11T12:51:00.001+01:00

I’ve been reading through the Wordpress.com Post-a-day prompts, and I have noticed that there is some repetition. This isn’t totally surprising, as it would be very difficult to come up with 365 completely unique post ideas. It is often said that there are no truly original ideas - just adaptations and original ways of portraying them - and that is what I’ve noticed among these prompts. It also helps that the vaguely repetitive ideas are spaced out quite a lot, so, if you were doing these prompts in a timely manner, you might not notice. Certainly there’s possibility for wide variation in the treatment of the prompts: later prompts about protesting, for example, pull in reactions to the Occupy movement where earlier ones might be less specific and more philosophical.

One of the trends I noticed among the prompts is thinking about the future. Write a letter to yourself to be read in a year. Or ten years. Where do you want to be in ten years. Come up with a bucket list. Or a list of life goals. Is 2011 anything like you’d thought it would be in 2001, and what do you think 2021 will be like.

I sometimes think about doing these prompts, but I run into problems. I write a bucket list, but then realise that there’s nothing preventing me from accomplishing some of these things apart from spending my time writing a bucket list (or surfing the internet or watching TV) instead of getting started on things like learning Japanese/French/Arabic or revising my novel. I have a list of books I want to read, and there’s nothing actively preventing me from reading them except my own relative apathy and procrastination.

The other problem I have is just thinking about the future. I learned very quickly that the future rarely turns out like you expect it to. I certainly didn’t expect to end up in Slovakia. I didn’t expect that the only full-time work I’d be able to find with a Master’s degree would be as a barista. I didn’t expect to find Jon. It’s good to have goals, of course, but I have found that setting those goals too far in the future almost guarantees that something will come up to change them.

I can’t think about the future. At this point, I can’t see past February, when my current visa runs out. (Goal for today: at least one job application and compiling the paperwork for the next visa.) I can’t even fathom what my 31st birthday will be like. I certainly can’t think as far ahead as 2021. Will we be married? Have kids? Still be in Nottingham? Still working? I have no idea. It’s completely dark to me. And this isn’t a depression-based thing, either - I don’t think that I’ll be dead or anything. I just don’t have an image for what it will be.

I have goals, of course. I want to stay in the UK, get a non-minimum-wage job, stay with Jon. But those are all either short-term or continual goals, not ticks on a long-term list.

Ramblings about the EU and the Euro

2011-12-11T02:20:00.001+01:00

I feel like writing, but I don’t quite have the inspiration or attention span to focus on fiction and/or poetry, so instead I’m just going to ramble. I keep being fascinated by Wordpress’s Post-a-Day topics, even though I don’t have the discipline to actually do them. So I’m going to ramble based on some of these topics.

First up: The Euro.

Well, more accurately, the EU. The topic as given by Wordpress is “What is the future of the Euro? With all the trouble in Greece, Spain and Italy, do you think the currency will survive? Do you understand why there are multiple currencies in the world? Do you wonder why there isn’t just one kind of currency? Do you think your nation’s money is better looking, or worse, than other nations?”

I’m just going to adapt that to my general feelings on the EU, touching on the monetary issues even though I don’t quite have the expertise to completely understand it all.

First of all, sometimes I have heard the EU referred to as “The United States of Europe”, mostly in a derogatory way. This frustrates me no end, and not because I am from the US. No, it’s because that’s inaccurate. The EU is not like the US is now. It’s so much more like the US was under the Articles of Confederation.

Under the Articles of Confederation, the states were much more like independent countries. They had much more control over both their internal and external policies, and could opt in or opt out of the “national” demands. The national government had a bit of control over defense, but not the range of responsibilities that the current federal government has. In the same way, Brussels has certain responsibilites, but the member states can opt in or opt out of some things. And the Euro is probably the best example of this. If the EU were like the current US, the Euro would be used across the region, Brussels would have the responsibility for minting and regulation, and when one member state went bankrupt, it wouldn’t completely demolish the overall economy. California was bankrupt a few years ago, but the US didn’t completely implode. (*note: this is one of those areas where I don’t have details or expertise to back up my statements - just the vague impressions that I’ve gotten from headlines*)

But, just from living in the UK, I do know that the EU doesn’t have the same control or influence over its member states that the US has over its. At the moment, it’s an alliance, not even close to a nation - more like NATO than the US. I don’t know if it will survive in its current form - the Articles of Confederation didn’t - and certainly the Euro problems at the moment are shaking things up.

I think the Euro will survive, at least within the Schengen group (and, yes, I know that there are a few countries in Schengen that aren’t on the Euro yet). I think the convenience of not having to convert money, for both individuals and corporations, will outweigh any drawbacks or pride issues involved with switching currencies. It only makes sense for a region with no (or almost no) border checks to have the same currency. If you’re taking the bureaucratic hassles out of international travel through a region, take them all out.

The problem with the Euro, as with all currency, is that it’s an intermediary in a barter system, and based almost entirely on trust. We trust that our little pieces of metal and bits of fabric-paper will be accepted in place of actual goods or services. And when we travel, we are assured that our historically relevant bits of fabric-paper can be translated into somewhere else’s historically relevant bits of fabric-paper. And the reason that a global single currency won’t work in the foreseeable future is because of that trust aspect. There are plenty of places in the world right now where there is no trust - not just places like Greece, which is publicly melting down, but places like Egypt where the government is in transition, or North Korea, which doesn’t trust anybody. Until there is global economic trust, there will be no global currency.

The last bit of the WordPress prompt is about currency appearance, something I am also a bit fascinated with at the moment. First, US currency is ridiculously boring. It’s a bit better now that they’ve added colours to some of the bills, but overall it’s one of the most monotonous currencies I’ve seen. I kind of can’t believe that in a country with so much emphasis on disabled rights and access and all - there are Braille instructions on drive-through ATMs - the paper currency is still all one size.

Second, I work in retail, so I handle money almost every day. Every once in a while someone hands over a Scottish note - and once even a note from Northern Ireland - and I can’t resist looking at it, over and over again. I wonder so many things about currency - who the figures are, mostly, and why they were chosen for specific denominations. Whenever I travel, I study the money. Euros can be fun sometimes because, although its a single pan-European currency, the coins are marked with specific countries’ designs, so it can become a collecting mania. Same with quarters in the US, and the newest designs of coins in the UK with the partial shields.

Third, money can be an important cultural touchstone. When I was teaching, I always did at least one class about the currency of the US and the UK (and Canada, when I could find pictures). There are linguistic nuances to money - buck, quid, etc. - cultural differences with prices and taxes, and also just appearance differences. By going through currencies with my students (and the associated cultural things), I hope I made them a bit more prepared for experiences in those countries, so that they don’t just hold out their hands saying “Your money baffles me,” spend twenty minutes ranting about why a little kiosk won’t take their traveller’s checks, or expect to pay with a $20.00 for something marked at $19.99 in the US.

Wordpress post on Blogspot!

2011-10-30T01:12:00.001+02:00

The wordpress “post-a-day” prompt a while ago was “Name one thing you wish you could go back and change about your education.” My wordpress blog is dedicated to my reading life, so I’m blathering about it here.

From a quality perspective, I have no dissatisfaction with my education. I went to excellent schools for high school, undergraduate, and postgraduate studies. What I would change, if I had the chance, would be some of my choices. There’s more than one thing that plays into it. Some of it is the difficulty that English non-education majors have in finding appropriate paid work. (I currently work as a barista.) Some of it is the fascination of the paths not taken.

The main thing I would change would be studying more math and statistics. I am not uneducated in math – I took AP Calculus in high school and a refresher calculus course at Luther that ended up being far too easy to keep me motivated. I wish that I had bothered to continue on with it. I wish I had studied more statistics so that I could have moved more easily from literature to linguistics – a field that is coming to fascinate me more and more.

The other thing that I would change about my educational experience, if I could, would be to pay more (read: any) attention to career possibilities. It’s all well and good to say “You have a liberal arts education; you can do anything” but in a world where specialisation has become the norm, a liberal arts degree – the idea of a Renaissance man (person) – has become archaic and dismissed. I support liberal arts degrees. I think it’s important that people have experience, education, and interests in a wide variety of things, and that liberal arts educations are more likely to provide analytical and communication skills that are necessary in every field. But as I have learned to my cost over the last decade, employers want the relevant piece of paper. If I had documented proof of my math/stats/linguistics/scientific interests, I would find it a bit easier to find gainful employment. If I had work experience in a field, I would be more able to find a career in that field.

There’s also the problem of paralysis of choice. Sure, I *can* do anything with a liberal arts education; by extension, though, I can also do nothing. It might have been easier to start with a specific career that I could then change from, rather than drifting from job to job, trying to find something I enjoy, answering “anything but this” to the question of what I want to do with my life. I am an educated, literate and numerate individual. Unfortunately, some hiring managers look at the English degree and assume that the last part of that description isn’t valid. And my last few jobs in retail haven’t done much to change that perspective on paper.

Of course, just having more of an emphasis on math and stats may not have made much of a difference to my life and career, but I can’t help thinking – looking at all the job descriptions requiring someone with a numerate degree – that it would have helped a little.

Requests for customers, from your friendly neighborhood barista

2011-10-29T23:33:00.001+02:00

Requests for customers, from your friendly chain store barista

1. Two things we need to know when you’re ordering: the size of your drink, and whether you’re staying in or taking away. Everything else is stuff you want us to know.

2. Try to at least glance at the pricing board. This has all sorts of useful information on it, like how many sizes we offer, what they’re called, and the price. This way you won’t be surprised by how much your total is.

3. “Normal,” “ordinary,” and “regular” don’t tell us anything about either the size or the type of drink you want. What is normal to you may be unthinkable to someone else. Ordering “coffee” has the same effect.*

4. When there are three options for sizes, you can’t go wrong calling them “small,” “medium,” and “large.”

5. Please don’t come to the till before the cashier at least makes eye contact. We may have things to do to finish off the previous order, other non-till-related responsibilities, or be at the end of our shift. It will save frustration for everyone if you wait.

6. If you have asked for drinks in takeaway cups, please take them away. The same goes for food or drink from somewhere else: if you finish it in our store, please dispose of it yourself.

*True story: A customer once asked for “black Americano, and a coffee with soya” – and then got upset with me when I made her an Americano with soya milk, because she had wanted a soya latte.

Depression Is.... (My symptoms)

2011-07-17T17:32:00.000+02:00

Depression is…..

- Uncontrollable tears – not sobbing, just tears – whenever you’re alone and sometimes when you’re not.

- Oversensitivity to rejection, real or imagined

o Guilt about feeling rejected

§ Frustration at yourself for feeling guilty about feeling rejected

- Complete lack of appetite

o Nausea when you don’t eat

o Nausea when you do eat

- Physical exhaustion from anything that expends either mental or physical energy

- Attempting to be cheerful when other people are around

o Physical and mental exhaustion at trying to be cheerful

o Resentment that other people won’t understand how hard you’re trying to be cheerful

§ Guilt over feeling resentful

- Uncontrollable annoyance at other people’s cheerfulness or good fortune

o Guilt over feeling annoyed

§ Frustration with yourself for feeling guilty about being annoyed

- Seesawing between insomnia and sleeping fourteen hours per day

- Uncontrollable annoyance or anger over things that are minor or even funny when you’re normal

- The desire to do nothing but stare at the wall, or maybe the TV, for hours

o Guilt that you’re not spending your time being more productive

§ Frustration that even when you try to be productive, things don’t happen the way you want them to

o Flitting from activity to activity trying to find something that will distract you for more than five minutes

It’s my birthday too, yeah…

2011-03-10T17:34:00.000+01:00

I turn thirty this weekend. I’m only slightly freaking out about it. Mostly, I just can’t believe that I’m (almost) thirty. Where did my twenties go? (answer: mostly to Slovakia)

I’ve been thinking a lot about birthdays and my past birthday celebrations lately – mostly because people keep asking what I’m going to do to mark thirty. For the record, I’m not doing anything huge. I’ve invited a few friends out for dinner and then back to mine to play very interactive video games (like, Rock Band, or Kinect Adventures). There are a few reasons for this. Mostly, it comes down to the fact that I’m not a big-group type person. I would so much rather hang out with a few close friends than go out clubbing or something with a big group.

Another reason is that my last two birthdays have had massive celebrations. Two years ago, when I turned 28, my good friend (and now housemate) turned 22 just a couple of weeks later. The coincidence of our ages adding up to 50 was too good to pass up, so we had our joint 50th birthday party – an epically huge celebration. I mostly remember that party for being the “I am surrounded by guys now!” party [I never really made it out of the kitchen, and looked around at one point to realize that I was the only girl in the kitchen, and I was surrounded by about 7 guys, all listening and talking to me. This has been a fairly rare occurrence in my life. It was cool.] as well as my “I am a beautiful princess” party.

Last year, I turned 29, my friend turned 23, and the boys in our house turned 24, all in February and March. Add those ages together, and you get 100. So we had our cumulative 100th birthday party – another epically huge celebration. There are several memorable things about that party: the costumes, some of the attendees….but for me the best part was staying up until 5:30 am talking to my housemate – who is now my boyfriend. (And then mock-blaming him the next week for having gotten me sick for my birthday.)

Nothing could really beat the last two years in scale, so this year I’m going smaller.

The last reason that I’m doing something low-key for my thirtieth is because my favourite birthday celebrations have been the smaller ones. My twelfth birthday is memorable not for a party, but for the Twinkies that took the place of my golden birthday cake, in part because we were road tripping to see some distantish cousins. For my 24th birthday, my first in Slovakia, my friends from one of the other schools made the trek down to my village to surprise me (and surprise me they did!). It was wonderful. And my 22nd birthday was simultaneously one of my worst and best birthdays. It was a good day, overall: my three closest friends and I hung out in my room, eating cake and pizza, watching Friends episodes, and talking. That was pretty much my ideal birthday, and is kind of what I want to recreate this year. [The “worst” part came about 9:30 that night, when my parents called to tell me that my grandma had just died, and happy birthday. But since I have no more living grandparents, I’m pretty sure that I won’t be recreating that part…]

I can’t let a discussion of my birthday go without a shoutout to my two best birthday buddies: Adrienne, my actual birthday buddy – we met in kindergarten and have lost touch since I moved away, but I always think of her on our birthday [happy 30th, Adrienne!] – and Dwight, my somethingth cousin somethingth removed and surrogate grandfather for a while.

Be nice to your baristas

2011-02-11T13:32:00.000+01:00

I work at a coffee shop now, if you didn’t know. It’s a very busy franchise coffee shop; it kind of runs us all off our feet. Now, I don’t drink coffee, and before this I’d never made coffee. The learning curve was steep. But here are some things that I’ve picked up over the last month that I want to share with you, our potential customers.

1. Your default is not necessarily our default. There’s a reason that certain things say “By request” on our menu board – skim milk, decaffeinated coffee, soya. It means you have to request them. The time to request them is when you are ordering. If the barista has time, she’ll confirm whether it’s skim milk or not (for example) as she’s making your drink. Usually we don’t have time. Please don’t ask, as we’re handing it over, whether or not it’s skim. Certainly don’t ask, as we’re handing it over, whether or not it’s skim when you haven’t mentioned skim before. We will remake your drink if you want us to. We will then bitch about you in the back room. To summarize: if you want one of our “by request” options, request it.

2. Most drinks cannot be made simultaneously. This is why the queue gets so long. It’s not even the espresso in most cases. It takes 25 seconds for a normal double shot of espresso and 35 seconds for a normal triple shot. The part that takes so long is the milk.

The following kinds of coffees/hot drinks cannot be made simultaneously: lattes, cappuccinos, Americanos, hot chocolate, flat whites. Drinks with skim milk, soya milk, and whole milk also cannot be made simultaneously. Each espresso machine has three drip slots, so we can’t make more than three drinks at a time. Our favourite orders are the ones with three or fewer identical drinks. Our least favourite orders are the ones with four or more different drinks.

If you come in with an order of two lattes, one with skim milk, a cappuccino, and a hot chocolate, your order will take longer simply because we can’t make any of those drinks at the same time. We’re working as fast as we can, but we are limited by the fact that we can’t make any of these drinks simultaneously.

3. If the details don’t matter, then don’t let the details matter. If there is a genuine reason to have us remake your drink, we will apologetically do so. Genuine reasons include making the wrong drink (i.e., a cappuccino instead of a latte) or using something which, for a medical reason, you can’t have (not making decaf, for example). Using the wrong milk (whole instead of skim), especially if you didn’t request skim at the till, is not necessarily a valid reason to have us remake your drink. Putting too much or too little flavoured syrups into the drink is definitely not a valid reason to have us remake your drink. (see below) We’ll remake it if you ask us to, of course. We will then bitch about you in the back room.

4. The person making your drinks doesn’t usually know that they are your drinks. Here’s what happened to me the other day: I had an order for two vanilla lattes and a something else (can’t remember, not important to the story). As I was making the vanilla lattes, one of the customers waiting asked, “Is that the vanilla latte? Can you add a bit more vanilla?” I hadn’t seen the order be taken, so it was reasonable for me to assume that this order was for this customer, so I added a bit more vanilla (maybe two pumps more). It wasn’t until she asked where her muffin was that I discovered that her vanilla lattes were actually at the other counter, and that the vanilla lattes I had made were for someone else. (Who then said, “there’s extra vanilla in that one? I only want the normal amount of vanilla.” And I had to remake the drink. Seriously, the amount of flavoured syrup is not a valid reason to remake a drink.)

5. If you’re sitting in, please sit at a table that doesn’t have dirty dishes on it. When we’re clearing tables, we look for tables that don’t have anyone at them, but do have dishes. If there are dishes on an occupied table, we assume that they are your drinks and sandwiches, and we’ll wait until you leave to clear them. If you do choose to sit at an uncleared table, don’t give us sarcastic looks if we do realise that the empty trays aren’t yours. It was your choice to sit at an uncleared table. I have never known there to be literally no empty tables. I have known customers who bring the empty trays up to the till, because “there was nowhere to sit” even though I can see at least two empty tables within sight of the one they chose to sit at. These are the people who annoy me.

6. Please don’t complain to us about the queue. We’re sorry, but there’s nothing we can do about it. We’re honestly going as fast as we can. As I said above, we’re limited by the drinks that can be made simultaneously. I know it’s not your fault that the person two in front of you has five different drinks to be made and three sandwiches to toast, but it’s not our fault either. As with the tables, you chose to wait in this line. There are other options. We appreciate your waiting and your custom, we’re sorry about the length of the queue (from 8:00 am or earlier until almost 7 pm, sometimes with a momentary lull around 3:30), but we honestly are working as fast as we can.

I am a nerd. This is not news.

2011-01-08T00:28:00.001+01:00

So I have been embracing my nerdiness recently. I’m in a Doctor Who phase, for one thing. This is mostly sparked by Christmas and the Christmas special being so well-done. Also, when my boyfriend and I went Christmas shopping, we saw a figurine collection of all eleven doctors, with their signature accessories (usually the sonic screwdriver), and it was actually well-done. Not all eleven doctors looked like their portrayer, but let’s say 8 out of 11 did. Which is pretty good for plastic. I’ve also been listening to the audio plays from Big Finish. I also blame Christmas for this: they’re kind of perfect for long flights when there’s nothing good being shown on the actual airline TVs. I read a lot of the time as well, of course, but would turn on the Big Finish when I just wanted to phase out. Also, Tor.com did “The Twelve Days of the Doctor” over the Christmas season, which just fed the obsession.

The other day, while I was home alone (since my actual Full-Time Job didn’t start until today), I extended the obsession. I watched all of the regeneration scenes, for each of the Doctors. And after each regeneration scene, I watched the first scene or two (or three) with the new Doctor – enough to see him reintroduce himself to the companion(s) and the situation and establish himself as a personality. The only one I didn’t watch this time was Four into Five, because I’ve seen Castrovalva a few times, and the last time was just a couple of months ago. Oh, and I limited myself to the “classic” Doctors, because obviously I’ve seen the new regenerations and establishing scenes more than a few times. They’ve kind of imprinted on me.

It was really interesting to see how the actors, writers, and directors established the departure of each Doctor and the arrival of each new Doctor. There were a few similarities, but mostly they were individual. One into Two is, sadly, lost as a video. There are reconstructions (which I watched) but the quality was so bad, and my understanding of the plot was so bad, that I didn’t really get a lot of it. I would wish, if it were any use, that there were more Troughton bits available – I think I would like him as a Doctor. I’ll watch what I can, when I can, though.

Two into Three was the forced regeneration. It was interesting that the Time Lords gave the Doctor a choice of face for this one – even though Pertwee wasn’t one of the choices. I wonder, had Pertwee been cast at this point? Or did they just want to surprise people at the start of the next episode? Pertwee started off as you would expect a disgraced, exiled, regenerated Time Lord to act: secretive, angry, upset and disappointed. It didn’t help that the Brigadier didn’t recognize him, and then he almost got kidnapped and had to escape in a wheelchair with masking tape over his mouth. There was a touch of “crazy man” about him, but not as much as the next one.

Three into Four was tricky. Sarah Jane had no idea what to expect, the Brigadier was surprised but quickly resigned himself to it, and a helper from, I assume, previous episodes had to come and speed things along a bit. And then Tom Baker appeared and “crazy man” absolutely took over. He is so….I’m not sure what the right word is. It’s not manic, because he’s more laid back than that. It’s not “crazy” with the negative connotations. But he’s kind of amnesiac at first, and then he absolutely refuses anyone’s assistance, advice, or presence. He disappears into the Tardis, apparently about to abandon Sarah Jane and the Brigadier, when it’s like something clicks back into place. That smile appears, his eyes go happily wide instead of the alert and wary wide they’ve been so far, and he snaps into place. In one episode – not even one episode – you know exactly what his Doctor is going to be like, and the key word is going to be “unpredictable”. He won’t hesitate to tie someone up in a closet by his bootlaces; he also won’t hear of anyone putting themselves in danger for him. You’ll think he’s placid until he explodes into a fury of activity.

Four into Five is different again. As he regenerates, Four sees visions of all of his previous enemies and companions. He’s also been warned by the Watcher (a white-wrapped figure, theoretically the Doctor’s potential next self, I think?) that a regeneration is coming, so it’s not as violent a “death” as some of the others (Three was attacked by mutant spiders, if I recall…). And then Five comes along and takes over the role. There’s a touch of amnesia, as is becoming usual, but it’s more that Five doesn’t know who Five is rather than he doesn’t know who the Doctor is. He progresses through each of his previous personalities – and is spot-on in doing so – before establishing himself. It’s a nice touch of continuity in a show that is notoriously – and necessarily – bad with continuity.

And it couldn’t be more different than Five into Six. The regeneration itself is fairly standard – it helped that both Peter Davison and Colin Baker had blond hair – but the establishing scenes make a very definite statement: this is not the same Doctor. After watching that bit, I can absolutely see why Colin Baker had trouble in the role. I can absolutely see why many fans didn’t like him, and why the ratings dropped so precipitously. He comes in to this established and loved series and says, paraphrasing only slightly, “I am not the Doctor that you have known and loved. I reject everything that has come before me, and if you don’t like it, too bad.” He dismisses Peri’s affection for the Doctor, he literally rejects every costume that his predecessors wore and chooses something (a garish coat-of-many-colours) that they themselves would have rejected.

I don’t see this as even mostly Colin Baker’s fault. He’s been wonderful in the audio dramas. His Doctor, when given a chance, is not really that different from the other Doctors – he’s just less gentle on first acquaintance. But first acquaintance is all that some people will give you – and when you reject and abandon the aspects that drew them to you in the first place, they won’t stick around to find out what you’re really like. And, like I say, this isn’t Colin Baker’s fault. He didn’t write the lines – he just delivered them. And I would imagine that he was given some input on how to deliver them. It can’t have been entirely his idea to make the first appearance of the Doctor so inherently unlikable.

With all that, and the behind-the-scenes BBC drama, it’s no wonder that Colin Baker, the public face of the Doctor, was fired – or that he refused to film a regeneration scene. So Six to Seven is a bit different again. The regeneration happens fairly quickly – I don’t even know how much lead-up to it there was in the previous episode – and then Seven is thrown straight into the new situation. No amnesia, no character-establishing scenes where he’s picking out a costume or looking at his new face. He wakes up, he’s face to face with the Rani, and he’s just there, dealing with it, the end.

I’ll stop there for now. There’s still the movie and New Who to get through, plus reactions to the Christmas special and excitement about the new season, and the audio plays, and I’ve read a couple of the novelizations (and got one for Christmas, yay)… plus there’s the additional geekery of getting into World of Warcraft for the first time (hey, it gives me contact time with the boy) and Eternal Sonata and a couple of anime shows….

Yet more whining

2010-11-16T20:19:00.000+01:00

I don’t understand what I am doing wrong. I don’t understand what is wrong with me that I can’t actually get jobs that I interview for. I am an intelligent person who presents herself well – or at least I try to – but for some reason they don’t want me. This is the second job this fall that I have interviewed for that has seemed perfect for me, and I haven’t gotten it. I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong!

Am I applying for the wrong jobs? Am I saying something wrong in the interview? Is it the American accent? What do I need to do differently?

I need a job. For financial reasons, I just need a job. For mental health reasons, I want a job that I can care about, but that doesn’t drain me to the point of tears every day (teaching). I want a job that I can throw myself into, that I can talk about passionately at parties. But at the very least, I want a job that doesn’t drain me to the point of tears every day. Apparently that is too much to ask for.

Annoyance and Entertainment

2010-07-08T00:32:00.001+02:00

The most annoying thing about having my leg in a cast? (Other than, you know, the fact that my leg is in a cast?) Is wearing only one shoe. My poor left shoes are scattered and lonely around the house, forlorn and abandoned for at least another week and a half.

The other annoying thing? My walking boot for the cast is higher than any of my flats, but not high enough to justify any of my heels, even if I would wear only one heeled shoe (which I wouldn’t). I can deal with the bright blue clashing with all my clothes, because hey, I’m in a cast. But I have a harder time with the asymmetry of it. One shoe. One side that is lower than the other, even if it’s not by that much. It’s incredibly annoying.

I can deal with the questions. “Oh, no, what’d you do?” (stress fractures. Two of them. In my foot. I don’t know how, exactly, other than “walking”.) “How’s your leg?” (My foot, actually, and fine, other than frustrating because I’m in a cast.) “Are you okay doing that?” (Yes. I have a broken foot. I’m not a quadriplegic. Nothing against quadriplegics. And after more than a week – nearly two, now – in a cast, I’ve kind of gotten the hang of most things.)

If I do have to be in a cast, even for only a few weeks, I’m going to have fun with it, though. Because life should be all about keeping me entertained. My life should, at least. So I bought the multi-pack of coloured Sharpies and have been decorating my cast. This is good for a variety of reasons, not least because it distracts me from how yellow the thing is getting. I make – I mean, let – other people draw on it, too. My boyfriend drew an amazing desert island/rainbow scene that used every single one of the colours. I was very impressed. I think I’m going to start carrying the Sharpies around with me so that other people can draw on it too. It really should be more than just me and my boyfriend.

I’m really hoping that it comes off when it’s time to go back to the doctor, though. I have plans that do not involve being forced to limp and keeping my ankle immobile. Entertaining as I try to make it, I’m still in a cast. And it’s still annoying.

Race for Life

2010-06-09T08:28:00.000+02:00

There are a lot of differences between the UK’s cancer research fundraiser Race for Life, and the US cancer research fundraiser Relay for Life. Relay for Life is based on time, and you’re generally sponsored a certain amount for a time or a distance walked. Race for Life is a 5K (although some places have 10K events as well), and most of my sponsorship came straight in, not contingent on anything else. Relay for Life is also open to anyone – my family usually does it as a team event, and trade off shifts to walk. Race for Life is a women-only fundraiser, which I find both awesome and disturbingly sexist.

I participated in Race for Life in Nottingham this last weekend. My fundraising page is still up for a few weeks, if you want to donate. (www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/rachelandkendra) My friend Rachel pulled in a couple of her other friends, and together we were Team Pink.

Race for Life is a very pink thing. Pink has become the traditional colour for breast cancer support, and because it’s women-only, there was an awful lot of pink around. We helped contribute to the pink atmosphere by wearing pink wigs, pink headbands with either pink mouse ears or pink devil horns on them, pink shirts, pink leg warmers, pink face paint, pink grease paint on our arms, and pink spray-on glitter (which you couldn’t really see, but we knew it was there). It was so very pink, and we weren’t even the most pink team on the track.

I’d had big plans, when Rachel and I signed up in January, to actually get into the habit of running and be able to run the 5K without stopping. That didn’t happen. I started training pretty well – more consistently when it started getting warmer – but my ankles started hurting, and I lost my ankle supports, so I stopped until I could get more. Then, the week before the race, I did something to my foot – possibly exacerbated by the too-small shoes I accidentally wore one day – that made it very painful to walk. It’s something that’s happened before, and I still don’t know what it is other than “painful”. So when the race came around, I didn’t run more than about five minutes at a stretch (although, for whatever reason, running was actually easier on my foot than walking. But still – ouch). My goal is to be able to run 5K by next year’s race, whether I participate or not. This does, of course, depend on my feet not being stupid and injury-prone, however.

Our team name got a slight alteration when the day of the race came. It started raining Saturday night, with proper thunder and lightning and everything else that makes me slightly homesick for the Midwest. Sunday morning, it poured (and there were a few cracks of lightning). It rained, and rained, and rained. The sheets of water that came up from the bus I was on to get to the race went almost as high as the bus itself. The sweatshirt I was wearing was drenched by the time I got to the place where we were getting ready. My socks stayed wet until I got home several hours later and peeled them off. Given all the rain, we renamed ourselves Team Pink Drowned Rats.

But the rain stopped about an hour before the race started, and by the time we were actually going, it was bright, warm, and incredibly humid. I think by the end our faces were just as pink as our wigs.

It was interesting that we were one of the tamer groups racing. There were quite a lot of wigs – pink or otherwise. There were babies in pushchairs, puppies wearing pink boas and Race for Life signs, printed T-shirts with pictures and race numbers on them. But the best were the costumes. Three rabbits with “Durawell” batteries, and, the best thing, SpongeBob and Patrick. I was warm enough in jogging trousers and a T-shirt; I can’t even imagine how hot it got inside a giant SpongeBob.

About 5000 people participated, they said. Plenty of people ran, even more walked. There was an aerobic warmup at the beginning, including a performance by the Nivea Boys (Nivea is a sponsor of Race for Life) where they sang and danced to one of the cheesiest songs that was out when I lived in England as an undergrad. (DON’T STOP MOVING!!!! WOOOO S CLUB 7!!!!) I laughed hysterically for about thirty seconds, and then started dancing along. Because you have to, when you hear a song that brings up those kinds of memories.

At the end, everyone got a medal and a carrier bag with stuff – a breakfast bar, a bottle of water, some Nivea products, and entries to various contests. I haven’t really looked through it in depth yet. After the race, I went home with my wonderful housemates who’d come to support me, and we all just collapsed on the couch and watched movies for the rest of the day. But the reason that they were also exhausted is another story…..

I’m glad I participated in Race for Life. I wish things had gone differently: I wish I hadn’t hurt my foot, I wish I could have run the whole 5K, I wish I had been more active (and potentially annoying) about raising money. But every little bit counts, and I’m glad to be the European branch of my family’s cancer research fundraising.

Hoarding Minutiae

2010-05-28T15:41:00.000+02:00

I am a packrat. A hoarder. A collector. Whatever you want to call it. I make excuses like “it’s genetic” (my grandparents all kept everything “in case it was useful someday”, almost to the point of pathology), “but what if I will want it eventually” and “nostalgia” and in the meantime, books and papers and …..well, mostly books pile up around me.

And right now my mom and my uncles are sorting through my grandfather’s house, and his lifetime of hoarding and saving everything that came through the door. It’s a daunting task, and a stressful one, and a sad one. How do you balance the longing to acknowledge the past with the desire to lead a simple(ish) life yourself, and the space limitations of modern middle-class living?

It’s made even more difficult, emotionally, by the fact that my family has not just a lengthy history, but a strong sense of history. We are all well aware that sometimes the most innocuous-looking things can turn out to be important. I just read a biography of a Tudor woman where most of the information for her life comes from household accounts. But, really, once the account books aren’t of any use for tax purposes or something similar, who wants to keep them around? But they are historically one of the best sources we have for daily life one or two or five hundred years ago.

We want to keep the important things, but how do we know what the important things are? What’s important now may not be important in one or two or five hundred years. And while there is an argument to be made about the cultural knowledge that comes from shifting priorities, I also can’t help but wish that more minutiae survived.

This is one reason that I’m so excited that the Library of Congress has the entire public Twitter archive now. Past Tweets may not be of huge significance (although some are, either culturally or personally), but the collection of cultural minutiae has the potential to be fascinating not only for current sociologists, linguists, and anthropologists, but for future historians as well. I just wish it were so easy to save and store the physical collections of minutiae as well.

(Apparently I really like the word "minutiae"...)

Ponderings

2010-05-09T21:42:00.001+02:00

I just started reading Bess of Hardwick by Mary S. Lovell. It’s been on my TBR list for literally years, and last year I picked up a copy at Oxfam, and now I’m finally getting to it.

One problem I have, as a confirmed book addict, is that everything I read makes me want to read more. Reading Blink, which I finished this afternoon, made me want to read The Tipping Point and other sociological/psychological things. But Bess is insidious. Even after just reading the introduction, I want to read a ton of stuff.

None of it’s really related to the Tudors, though – they’re a little bit out of my period. No, what the introduction to Bess did is make me want to get back to my own research: music in Middle English literature. I have over 200 articles and many, many poems saved on their own hard drive, just waiting for my attention. And they’re always at the back of my mind, but what the introduction to Bess has done is bring them to the front.

Blink aided and abetted this as well, with all its talk of experts being able to hone their snap judgment ability. I found myself wanting to be an expert in something – and what am I an expert in? Middle English poetry and its connection to music. I also had lunch today with a PhD-student friend of mine, and that helped the motivation as well.

I have been telling myself that I will keep collecting and reading articles and poems (thank goodness for TEAMS) so that when I am financially able to do a PhD, I won’t be completely out of the loop. Maybe it’s time that I make a dedicated study plan and actually do it.

Epic films, part one

2010-05-08T16:32:00.002+02:00

Over Easter, I had a lot of time on my hands and, like I said in a previous entry, I was in the mood for long-form entertainment. So I fulfilled some Easter traditions, and gave in to some cravings, and watched some epic films.

Gone with the Wind:

This had been on my mind for ages, probably close to a year off and on. And when mental_floss reminded me of the Carol Burnett “Went with the Wind,” and posted some of the screen tests for Gone with the Wind, I decided to watch the whole thing.

I had forgotten how incredibly good that movie is. Yeah, it’s incredibly long, but it doesn’t drag. The story keeps moving, from pretty nearly the first scene all the way through to the end. So much happens, but it’s not overwhelming with anything either. It’s incredibly well-paced.

And it’s incredibly well-acted, too. Hattie McDaniels, of course, won Best Supporting Actress (her acceptance speech was another clip on mental_floss, and it made me tear up). But Vivian Leigh and Clark Gable are nearly perfect. Rhett is not a horrible person: he’s mercenary and he admits it. But Scarlett …. is. She’s mercenary, and knows it, but does her absolute best to make it appear otherwise. She’s a horrible person, but you can’t help but sympathize with her. You love her and, even while you want her to get her comeuppance somehow, you still want her to succeed.

I had expected to find the movie more dated. It is so often seen as a love song and an elegy to the Old South. There are definitely elements of racism. And it certainly wouldn’t be made today. But I felt, while watching it this time, that the “oh, woe are we” part of it was found more in the screen narration (someone pleeeeease tell me the actual term for this? The written narration that comes up on the screen, like the dialogue in silent movies) rather than in the story or the acting. Scarlett was a belle of the Old South, no question, and she milked that for all that it was worth. And there are certainly characters who moan the loss of the Old South way of life. But both Scarlett and Melanie do their absolute best, everything they can, to move on from that way of life and to adapt to the new order and the new lifestyle that they must. Scarlett does it by becoming a businesswoman and a fantastic manager of Tara. Melanie does it through emotional support, and by refusing to give in to fear and despair the way that Scarlett’s family does. Two very different women, but both adapting in their own way.

I also found myself much more frustrated with Ashley than I remember being before. He explicitly tells Scarlett that if it weren’t for Melanie, he’d marry her, that he loves her. Is it really any wonder that she can’t fully move on from that? If Ashley had been harsh at the beginning, and been honest with Scarlett about his true feelings, it could have been a much different story.

I love the ending, too. It’s complete, but also full of hope for things to come. I like to think that Scarlett finds a way to get Rhett back, and makes Tara a successful plantation again. I can’t quite imagine the exact way that she does it, but I fully believe that she will.

The Ten Commandments:

This is an Easter tradition in the US, and it’s been a few years since I’ve seen it. This, unlike Gone with the Wind, was dated. The acting was good, but the presentation was incredibly dated. There was even a speech at the beginning about … I don’t remember, something about standing up to government and following rules and whatever else. I didn’t really pay attention.

The acting was so incredibly stylized. It’s not bad, of course, but it’s very stylized. There were a few points where I couldn’t help laughing, because by modern standards, it’s so ridiculous. The plagues were skimmed over – not even montaged! River to blood, immediately followed by death of the first-born.

I also, as a feminist, was a bit disturbed by the implication that “God hardening pharaoh’s heart” was done by a jealous woman. A beautiful, well-acted jealous woman, but still a jealous woman. It struck me as sexist in a way that it hasn’t before. (of course, it’s been at least ten years since I’d watched the whole thing. Probably more like fifteen.)

But Charlton Heston is fantastic. So once I’d watched The Ten Commandments, I had to watch something else of his.

Ben Hur:

What can I say about Ben-Hur? It, like Gone with the Wind, is a nearly perfect film. It’s got good pacing, good acting, everything. There’s a reason that it won a record number of Oscars. It actually wouldn’t be unthinkable that this could be made today.

*sigh*

As you can tell, I’m kind of running out of steam. I’ll have to write about my absolute love for Peter O’Toole (Lawrence of Arabia, The Lion in Winter, sparked by Casanova) some other time. (And maybe by then I’ll have watched Becket.) (And, also, hopefully it won’t take me a month to get to it.)

Election thoughts

2010-05-06T20:19:00.002+02:00

It’s Election Day in the UK. It’s a tense election here, and people are really looking forward to the end of the campaigning. To which I say, “You have no idea of how easy you have it.”

I kind of like the UK system of elections. I don’t mean the bizarre constituencies or the first-past-the-post thing (although I think it makes some sense with a more than two-party election) or the whole “voting for a party and not a candidate” idea. No, I like that you don’t officially know when an election is until a month or so before the election. I like that elections must be no more than five years apart, but can be less if needed. I like that the UK politicians aren’t in a nearly-constant state of outright campaigning. I understand the benefits of knowing that there will be an election for this post on this day in this year (aka the US system), but I have to say that I really like that the UK, in general, lets politicians do their jobs without the pressure of spending half their time trying to keep their job. I like that there aren’t political posters plastering the streets for more than a month.

It will be interesting to see what happens in this election. It’s always slightly more interesting when you don’t have a huge emotional investment in the outcome; you can see a little bit more clearly. Because I hold fairly liberal political views on most things, I would like to see Labour and the Liberals do well. But when it comes right down to it, I don’t have a real investment in this election, because I can’t vote here.

I saw a headline yesterday – and, to be fair, I didn’t read the article – that said that Gordon Brown claimed the debates had clouded the campaign. There’s a lesson in that for everyone, I think: Just because something doesn’t go your way doesn’t mean that it is essentially bad. The actual voters I know who watched the debates appreciated them. Just because Gordon Brown didn’t do well at them doesn’t mean that they have been bad for the process. If you can’t hold up your manifesto and maintain your position at a debate (for which you have had quite a lot of preparation time, theoretically), how do you expect to be able to run a country? It’s an attitude that I think is more prevalent in the US. Frequently, if an election doesn’t go a party’s way, they expend a lot of money, time, and energy on trying to discredit that election. Both sides do this. It’s a very bipartisan thing, this sense of entitlement. But, as in a quotation from The West Wing: In a democracy, sometimes the other guy wins. Also: You lost, deal with it.

(And maybe try a little harder next time.)

Restarting, take 29348

2010-04-15T22:44:00.001+02:00

I am lying on my bed, in my pajamas, watching the darkening grey sky that is either a result of the Icelandic volcano or just normal England spring, and it’s 8:30 pm. Why am I in my pajamas at 8:30 pm, you might ask? Well, because this week I started an internship. It’s supposed to be only four days a week, but since this is my first week, I’ve gone in every day – to make myself known, to let myself get to know the project and the people.

It’s a four month internship, so I’ll be there until the end of July. Four months of sitting in an open-plan office, making databases and sending email. I honestly could not be more thrilled. I said, after last fall, that I needed a quiet office job, and that is what I have right now.

Plus, the database I’m currently making is of research case studies from every school in the university. I get to read representative research from every field. How could I not love this? I said in an email to my supervisor today that I keep getting distracted from building the database by actually reading the case studies. I keep finding out about research centres that are based here that I had no idea even existed. Like the Centre for Evidence-Based Dermatology, which is actually in the same building as I am.

It’s amazing how hope and energy come back when you have something external to do. I’ve picked up some writing from a “content mill” (where you get paid by pageviews, for the most part), plus this internship, and I’m starting to feel like a productive member of society again. And even though I’ve been fairly tired when I’ve gotten home this week, it’s been the kind of tired that makes me yawn, not the kind of tired that makes me unable to do anything but stare mindlessly at the computer. (Instead, I stare mindfully at the computer. Or something.)

The tiredness also may have something to do with the commute – I’ve walked both ways every day. There is a bus combination that could do it, but honestly with the waiting and the changing it would probably take about as long. And it’s been mostly nice outside. Like I said at the top, the greyness of today is either due to typical English spring or the Iceland volcano that’s pushing an ash plume across the British Isles and northern Europe today. Tuesday afternoon was drizzly, and I probably should have taken the bus, but every other day has been fine or sunny. It takes me just under an hour to get to the campus where I’m working. Home again takes a little bit longer if I stop at the store for some food (even though I really should be eating what I have in the house, by the time I am coming home I am so hungry that I can’t focus on “what do I want to make tonight”). As the weeks go on, I’m sure that I’ll get used to the hours and the walk and the lack of snacking (or manage to snack more) and I’ll be fine. I’m developing some calluses on my feet already from the shoes I’ve been wearing.

I really am excited about the project I’m interning on. It’s sort of a University-wide practice for the research assessment that’s coming up in a couple of years – the guidelines and requirements have changed, and no one really knows what to expect, so it’s probably best that we figure it out before the real thing comes. It manages to satisfy my mild organizational obsession with the database creation and the file-naming, it lets me be in thrall to academia and research (even if it’s not my research) for a little while longer, it lets me work with adults who know what they’re doing, and work on things that I kind of know how to do, and am getting better at every day (even little things like “go to Marie and ask her to do this thing” – that’s something I’m getting better at!)

I’m already not looking forward to (late) August, after this job is over and after my mom goes home. I know that this summer is going to be fantastic, and I won’t want it to end.

Media Roundup, Part 1

2010-04-11T16:22:00.003+02:00

I have been in a "long-form" video mood lately. Actually, I've been in a long-form everything mood: instead of single tracks, I've been listening to whole albums (Ocean Eyes, by Owl City, mostly, although I also finished the Ring last night) and instead of random TV episodes, I've been watching movies or whole series. (There is one tiny exception to this, which is Doctor Who, which is possibly self-explanatory.)

It started with Casualty 1900s, which I wrote about before and have watched all of about five more times since my birthday. But even I can't watch a series incessantly. I needed a break, something new and stimulating. But I was still in a "historical" mood, so bring on Foyle's War, which my best friend had been recommending for ages.

Foyle's War, if you don't know, is a British TV series set in WW2 Hastings. Each episode is about an hour and a half long (so two hours when it aired on ITV, a commercial network). Detective Chief Superintendent Foyle is a WW1 veteran who (eventually) sees his role in the war effort to be keeping down crime on the homefront - murder doesn't stop being murder just because there's a war on.

Each episode is a discrete story; the story arcs come from the war itself and the main characters. Foyle's sergeant lost a leg in the Norway campaign; Foyle's son is in the RAF; they're in Hastings, on the coastline, so fear of invasion is a running theme for a while. Each episode is incredibly grounded in the real events: Dunkirk, the American presence, the Blitz, the Normandy invasion, etc. It's so well-researched; in addition to being a compelling procedural, it gives such a vivid picture of life on the coast and the homefront during the war. I learned about things that I'd never known existed (like Exercise Tiger) and got a sense for things that I couldn't possibly experience. And I can't say enough good things about the actors. I fell in love with them all. (However, as a warning: the murder in the first episode is the most vivid and quite horrific.)

Next on the list was Life on Mars, which keeps on with the historical police drama theme. It's so different from Foyle's War, though: in Life on Mars, the main character is in a car accident in 2006 and wakes up in 1973. Is he mad? in a coma-induced hallucination? or actually a time-traveller? It's never made 100% clear, although the last episode leans greatly toward the coma-induced hallucination with a touch of near-death time-travelling.

This is another series where the actors and the characters totally make the series. The stories themselves aren't anything too special and unique; it's the characters, especially John Simm as Sam Tyler, that make them shine. The final episode in particular was stunning. I had tears in my eyes at the end. It was heartbreakingly sad and inevitably right at the same time.

Next on the list was the BBC miniseries of Casanova. David Tennant and Peter O'Toole. *sigh* It was incredibly funny. I don't know why I didn't expect it to be funny, given that it was written by Russell T. Davies... There were some absolute laugh-out-loud moments. David Tennant overcomes many different levels of bad hair and just leaps off the screen. I may be biased here, but he was just fantastic. And Peter O'Toole as the aged Casanova exuded faded sexuality - he's always been wonderful and I'm so glad he's still acting. I completely believed the love between Casanova and Henriette (even though it's probably not historically accurate....and why isn't Laura Fraser better known?) and now I want to read Casanova's memoirs. Just skimming the Wikipedia article made me realize that his romantic reputation is only a small part of who he was. (Well, not small. That enduring legend couldn't be founded on anything .... small.)

The last series I want to mention is Lost in Austen. It was quite cute, and I enjoyed some of the liberties they took with Pride and Prejudice (especially Wickham. I unashamedly loved Wickham in this version. They made him believably redeemable). It did fall into the Darcy trap but not for long, and it was quite amusing to watch Amanda panic and try to "fix" everything. Causes and consequences were kind of hand-waved away, but it's a charming enough series.

Next time: films.

Run, run, as fast as you can

2010-03-26T15:16:00.001+01:00

Race for Life Training: Day 1

Time to race: 2 months, 11 days

I started training today for the Race for Life that I’m running in just under two and a half months now. I remembered two things:

1. I do actually like running.

2. I suck at running.

(Race for Life is basically Relay for Life, but it’s a set distance. The one I’m doing is a 5K. I’m running with a friend of mine. I’ll put up a link to the fundraising page once we’ve tweaked it just a little bit.)

Getting in better shape has been a goal of mine for years, but I am lazy. I end up with this weird mental block about when I can do things and then inertia takes over and I just sit on my bed and watch videos and check Google Reader and check facebook and check my email and check Google Reader and check facebook….. Race for Life is my motivation. I know that in two and a half months, I have promised to run a 5K. Therefore, I have no choice.

It was great today. A really comfortable temperature for being outside – better than our house, at least. And it seems like I went at the perfect time, since now it’s getting dark and cloudy. I went twice around the lake at the park, jogging about a third of it. I probably could have done more, but I didn’t want to feel like collapsing on the way home. I met lots of cute dogs, too. I miss having a pet (I am a cat person but have no problems with dogs) so I always enjoy seeing the ones on walks, and feel kind of bad when their owner tries to pull them away.

And, even though I suck at running – like I said, I only jogged about a third of my distance today – I do enjoy it. I enjoy the endorphins. I enjoy the sense of accomplishment. I have just been brainwashed by a lot of different people to believe that I’m not athletic, that I am incompetent at physical activity. I had a great PE teacher in elementary school. Fourth grade on was a totally different story. This is an opportunity for me to rewrite that programming. I’m not the best athlete. I still can’t throw or catch and have a fear of spherical objects flying at my head. But I can run. I will run.

Cravings

2010-03-22T17:14:00.002+01:00

I am a firm believer in the idea that you should give in to your cravings. Within reason, of course. I'm not a hedonist. But cravings are one way that your body tells you what you need. If you're craving fish and chips, it's probably because you need whatever nutrients and starches are in fish and chips, and you are perfectly justified in paying the 1.99 for a Sainsbury's ready meal even though you've told yourself that you won't buy any more food until you eat what you have in the house.

Reading cravings work the same way. They tell you what your mind and soul needs. And if you try to force a book on your mind that doesn't fit those needs, it can go very badly.

For example, I have 25+ books on my shelves that I haven't read and want to. I started reading one a few days ago. it's by a writer whom I like (at least, I liked his first book). But I can't get into it. It doesn't hold my attention. It doesn't fit my cravings. There's nothing wrong with the writing. It's just not what I'm looking for right now.

And then I went to the newly refurbished local library (which has beautiful new self-service machines) and came out with three books that I will probably finish in the next couple of days: one that I read about on a blog just recently, and two by an author that I've had a craving to reread for ages. I'm already further in one of the books I checked out four hours ago than I am in the book that I've been reading for four days. I also had a craving to sit in a coffee shop - or at least an aversion to sitting at home - so I did that too, and wrote a letter, a poem, and a journal entry as well as reading several chapters.

Give in to the cravings. Your spirit will thank you.

Look! I have friends! And other miscellany

2010-03-18T19:19:00.002+01:00

Three days in a row, including tomorrow, I will spend at least a few hours a day with friends. As in, leave my house and deliberately go somewhere to spend time with people I don’t live with. I’m always a little bit amazed when this happens. I forget, sometimes, that I have friends who want to and can spend time with me.

Yesterday I had lunch with a flatmate from last year, who just got a PhD place here. So yay! She’s coming back to town! It’s very exciting! Especially since she’s the one flatmate from last year that I’ve kept in consistent touch with. And it’s inspired me to at least think about getting back to my own research stuff. I started reading Pearl last night. It’s slow going, but Middle English always is.

Today I was sitting on my bed, slowly getting ready for the day (not unusual), in my bathrobe and towel-turban, when there was a knock on my door and a friend called “BREAKFAST!” So I got dressed and he treated me to breakfast. Then he accompanied me to my initial counseling session, and after that was over, we went to Nottingham Contemporary for the Star City (art and propaganda surrounding the Soviet space program) exhibit.

And while we were doing that, I got a text from another friend, inviting me for coffee before she leaves next week. But I was, of course, unavailable, so I suggested tomorrow instead (we’re meeting for lunch). I’m going to miss her sooooo much when she goes.

I really like Nottingham Contemporary as a gallery. As a building, it’s growing on me although I still think it looks out of place. But as a gallery, it’s lovely. The current exhibit (their second), as I said, focuses on the Soviet space program. It’s named Star City, after the cosmonaut quarters outside of Moscow. It’s primarily modern art, although there are some prints of propaganda posters. It’s also a multimedia exhibit, with a few video and audio things complementing the visual art. The first two galleries also had a sort of electrical theme to them. There was really only one piece that stood out to both me and my friend as “good”* - a sort-of abstract representation of a womb with a red fetus and a black fetus (twins). The red one had a small picture of Castro and the black one had a small picture of Kennedy. I can’t remember the full title, but “We are twins” was a part of it. There was also a giant spacesuit – able to be walked through – representing Tereshkova. One of the things that the Soviet space program did so much better than the US space program was diversity, especially inclusion of women.

*We both agreed that we don’t really “get” modern art in many cases. I was reminded of that Murphy Brown episode, as I almost always am while at contemporary art galleries.

For my birthday, my awesome housemates got me the DVD set of Casualty 1900s, which I had been wanting for a while. And I am obsessed, and can’t stop watching it. There are only 10 episodes at this point, and no word yet on whether there will be another series (season), but I love every single one. It’s so well-produced, well-written, well-acted, and above all, historically accurate. Historical fiction of the highest quality, with a touch of the soaps thrown in. It’s made me ever so interested in medical history, as well as the personal histories of the characters. (Like the lead romantic couple, Dr Culpin and Nurse Bennett, who did get married in real life, eventually.) It’s also helped me clarify my “modern” history/literature interest, which is absolutely Edwardian. Give me 1901-1919 and I’m happy. Much past that, and you get into officially modernist territory, which I really don’t like as much. Even my true literary love, Forster, is more appealing to me in the early works (Room with a View was 1906, Howards End 1910). I knew this before, of course, but this has helped me actually formulate it.

Entering my 30th year

2010-03-13T19:23:00.000+01:00

364 days to get my “before I’m 30” list done. And instead of doing anything productive on the list, I’m lying on the couch, ill, and watching DVDs. It’s really not that different from what I do during the day, except that I’m slightly feverish and coughing, and therefore allowing myself not to feel guilty about not working on my books and stories. I’m also allowing myself to stay inside all day – normally I force myself outside at least once a day. I did answer the door earlier, so that counts as my fresh air for the day. It’s really too bad, because it was beautiful and warm today. But I am staying in bed until I am well, or at least better.

Overall, it was a pretty good birthday. Apart from the being ill thing, of course. I got lots of birthday wishes on facebook. Some were expected, some were unexpected. All were welcome. I had nice long conversations with some people and watched The Princess Bride with my housemates, who’d never seen it.

The best part about my birthday was that I hadn’t really missed out on any celebrations. My housemates and I all have birthdays within about six weeks of each other, and this year our combined ages add up to 100. So last weekend we had a joint birthday party for the four of us. The theme was 100 Years Under the Sea, because of our birthdays and the Dolphin Paradise. Of course, being a party that my housemate planned, it was a costume/fancy dress party. I just wore a pretty dress and called myself a water nymph. Among the others were a mermaid (housemate), the Titanic (housemate), a scuba diver (friend, won prize for best costume), a mob informer (friend), a sailor (friend), and a disguised merman (friend, won prize for best excuse). It was a great party. Some people got very drunk (not me, I don’t drink to excess anymore if I can avoid it), and I stayed up until half past five talking to one of my housemates. (This is one of the reasons that I am sick.)

Looking back on the last year, it’s been very eventful. I got an MA, I had a fairly active social life, I moved house (from the dorms to an actual house), I had a minor breakdown and actually sought help for it (and got help for it, also unusual), I went back to the States for whirlwind events (my sister’s M.Ed. and my grandfather’s funeral), I won a short story contest, and I continued my almost decade-long quarter-life crisis. I still don’t know what I want to be “when I grow up”, at least not what I want to do to make a living. I still want to write, I still do write, but I need something to keep paying the bills, and teaching is on hold until I get myself mentally stable again.

And I have 364 days to finish my list.

Feminism and the Olympics

2010-02-28T15:59:00.000+01:00

I don’t necessarily consider myself a rabid feminist, most of the time. I am a feminist, of course – I think that women and men should have the same opportunities and that gender should not be a barrier to anything except childbirth. But I am not particularly hard-core about it. I’ll point out sexism when I see it but I don’t make speeches, I don’t preach. I’m not a feminist that thinks that the only way to get a sort of balance is to spend the next few generations promoting women at the expense of men. I don’t even think that most of the things that other people point out as sexism is necessarily sexism.

And then I watched the Olympics, and the rabid feminism side of me came out. It started, a little bit, at the beginning of the Games, when I became aware that female ski jumpers had applied for admission to the Games, and the IOC had denied them because, apparently, women don’t jump far enough to make it interesting. And I thought, hmm. That’s kind of odd and unfair. But I didn’t really think anything more about it, except when articles would mention it, because the Games had started so there really wasn’t anything to be done about it for this year anyway.

And then my switch was tripped by something that a commentator said after the women’s gold medal hockey match. As they were handing out the medals, this commentator was naming each player and praising them. For one of the Canadian players who’d scored a goal, she said, “That was worthy of a men’s hockey game.” And that’s when I started to see red.

It’s one of those comments that sounds like a compliment, and was probably intended to be a compliment, but it basically says that women’s hockey is not as good as men’s hockey; that women aren’t athletes of the same caliber as men; that women are only valued in sport as they relate to men. It’s a figurative pat on the head for women’s hockey: oh, isn’t that cute, how the girls think they can play the same games as the boys.

And I’m sure that it wasn’t meant in a negative way, but that almost makes it worse. This is what people mean when they talk about societal sexism. The women of the Canadian and US hockey teams deserve credit in their own right for participating, for playing well, and for winning the medals that they did. They should not be compared to the men; it should certainly not be even implied that they are less capable than the men.

Quite a lot of the men’s hockey players, on a number of national teams, are professional hockey players. The women aren’t. The women are mostly college players, early twenties. The women are amateur athletes (and that gets into my issues with professional athletes in the Olympics in general, which is another rant). The women have just as much right, if not more, to be at the Olympics and to be credited wholly with their success, not to have it degraded in any way.

Hawthorn and Cauliflower

2010-02-10T21:51:00.003+01:00

The unluckiest day to get married is a Saturday in May, at least according to English superstition. My best friend and I discovered this last night as we were browsing Oxfam’s online shop¹ for wedding dresses.

It’s such a stereotypically girl thing to do – and neither of us is dating anyone² so it’s really more of an academic exercise than anything else. But some of these dresses were actually really amazing. Some of them were the trendy strapless kind, of course, which are lovely but not for me³, but I think I found my hypothetical wedding dress.⁴ Some of the dresses are not so amazing. There was one in particular that was just horrifyingly bad. It overemphasized the hips and butt area, and didn’t look like it would fit an actual woman. My eyes, they burned. But some of the dresses were great, and in the fictional world where I get married and have a wedding⁵, I am at least looking at Oxfam first.⁶

Not all the dresses were white, either. There was a silver one and a gold one and one with a tartan train. It got us thinking about the traditions and superstitions around weddings. Most people know “something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue” but did you know that Saturday used to be considered unlucky for weddings? Wednesday was the best day to get married. And May used to be an unlucky month. July and August weren’t bad, but November and December would bring you the most happiness. There are also superstitions about the dress colour and what day you buy the ring. And of course there are the traditions within the ceremony itself: the bridesmaids’ role as decoys, leaving the bridal outfit unfinished until the morning of the wedding, the cake, the confetti, shoes on the back of the car.

But my favourite by far is the medieval Breton tradition around the proposal. This just fascinates me. A suitor would leave a hawthorn branch outside his beloved’s door on May Day. If she accepted, she would leave it there. If she rejected him, she would replace it with a cauliflower. This brings all sorts of questions to my mind. What if the girl was away for the day? What if there was more than one marriageable daughter in the house? What if a girl had more than one suitor? What if someone interfered and stole the hawthorn branch, or the cauliflower? What does a boy do if he wants to propose on a different date? On the surface it seems like such a simple procedure, but I am afraid that it would be more trouble than it’s worth. But as long as they don’t get married on a May Saturday, I’m sure everything would work out.

¹Did you know that Oxfam sells wedding dresses through its online shop? Did you know that Oxfam has an online shop? They do. I volunteer there.

²She only seems to attract creepy guys, and I only seem to help guys figure out that they want someone else.

³I’d be too worried about it falling down, no matter how tightly it was taped and bound.

⁴My views on marriage and weddings are firm, although not immutable, and very similar to my views on children: great and wonderful and special….when they’re other people’s.

⁵That order is deliberate.

⁶I think I'm done with the footnotes now.

I tried to do the jumping-footnotes thing, but it didn't work....I'll learn html better and then come back and fix them. Sorry for making you all scroll up and down.

Quick sports thoughts

2010-02-08T04:28:00.002+01:00

This is totally unorganized and possibly incoherent, since it's 3:30 am. I may write more later. I may not. But for now.....

That was one of the best, most competitive Super Bowls that I’ve ever seen. I am so, so, so, so glad that the Saints won. I said on Twitter in the first quarter: “You know how I said I would be okay if the Colts won? Apparently I lied.”

The final score does not reflect the game. It does reflect the fourth quarter. That was an amazing interception. When the two-minute warning started, I thought for a little while that Peyton Manning would be able to pull it off, especially after the Saints penalty. All it would have taken would have been a quick touchdown, an onside kick recovered by the Colts, and one long Manning completion, and it would have been different. But the Saints defense stepped up and stopped them.

I also said to various people that it’s too bad that the coach can’t be the MVP. Drew Brees deserves it, no question, but the unusual play-calling was such a factor in the win: the onside kick to start the second half (seriously, who does that?) and the challenge on the 2-point conversion (which I’m very glad did not end up being the game-winning play, because it would have sparked off the whole challenge/replay debate AGAIN) are the two most obvious examples, but through the whole thing it was a very tight and well-called game.

I love The Who, so I liked the halftime show. It felt a bit incomplete, though – although maybe that was just because I knew it was only half the Who. Townshend is still awesome, and seemed to windmill every time he could. Daltrey may not be quite as perfect as he was a few decades ago, but can still bring it. Now I want to play Rock Band…..

Obviously I didn’t see any of the commercials. Apparently I didn’t miss much. Interesting (and kind of sad) that one of the best-played Super Bowl games was one of the worst in terms of the advertising.

Bring on the Olympics! Once again I am in the UK when the Winter Olympics are in North America. I anticipate a looooot of curling airtime, and a lot of late nights trying to catch figure skating and skiing.

Desert Island Discs

2010-02-07T20:36:00.002+01:00

My best friend and I did the “Desert Island Discs” game the other day. We created a shortlist of 10 and a finalist list of 5 for the music, movies, and books categories, with the added rule (stolen from the radio Desert Island Discs program) that the Bible and Shakespeare are already on the island. These are the books, DVDs, and albums that (at this point) we would want with us forever.

It was really difficult, and actually a little surprising. I’m a big fan of doing things like this every so often, to see how your tastes have changed over time – and sometimes how they haven’t, even if you think they have. Some of my favourites – most-played songs, most-watched films, books that I love – did not make the list. If they were songs, then the whole album wasn’t worth it; books were emotional in perhaps the wrong way (Hardy, I’m looking at you), films I’d watched so many times that even looking at them makes the whole thing play in my head.

It’s also quite challenging. Do you pick your “comfort” items? Things that you’ve been meaning to get to but haven’t had the time? A combination of the two? Is length a consideration? (For example, if it comes down to a choice between two books by your favourite author, do you pick the longer one?) Do series count as separate items, or one item total? What about “collected works” or anthologies or single-volume sets?

It was challenging, but here’s my final list. I say final, but really it’s just final as of last week when we did this. Lists like this are so dependent on mood and state of mind that it’s entirely possible that my list will change again tomorrow.

Books:

Finalists – A Room with a View (E.M. Forster), Bet Me (Jennifer Crusie), An Equal Music (Vikram Seth), Persuasion (Jane Austen), The Canterbury Tales (Geoffrey Chaucer)

Runners-Up – Rilla of Ingleside (L.M. Montgomery), The Robin Hood Handbook, Bellwether (Connie Willis), The Blue Castle (L.M. Montgomery), War and Peace (Leo Tolstoy)

Comments – I went with the comfort items on this list, for the most part. A Room with a View is my favourite book ever, and every time I read it I find something new in it. Bet Me is also one of my comfort books; I find it nearly perfect. An Equal Music is one of the best books I’ve ever read that shows what it’s like to be a musician. Persuasion is my favourite Jane Austen, even beating Pride and Prejudice, in part because of the letter at the end which is one of the most romantic letters in all of fiction. The Canterbury Tales makes the list for two reasons: I couldn’t go without something in Middle English, and I’ve never actually read the whole thing. So, in a way, it’s both a comfort book and a challenge book.

I was torn between The Canterbury Tales and The Robin Hood Handbook – Robin is my historical fictional boyfriend, after all – but ultimately decided that Chaucer had more variety. The Montgomery books are also wonderful, and comfort books for me, but not quite as meaty as the finalists. Bellwether is my favourite Connie Willis book, and there to satisfy the sci-fi/specfic side of me. And War and Peace is on the list purely for length – I liked it a lot when I read it and it would keep me entertained for quite a while. But it doesn’t come up to the personal emotion of the finalists.

Films:

Finalists – Singin’ in the Rain, Bend It Like Beckham, The Empire Strikes Back, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Pride and Prejudice

Runners-up – North and South, Raiders of the Lost Ark, The Lion in Winter, Ratatouille, Beauty and the Beast

Comments – This is a list that changes almost every minute. It’s like picking your favourite child. It was actually harder to narrow this list down than it was for the books! But the first three are my all-time favourite films, than I can, have, and will watch over and over and over again, sometimes in the same day. Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade is the “funny one” of the Indy movies, plus it features Sean Connery. And it doesn’t matter which of the (more recent) Pride and Prejudices it is. I adore both Colin Firth and Matthew Macfadyen.

Any of the runners-up could easily make the list on any given day, depending on mood and how recently I’ve seen or been reminded of that particular movie. And there are many more that could make the shortlist, again depending on day, mood, and proximity.

Music:

Finalists – Romeo and Juliet (Prokofiev), Ninth Symphony (Beethoven), Wicked, Carmen (Bizet), Revolver (The Beatles)

Runners –up – Amahl and the Night Visitors (Menotti), Abbey Road (The Beatles), Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (The Beatles), Led Zeppelin IV, Joshua Tree (U2)

Comments – This is where I surprised myself. I thought I was moving away from classical music and more towards pop/rock/alt stuff. But it turns out, when picking the albums to go with me onto a fictional desert island for the rest of my life, I go back to my roots. Romeo and Juliet is my favourite of the Prokofiev ballets, or really orchestral music in general. Beethoven’s 9^th is, without a doubt, the most perfect creation of musical structure, themes, instrumentation, and just everything that has ever been performed ever. Carmen is my favourite opera. Wicked is currently my singalong musical, although depending on mood it could easily be another one; I do need something in my range to sing along with, though. And Revolver is my current favourite Beatles album.

I really debated between the three Beatles albums that I had on the shortlist. All three of them are amazing, and are the three that I listen to all the way through, without skipping. Sgt. Pepper is even my stated all-time favourite Beatles album. But for some reason in my subconscious, possibly because it has one of my favourite tracks, Revolver was the one that I chose to come with me. Led Zeppelin IV is partially on the list for my rock interests, but as it turned out it didn’t hold a candle to the others. And Amahl is wonderful, but very occasion-specific. I sometimes listen to it when it’s not Christmas time, but I listen to Carmen all year long.

As previously stated, these lists are only valid for the day and time that we did them; they are subject to change based on mood and experience. But it’s an interesting exercise nonetheless. Have you ever done the Desert Island Discs game?

Football thoughts

2010-02-01T23:15:00.002+01:00

The Pro Bowl was last night, and I listened to it as I fell asleep. Here's a question: is there anyone who takes the Pro Bowl seriously? Most of the players weren't, and the announcers certainly weren't. Here's the next question: do we need to?

There's been a lot of talk this year (....at least, from the two Sports Illustrated writers I follow, and from NFL.com) about the relevance of the Pro Bowl and the perception of the Pro Bowl, etc., etc. A lot of players withdrew because of either the Super Bowl or injury. Players were still being named to the squads in the week leading up to the Pro Bowl. Is the Pro Bowl still important? Still necessary?

I don't follow any other professional sports league as avidly as I follow the NFL, so I don't know what reaction their All-Star games get. I know that MLB's All-Star game comes in the middle of the season, but I don't know anything about the NBA or NHL's All-Star games. I'm assuming they each have one. (Perhaps someone who does follow these sports can help me compare?)

Because that's all that the Pro Bowl is: an All-Star game. And it doesn't need to have this great import or significance. It's the best players of the season (for a certain level of "best" this year, admittedly), playing the game that they love to play, in a game that has no significance other than bragging rights. That's the point. The emotional investment, for players and for fans, isn't in winning or losing: it's just in the game.

And you could tell that, at least from the Westwood One announcers last night. They were just a bunch of guys sitting around, talking about football, and oh, yeah, there was a game going on too and wow did you see that play? I don't think they used those exact words, but pretty close. They were guys who liked football and each other. That was why they were there, and that came through over the airwaves.

(I suppose they're not airwaves if it's digital and online and stuff, is it? I'll stop obsessing over pedantry now.)

Last night's Pro Bowl was definitely an offensive battle: the defense was almost non-existent. And that's also okay: you'd hate either to have or cause a potential career-ending injury in the Pro Bowl (or a pre-season game: the same emotional attitudes apply). And, again, it's just a game for the enjoyment of the game. Not that I don't enjoy good defense, but highlight reels are made for long runs and beautiful spiral passes, with the occasional interception and kick or punt return thrown in. (I did hear that there was an interesting lateral play? I think one of the SI writers said something about Benny Hill....?)

I don't know how to "fix" the perception of the Pro Bowl; I don't know if it's better or worse to have it before the Super Bowl or in Miami instead of Honolulu. But I do know that it doesn't need all the hand-wringing that I've seen over the last few weeks. Maybe it's not the Pro Bowl's problem - maybe our expectations need to be adjusted instead.

Moooooooooooooooom, I'm booooooooooored.......

2010-01-29T00:22:00.001+01:00

There was an article in the New York Times about boredom recently. It started with the fact that book reviews rarely use the word “boring”, even if the book in question is, meandered through the history of boredom and contemporary culture’s attitude toward boredom, and concludes with boredom in literature (specifically David Foster Wallace’s new book).

Boredom is something that I’ve thought about quite a lot recently, like within the last year or so. For me, at least, boredom is not a case of having nothing to do – it’s a case of low motivation and not wanting to do what you do have to do, or not being able to decide what to do (a big problem for me right now). Having nothing to do is boring, but you can justifiably fill the time with mindless entertainment or something. For me, boredom has a mild frustration element – of wanting to have nothing to do, of not being able to focus, of not having the panic of deadlines pushing me to finish things.

It’s lack of interest, mostly. Lack of interest in the things on my to-do list. Lack of interest in what’s going on in the world, in my life. When it comes to boring books or movies, lack of interest in what’s going on in the story. It’s not necessarily something inherent in the book or movie, although it might be. What is profoundly uninteresting to me might be fascinating to someone else, and vice versa.

The article brings up some good points about boredom – how it was created by the rise of the middle class, leisure time, and individualism born out of the Industrial Revolution. People pre-Industrial Revolution might have been bored, but not quite in the same way that people post-Industrial Revolution were. The argument, sort of, is that it took the rise of leisure time for people to realize that boredom was a possibility, that you were responsible for filling your own time and that you could enjoy what you did.

One of the references in the article is to a recent study that shows the neurological patterns of a “resting mind” – they analyzed the patterns of people in an fMRI machine who were told to “just relax” and empty their minds. For a lot of people, that is boring – but for me, at least for a while, it would be relaxing. I wouldn’t have to worry that I’m supposed to be doing something else, that I’m missing out on something. Of course, after a while, forced inactivity does become boring – but again, it’s because you can’t stop thinking of the things that you should or could be doing instead.

(I’m not sure if this post is turning out the way that I wanted it to…..I may have to revisit it at some point and rewrite….)

Are you a megalosaurus?

2010-01-28T18:16:00.003+01:00

Today has been a book day for me. I am slowly making my way through my saved items on Google Reader, and this morning I read through some of the book items. Most of them were book reviews (there's a biography of Chopin that looks interesting; the new Elizabeth Kostova got panned).

The topic of interest over the last few months, and especially yesterday, has been e-readers. Yesterday, as everyone who has turned on a computer probably knows, Apple revealed the iPad. And most of the immediate online reaction has been to the name. (What hasn't been to the name has been "So....it's a bigger iPhone. That's not a phone.") Personally, I'm a little disappointed that Apple didn't go with iTablet or iSlate - I especially liked iSlate, and I think that iPad is too similar to iPod to really distinguish it effectively. But, really, couldn't they have foreseen the jokes? The jokes that I've seen are mostly feminine-product-related (the iPad will come in Mini, Regular, and Maxi, etc.) with a few Star Trek (iPadd, Paramount should sue) ones thrown in. But, like I said to a friend online, in a few weeks the name will be normal and worth nothing more than a wry smile (if that). So if you're going to mock it, do it now.

I also sought out a new second-hand bookstore today; I'd heard about it on Tuesday when I was volunteering at Oxfam. It's just up the street from the town square, so about a fifteen-minute walk at most from my house. It also seems to be staffed by volunteers, so no chance for a job, but any bookstore is a good thing in my mind (although sad: no income means an absolute moratorium on book buying, and I need to get through the books that I already own and haven't read anyway). I met a sweet but loopy woman who declared her love for the Sweet Valley High books, and who also gave me job advice. It took me about ten minutes to extract myself from the conversation.

There's also a couple of book articles from the last few days that I think I want to either keep around or talk more about; I'll try to work those up tonight and post them on the other blog sometime soon.

Randomness:

I found a flowchart online detailing whether you should eat food that has been dropped on the floor. It is very comprehensive - including questions such as "Are you a megalosaurus?"

A friend also posted a pun - I don't think it's originally his but it's very funny.

I sent off my final assessment for my proofreading course; now I need to start on the copy-editing part of it. I've also been doing some stuff (volunteer, of course. I need to get into a field that pays me) on the proofreading site for Project Gutenberg. I'm still a beginner on that site, but it's pretty addicting. I have actually been limiting my time on it because I'm supposed to be looking for jobs and things....

My sleeping patterns are totally screwed up. It's almost like I'm jetlagged, except I haven't been out of the UK since October, and haven't even been out of Nottingham since New Year's. I'm hoping that I can stay awake all day today (no napping!) and fall asleep at and stay asleep for a reasonable time. It seems to be going pretty well so far.

I should probably get back to working on something. Focus on one of my writing projects and get at least a few hundred words written.

Jasper Fforde is awesome, and random encounters

2010-01-21T16:18:00.002+01:00

Last night I went to hear Jasper Fforde speak about his new book, Shades of Grey. It was fantastic. I'd also let one of my friends know; we didn't exactly go together, but there was still an empty seat next to me when he arrived, so we hung out during and after.

The book's been on sale this week at Waterstone's - half-price - and the ticket price for the event could go toward the book, so I only paid six quid on the night for the book. Which I was very excited about, because (a) I don't have an income right now, and (b) I doubt that it'll even be that cheap in a year or so when it comes out in paperback.

Jasper Fforde was very personable and funny. He talked about his path to becoming a writer, about the book (including a few passages), and answered questions. Some paraphrased quotations:

"After stealing - sorry, paying homage - to other people's ideas, I decided to write my own story with my own characters."

"Writing is a series of challenges or dares - a bit like Scottish cuisine."

"Because I'm the author, and I can do whatever I want, I generally do."

"Writing is never finished, only abandoned."

He also mentioned his publication schedule, which is a book every year for at least the next three. He didn't say a lot about the sequel to Shades of Grey, but the next Thursday Next book and especially the next Nursery Crimes Division book (which isn't scheduled until 2013) sound fascinating. The most recent NCD book, The Fourth Bear, also sounds fascinating ("How is the porridge different temperatures when it was poured at the same time?"), and it's the only other one of his that I haven't read yet.

He signed books afterwards. James and I started off in what turned out to be the buying line, but switched to the signing line once we realized. We were chatting when one of the three girls in front of us asked if I was American. I said I was, and asked where they were from. Minnesota, Chicago....are you the Luther group? And they were. We talked the whole rest of the way to the front of the line.

Jasper Fforde in person was very friendly and cheerful, even after almost an hour of signing. I can't wait to read this book (I got to chapter three before the talk started).....and everything else that he ever writes.

My goals

2010-01-17T22:44:00.002+01:00

They're not "New Year's Resolutions," because it's already January 17th. They're not deadlines, because I have a problems sticking to self-imposed deadlines. They're goals. Goals that will hopefully not be too onerous to meet, that are flexible enough to allow for my current schedule and social life (ha), and that should eventually lead to the ever-elusive income. And they are "at least" goals, so I can exceed them if I want to and can.

They are to apply for at least two jobs every day, and to write at least 500 words on something that is not a blog every day. I'm getting better about getting in the habit of writing, and the words are coming more easily, but it's far too easy to blather on for 1100 words about football or something and not make any progress on my long-term plans.

So, those are my goals.

An excursion

2010-01-16T15:52:00.001+01:00

I went on an excursion today. A new art museum opened in November, Nottingham Contemporary, and its first exhibits are closing in a week or so. I’ve been meaning to go since it opened, and decided to take today to do so. It got me out of the house for a little while, and then I could be in town and hit the pound-or-less stores for Dr. Pepper and Pepsi, and go to Waterstone’s which is always a good time and relaxing for me (even though I have put a sort of moratorium on luxury spending which, until I get through all the books that I currently own, includes books. It does not, however, include a ticket to an author event from one of my favourite current writers. On Wednesday. For three pounds.)

Anyway. Nottingham Contemporary. It is, without a doubt, one of the ugliest designed buildings I’ve ever seen. For a long time, when I walked by it, I thought it was the scaffolding hiding the building, something that would come down to reveal the museum when it was done. It is growing on me a little bit, but it suffers in comparison to its neighbours – it’s right next to Pitcher and Piano, an excellent restaurant/cocktail bar in a converted church. It’s one of the most beautiful buildings in the area, and the art museum looks squat and ugly next to it. Close up, one can see the lace patterns on the outside of the museum, a nice nod to Nottingham’s history and the history of that particular neighborhood. However, you can’t see that unless you’re close up – even from across the street you can’t see the detail. And I haven’t even mentioned the Vegas strip/’50s diner style neon sign that points to the thing. It’s kind of unbelievable how badly this museum does not fit in with its surroundings.

But, anyway, I’ve wanted to go there since it opened, and today I took the opportunity. No point in just lying around the house all day, and then wishing I’d gone, right? Of course, I was not the only one who had that idea today. The place was much more crowded than I was expecting. Of course, it’s a rainy Saturday, so I don’t know why I was surprised, but it’s also Nottingham. I’ve never had a problem with crowds when I’ve gone to the museums here before. If anything, I’ve had a problem with undercrowding – when my sister and I went to the Galleries of Justice over Christmas, we were the only people there, and on a performance tour that gets interesting.

The exhibits themselves were pretty good, I thought. I’m not a huge fan of modern art, but this was a lot more representational than a lot of the stuff at, say, the Tate Modern. Two artists are featured currently: David Hockney, a name I’ve actually heard of, and Frances Stark, an American collage artist. Frances Stark’s work was in the first two galleries, one of her earlier work and one of more recent pieces, and David Hockney was in the other two galleries, which featured his work from 1960-1968 which covered his first trip to America.

Frances Stark’s first phase, if that’s the appropriate word to use, is collages made up primarily of words and pictures; the second phase used more images. I preferred the first gallery, quite a bit actually. The words, and the letters of the words, formed essential parts of the collages. Words were repeated almost ad infinitum to form the patterns in some of them, kind of like this:

t t t t t

h h h h h

e e e e e

My favourite of the ones in this gallery was one called “And also another one at the same time”, which used the words “And also another one at the same time, not” to form what looked like the trunks of trees, and then near the top the letters turn into birds. It’s kind of Escher-esque in the way that one thing turns into another – although it’s not quite so deliberate and subtle as Escher. The demarcation between the letters and the birds is quite clear, but there’s still that sense of motion, of transformation. And, as I said, from a distance at least, they look like trees.

The David Hockney galleries were much more crowded than the Frances Stark ones, both in terms of works of art and of people. There wasn’t as much room to move, because there was just so much more there, which meant that even if the number of people was the same, it seemed like more. I think, though, that there really were more people in the David Hockney rooms. I also realized my invisibility power, or whatever it is about me that says, “Please walk right in front of me and stop, especially if I’m trying to read the panels or look at the artwork in detail.” I managed to keep my frustration in check, though, and look at/read everything that I wanted to in the depth that I wanted to.

I have a few more favourites among the David Hockney works than among the Frances Stark works, even though overall I think I am more interested in Frances Stark’s style. Some of the ones I liked were “Great Pyramid at Giza with Broken Head from Thebes” (I want to go to Egypt. Also I have been listening to Doctor Who audio books that feature an Egyptian princess) and the ones that show him experimenting with water: Man Taking Shower in Beverly Hills, Peter Getting Out of Nick’s Pool (light reflecting in water as well as the glass of the sliding doors), and A Bigger Splash (so very active, for a static painting). The one with the coolest story, I thought, was “The First Marriage (A Marriage of Styles I)”: he was at a museum with a friend, and had fallen behind a bit. He saw the friend ahead of him, standing near a statue and looking in the same direction as the statue, and it seemed like the friend and the statue were looking at the same thing, as if they were together. So he painted the idea of it. I thought that one was cool.

The gift shop was a test of my willpower, just like Waterstone’s – there was the usual spread of art and cultural studies books (Derrida and the like), and a few shelves of Nottingham interest (i.e. Byron and Lawrence…they had a couple of Sillitoe books, but not Saturday Night and Sunday Morning which is the one I really want to read first), and quite a good selection of children’s books (Emily Gravett is everywhere around here, and they also had the true story of the Big Bad Wolf, which is hilarious). There was also the typical art museum jewelry and bags and things that look “artistic” – one set that was actually pretty cool was jewelry based around shadow puppets. Maybe at some point, when I have an income, I will splurge.

I am looking forward to seeing what else Nottingham Contemporary puts on. It probably won’t be a place I go all the time, but it will definitely be a place I go back to.

Football talk

2010-01-11T15:44:00.000+01:00

The NFL playoffs started this last weekend. “My” teams – the Vikings and the Saints, since the Steelers didn’t make the playoffs this year – don’t play until this weekend, but I love football and I’m going to miss football when it’s over for the year so I’m trying to saturate myself while I can. One of the best investments I’ve made this last year is the NFL.com Field Pass access – radio coverage for all the games, plus archives for a while.

That being said, WHAT HAPPENED THIS WEEKEND? I slept through most of the Saturday games (stupid time zone…..) but I caught the first half of the Ravens/Patriots game and where were the Patriots? They certainly weren’t in Foxborough. 24 points in the first quarter? REALLY? And then the Packers/Cardinals game – I may have to get the archived coverage of that and find out WHAT HAPPENED at the end there (it was past my bedtime so I missed the ending). Highest-scoring playoff game in history? Overtime? What?

I hope that the Vikings and the Saints both do well next weekend. I don’t care so much about the AFC this year – the Steelers missed the playoffs, and I’m a sort of fan of New England, who lost this weekend, and was hoping for good things from the Bengals, who lost this weekend, and the Colts have been nearly unstoppable so far so I’m not too worried about them. But the Vikings and the Saints both have histories of choking at horribly inconvenient times, and I really want an NFC team in the Super Bowl that I care about.

Online round-up!

2010-01-11T15:30:00.001+01:00

There are a fair number of tabs up on my browser right now. Let’s see what I can get rid of:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/6952220/Why-were-in-the-grip-of-medieval-mania.html

Okay, let’s get one thing clear. Tudor and medieval, as periods, are not the same thing. Don’t conflate them, or the medievalists and Tudor specialists are going to kick your ass. We have studied close combat. I write about music and musicians and romances, and I have studied close combat. There is such a huge difference between the fourteenth century and the sixteenth. When I say I am studying “medieval literature”, no, I don’t mean “like Shakespeare.” They are not even close to the same thing.

Basically, this article…sucks. He seems to think that an interest in anything pre-19^th century is unusual and worth remarking on, even as he says that it’s always been popular, and even as he remarks – twice – that ancient history is just as popular (although he only refers to two writers on ancient history, and one of those two he uses twice). He also only uses two publishing events and the new V&A exhibit that are actually medieval to establish his “mania” and “obsession” with the medieval period (three if you count Wolf Hall, which is Tudor) – and completely ignores the continuing success of the Georgian and Victorian periods in literature.

Skimming this article a couple of days ago, I was annoyed. Reading it more carefully, it just makes me angry.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/comment/columnists/simonheffer/6957419/The-true-great-20th-century-novelists-who-irked-the-Bloomsbury-snobs.html

Am I just in a bad mood? This article annoyed me as well. Of course, he put me off almost instantly by praising Joyce and deriding Lawrence. (Not denying that Lawrence had “carnal obsessions” but HELLO, Joyce was obsessed by the body to the point of nausea. At least I find it nauseating.)

He makes a fair point about the snobbery of Bloomsbury and the focus in schools on the modernist movement to the exclusion of the Bloomsbury enemies (Wells, Bennett, etc.), but is it really fair to denounce Bloomsbury for propping themselves up at the expense of others and then do that exact same thing? There must be a way for Galsworthy et al to regain some measure of respect and popularity without having to put down Bloomsbury and the other modernists first.

http://www.pastemagazine.com/articles/2009/02/demetri-martins-palindrome-poem.html

Palindromes are awesome! I know this is from nearly a year ago, but I just heard about it recently. Also, Demetri Martin is cute and funny.

http://www.scientificamerican.com/podcast/episode.cfm?id=computers-cant-show-you-the-monet-10-01-04

This is just cool, and proof, of sorts, that computers are not going to take over the world any time soon, because there is still a place for emotion and emotional response.

In which I play with books

2010-01-06T17:45:00.001+01:00

Well, my last few posts were depressing and horrible. Or, rather, horribly depressing. Good news! I went to the doctor, I got happy pills, I got my appetite back, and I feel like I can do things again.

Like enter a short story contest.

One of the things I do with my time is play with books. That sounds facetious. I volunteer at a charity shop (Cancer Research UK) and organize their book donations. We try not to have goods on the shop floor for more than a couple of weeks – after that, they get “culled” and go to one of the other shops in town, to get to a new customer base or something like that. So after I sort through the donations, I go through the books on the shelves, pulling the old ones. Then I price and set out new books from the donations.

It’s quite the process, really. I have so much power over these books! I decide whether they are in good enough condition to go out on the shelves (if they’re not, they get recycled in some way), or recent enough. Fiction isn’t a problem, of course, but textbooks and travel books especially – if they’re not from the 21^st century, I toss them. I tossed one today that was a guide to Windows 95. I’m assuming that no one needs a user’s guide to Windows 95 for anything other than nostalgia value. Sometimes I feel bad about some of the travel guides, especially – it can be really interesting to see the differences in tourist advice, or popular areas, or prices over the years. But there’s a point when it’s interesting and a window where it’s too recent to be interesting, too old to be relevant. That window is when I put them in the big white bag.

I have a system of sorts for the storage room, too. Most of the books we get are, of course, fiction. They go on the built in shelves on the outside wall. They’re organized by size rather than anything else, purely for ease of stacking and access. Mass-market paperbacks are on the lowest shelf, just under eye-height, then trade paperbacks (slightly bigger, with slightly harder covers), and then on the top shelf are the large paperbacks – the ones that I’ve seen now as “airport editions” and things like that. Also on the top shelf are some of the non-fiction paperbacks: history, biography, etc. Basically that wall is for anything that you – I – would check out of a library.

Hardcovers are on the other wall, kind of in the same way. Fiction in one area, non-fiction in another. And then we have the reference/specialty books. Diet books, cookbooks (so many cookbooks), gardening books, bird-watching, languages, basically anything that doesn’t fit in with the other categories. They get a shelf of their own, with cookbooks getting a stack on the shelf right by the door. (Seriously. So many cookbooks.)

Kids books are separated into the ones that can go in the 50p bin (picture books, etc.) and the ones that are more for tweens and young adults, which are priced about the same as adult books are. We got a box a couple of months ago that was stacked full to overflowing with teen-girl type books. Some of them are still in the box. I’m shifting them as quickly as I can.

I’m shifting all the books as quickly as I can, really. We have five and a half shelves on the shop floor for books – three of them usually have paperbacks of various sizes, one has hardcover, and one has miscellaneous non-fiction, with a half-shelf near toys for the tween/young adult books. We sell quite a lot of books, and cull quite a lot on a regular basis, but the storage room never seems to diminish.

And some of that is because of days like today. I walked in today and I could not enter the book storage room. We’d gotten so many donations over Christmas (the last time I was in was December 22) that there was literally nowhere else to put the books. It took me at least two hours just to get things sorted, and I was absolutely ruthless about recycling books. If there was any doubt about condition or suitability, into the white recycling bag it went. I then put something like 60 books on the shelves – and one of my fellow volunteers had already done two shelves.

There were three or four boxes full of books today, as well as the mass of bags. I think they were part of an estate sale or something like that. They were nearly all older books, with quite a lot of cookbooks and gardening books and wine-making and things like that. This was one of the times that it was difficult for me to be ruthless when throwing them out (or not), even though I knew I had to be. I kept thinking of my grandparents’ house, which was, and I’m sure is still, crammed to the rafters with books. The collection reflects so much about my grandparents: their interests, hobbies, activities, and so on. I could tell, going through these boxes, what the person who’d had this collection was like in a similar way. I could picture my grandparents’ books going through the same treatment (once the family has pulled out the ones we personally want of course) – sorting through my grandparents’ lives with only minimal consideration for the emotion and history of the books, only looking at how saleable they are. I know it’s necessary, but it’s still difficult.

More of me whining

2009-12-07T00:14:00.000+01:00

I can’t get excited about things. I can’t care about things. I’m calling the doctor this next week. He’ll probably just tell me that it’s “part of the grieving process”, like last time. But I need something to make me care.

Graduation is on Wednesday. My housemates’ parents are coming. I have a couple of people coming, but all along – most of this year – I just haven’t cared that much about graduation. I know my achievements from this year. I checked my transcript today (again) and, yes, my dissertation was the highest mark that I got all year. And I’m graduating with merit. Yay me. But the ceremony itself? It’s for other people. It’s for parents, it’s for families. It’s a ceremony marking the conclusion of a year that most people have spent two or three months moving on from. And I’ve had two. I had my high school graduation and I had my BA graduation. It’s not that I don’t care about the MA – I do, I’m quite proud of it, and I miss the work terribly. And I have people coming to mark the occasion, and I’m excited to see the people that I haven’t seen in weeks who are coming for it (everyone I know, except one, is graduating at the same ceremony). But I don’t actually care about walking across the stage and receiving my certificate. I don’t care about the ceremony.

I do have quite a lot of free time, but I have low energy and low motivation so all the projects that I have on my list never quite get done. And then I feel guilty because, if I want to be a writer, I need to write. But I end up watching old TV shows and rereading books that aren’t very good (and ignoring the books that I haven’t read yet) and writing falls by the wayside. It’s an excuse, but I can’t seem to break out of it. When I do get around to doing something productive, like applying for more jobs or something, it always takes about five times longer than I want it to (because I have no energy and get distracted easily

Maybe I just need this time of apathy, to recharge. I don’t have the money to let it go on too long – and it’s affecting my teaching to the point where I’m REALLY not going to have any money because I’ll no longer have a job, hence the need to go to the doctor – but I need to stop with the self-imposed guilt. The stuff that needs to get done will get done. Eventually the other stuff will, too. But the first step is to get myself mentally healthy again.

Yeah, just more of me whining

2009-12-04T12:26:00.000+01:00

I seem to be at yet another career crossroads. I have been teaching part-time at a school, covering some classes for a teacher who's been ill long-term. I am getting incredibly bored. Some of this has to do with the timetable - it's very sporadic, but just enough that I can't really find another part-time job. Some of it has to do with my general mood - I am incredibly apathetic right now, and it's hard to tell which is causing which. Some of it has to do with the fact that teaching kind of feels like a "been there, done that" - and that worries me. I know I am a good, caring teacher. I'm just no longer sure that I should be.

I have started to take steps to get past it. I still have the employment problem that I don't have a teaching qualification (so, if I stay in teaching, I would either have to stay at private schools or get one, which is the current Plan) but I don't have experience in anything else. I have applied for a couple of internships at my postgraduate university that should help expand my experience and CV. The thing is, though, the school may still need me. It's still very nebulous whether the teacher that I'm covering will be coming back full-time at all, I learned today. I don't want to abandon a school that needs me; I don't want to abandon a job even if it's not ideal when I don't have anything else in the pipeline. But I can't keep going in this limbo - coming in and essentially being at school full-time or nearly full-time when I'm only teaching 1-3 lessons per day [I have been getting to school at 8:30 or so every day, and leaving at 1:30 ish except for days when I need to be there until 4]. If I'm going to stay, I need a more....consolidated timetable. Or a fuller one.

I have to do something to get past this apathy. I have any number of projects bouncing around my head, but I do not have the motivation or energy to work on them, even when I give myself deadlines. I just can't seem to care, and that's not going to help the job search or the productivity at all. I spend my time doing the things that should be done in 'coffee break' times (like, say, blogging. Or checking Google Reader), and not doing the things that I should be taking a break from. And then it's nearly 10 or 11, and because I'm either exhausted or the alarm's going off at 6, I still don't do them. Something needs to change. I need to get my drive back. I need to pull out of this incipient depression (after several days of being relatively okay, I woke up crying again this morning). I need help.

The devil is in the details

2009-12-01T12:42:00.003+01:00

The school where I'm temporarily working is having an inspection this week. Everyone's very worried about it. Sometimes I think I should probably be worried about it too, but I just can't make myself care. For one thing, an inspection is supposed to see how things normally run, so there's not really anything different I can do. For another thing, I don't have any administrative responsibilities that they'll be checking. For a third thing, no matter what the outcome of the inspection, I am not really going to be affected. For a fourth thing, I still have the "I'm new" excuse.

I keep running across tiny little things that I have no experience with. Like yesterday, when I told my class to finish our activity for homework, they told me about "homework timetables" and that they're not supposed to have English homework on Mondays or they'd get overloaded. These are the sorts of things that it is good to know. They are also the sorts of things that, if you are used to the system that uses them, you don't think to mention. They are so automatic to the way you work that it doesn't even occur that it's not done or done differently in other places.

I just know that something is Not Right in my life. I believe very strongly that your body/mind/soul tells you when something's wrong and, while nothing seems Wrong right now, something's Not Right either. I need to do something to get back to where I'm 'supposed' to be - the career path where I feel comfortable - not complacent, but comfortable. At least I've stopped crying in the shower every morning - but that doesn't mean that whatever was bringing it on has been solved, just that my mind/body/soul has shut down from dealing with it. Hence the apathy, I suppose.

One clue to this Not Right-ness was Monday afternoon. I felt fine at school, developed a headache on the way home, was home by 2....and was asleep by 2:15. I woke up sometime after 4:30, still with a headache, and was groggy and headachy the rest of the night. The temperature in our house doesn't help, either - our gas bill was higher than we were expecting and higher than we want, so we're trying to conserve. This, of course, means that we do things like bake more and keep the electricity use high, but whatever. We'll get through it somehow.

I think I'm getting burned out from education. Not from me learning - I still want to do a PhD at some point - but just from being in the education bubble. I am quite bored and apathetic right now about being a teacher. While for some people that may make them stricter, for me it lets my classes kind of run amok, which then doesn't do anything to increase my enthusiasm. I want to do something else for a while: it will help me clarify, one way or another, my desire to be a teacher. I still have the problem of have experience in education but qualifications for other things, but I'm working on that. Back to the soul-destroying job hunt I go, I suppose.

Are you ready for some football?

2009-11-22T21:45:00.002+01:00

I know I mention this frequently in the fall, but on Sundays it’s one of the only things I think about: I miss football. I splurged on myself a few weeks ago and got the season pass for NFL.com’s “Field Pass” – live and archived radio coverage for the rest of the season. It’s totally worth it. I don’t have to rely on questionable streaming sites, and if I miss a game, I can listen to it at any point during the week. (I haven’t, yet, because there haven’t been any ‘can’t-miss’ games that I’ve missed. But I could if I wanted to.)

One of the complaints that people who don’t like American football have is that the play stops so often, usually for commercials and whatnot. It’s an argument that I agree with, but that doesn’t affect my enjoyment of the game. Part of it, for me, is that commercials have become such a part of the ‘football experience’ that I don’t even notice them when I’m watching a game live or listening to, say, B102.7 and Coyote coverage. Field Pass, though, doesn’t usually include the commercials – the Chargers station did a week ago, but most of them don’t. Most of the stations play music, an oddly familiar classical set that I can’t quite place, during the ad breaks. And there are a LOT of ad breaks. I knew there were a lot of ad breaks, but as long as there were ads – as long as there was speech and noise filling the airtime – I didn’t really notice them. When it’s music, especially music that isn’t intuitively football music, it’s really really obvious how much time of a football game is spent not playing football.

Also, dear NFL: can you PLEASE stop scheduling all the games that I want to follow (Pittsburgh, Minnesota, New Orleans, and Indianapolis are the main ones) at the exact same time? You have four game time slots throughout the weekend: early Sunday afternoon, late Sunday afternoon, Sunday night, and Monday night. There is no reason that all of the teams that I follow need to be playing at the exact same time. You are not making this easy for me. I’m not even complaining about the Sunday night and Monday night time slots because I know that my inability to listen live to those games is my own fault for living in this time zone. But seriously. Spread the games out on Sunday. Please. The way things are now, I have four games to keep track of in the early timeslot, and none that I really care about in the late one. Is the overloading of the early timeslot really necessary?

A new job and other stuff

2009-11-19T20:03:00.002+01:00

I find that my life is a lot more productive when I’m more scheduled. Something about having limited time makes me actually use the time I have.

I just started a new job. It’s part-time, it’s temporary (until Christmas), but it’s an income for now. As long as it gets me through until I apply for my next visa, I’m okay. [Note: the visa will not guarantee me a job afterwards, but should make it a little bit easier, plus to get the visa I need a minimum bank balance so that I can prove that I’m not going to be a drain on UK society.]

The job is a teaching job, which also accomplishes the goal of getting experience in a UK school so that I can apply for the GTP (which is an employment-based teacher qualification program). In fact, the head of the department talked to me today about treating this next month as if it were an unofficial GTP. So in addition to teaching classes, I will occasionally observe and be observed (a few times a week, we’re thinking). I am all in favour of this. Anything that makes me a better teacher and gives me a bit of an edge finding another job is a good thing. As an international (non-EU) resident, I face quite a lot of barriers to employment until I get a permanent visa (which will be difficult for me to do without a job).

But anyway, the job. Like I said, it’s part-time, it’s temporary, it’s teaching. It’s a private (independent) school, which is how I’m able to work there actually as a teacher even without qualifications. I’ve taken over some classes for a teacher who’s been ill since August. He’s recovered enough to take back his exam-level classes, but that leaves quite a few classes that he’s not ready for yet. So I’m teaching a class of year 9s and a class of year 10s and I share a class of year 7s. I’m teaching Lord of the Flies to the year 9s and Great Expectations to the year 10s.

It’s been a bit rough. The other teachers are wonderful, and I have no problems with any of them apart from my natural shyness and independence which combined make it difficult for me to offer opinions and ask for help. The fruoghness has come with the kids, especially the older ones. I am the third teacher they’ve had this year, and it’s not even the end of the first term. I am obviously new and unfamiliar with the school’s procedures. And by the end of my first week of working (I started teaching on a Wednesday and the crisis hit last hour on the next Tuesday) they’d pushed me and themselves to a breaking point. Things are better now – they’ve been yelled at, repeatedly, and I have a better idea of what to do and how to handle them – but I’m used to classes who, for the most part, love me, and even if they don’t, they respect my being there and they don’t punch each other out in the middle of my class. (Unless they’re making a YouTube video.) I need to become better at discipline and classroom management with classes that I don’t know, with students that I don’t know, and with systems that I don’t know. If I can’t, I’ll never survive the GTP next year (assuming that I do the GTP next year).

And I do still want to get teacher qualifications – at the very least, it would be nice to have qualifications to match my experience. But I also am still looking for office-type jobs. I can’t help wondering what it would be like to work in an office instead of a school, having set tasks to do and a defined job description that doesn’t necessarily require me to be ‘on’ all day.

And this leads me back to my opening statement. This is a great job, a great school, and may lead to further things next term (details pending). But I’m not busy enough to get things done. There’s always ‘more’ that I could do, of course, but I’m only scheduled to teach a few class hours – or, in this timetable, half-hours – each day. Today, even, I only had one half-hour since my double class was cancelled (the class was doing something else with their form tutor). I was technically done teaching at 9:40 this morning. I stayed, of course, for a quick staff meeting and to at least outline my classes for tomorrow, Monday, and Tuesday – I didn’t go much further for various reasons, including not really having a sense of how much we’ll reasonably get done tomorrow, Monday, and Tuesday, and having no classes until 11:30 tomorrow so I can spend the morning tweaking it, and having a huge block of time Tuesday to do more – and ended up observing a class which, as previously mentioned, is a good thing. The thing is, if I’d had more classes to teach yesterday, I probably would even have gotten more done. Because I wouldn’t have had as much time to ponder what I was going to do, I would have made decisions faster about what to do in my various classes. And probably still gotten the blog posts written and etc. etc. etc. Oh, well. Sigh.

As I was leaving today, I told one of my colleagues that I was done for the day, and she jokingly asked if I wanted to teach her afternoon class instead – I told her that, seriously, if there are days when she’s feeling too overwhelmed by her other stuff and can hand me a lesson plan, I’ll do it. And by the end of the brief conversation, we’d tentatively agreed to team-teach a General Studies unit about the different education systems/experiences in the US and the UK. Yay for more work and more experience!

I really do enjoy all the other teachers in the English department at this school. This school year so far has been incredibly chaotic for them – there’s the teacher I’m covering for who has been ill and is not sure when he’ll be able to come back full time, there’s the head of department who needs leg/hip surgery sometime in the late winter/early spring and has been trying to arrange that as well as take care of the personnel changeover of this fall, there’s the lovely one who had a miscarriage over half-term, there’s the new one who had a minor breakdown last week, there are a couple of part-time people who are wonderful but not in every day….it’s a department in flux but everyone is so nice and so supportive of everyone else.

There’s not a lot else going on in my life. I still miss my ex – one of the hardest things about that terrible Tuesday that I mentioned above was that I wanted to text him and tell him about it, so that he could sympathise and then make me laugh and forget about it – but I couldn’t. Not because I ‘can’t text him’ – because I can, we’re still friends of sorts, I saw him a couple of weeks ago and we’re fine – but because if I had, it would just have been a way for me to try to hang on to the way things were between us and not the way things are, and that’s not healthy.

I have no idea what I’m going to be doing for Christmas. I don’t think I’ll have enough money for a plane ticket to go home, unless one of my parents helps me out, and I don’t know where various family members are going to be for Christmas anyway. Staying here would certainly be easier from both a financial and a bureaucratic perspective. It may be incredibly depressing, though.

NaNoWriMo

2009-11-17T14:46:00.002+01:00

I started to attempt National Novel Writing Month again this year. I've done it in the past, and I've even "won" twice. This year, I'm not going to finish.

I could make excuses like "I just started a new job" (true) "which usually leaves me exhausted" (true) and "I'm trying not to lose my semblance of a social life" (true) "which means, for example, that I only have an hour at home on Tuesdays" (true), all of which are factors in my wordcount of less than 10K right now.

But the main reason that NaNo is not working for me is that I care too much about this story idea. It's one that's been in my head for literally years, and I want it to work, even in a first draft. And right now it's not working. The plot isn't there and the tone is absolutely wrong. And I care too much about the story to want to throw in flying monkeys or black-suited ninjas.

So the way I see it, I have a few choices. I can try to restart this story, locking myself away and trying hard to gget to 50K in...twelve days. I could restart this story and change my goal to either 20 or 25K (...in twelve days). I could switch stories, also resetting the goal.

Or I could quit thinking of it as NaNo, which is a fairly arbitrary thing anyway that in the past has left me mentally and writingly (you'd think I'd know a better adverb for that, wouldn't you? One that actually exists?) drained and uncreative through December, and just try to write something, a few hundred words at least, every day.

I pick the last one.

Happy Remembrance Day

2009-11-11T22:56:00.002+01:00

They shall grow not old, as we who are left grow old
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning
We will remember them

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Last Post

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My all-time favourite poem

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And one of my all-time favourite books

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I was going to write more about today, and memories of today, and try to parse out why I am so fascinated by WWI, but I started a new job last week and even though it's part-time, it's still exhausting (and the last two days have been particularly emotionally draining) and I just need to collapse. I'll put it on my list for 'posts to write soon' but I can't promise that I'll a) remember and b) actually do it. I'll try, though.

My mind is confusing sometimes.

2009-10-26T00:22:00.002+01:00

Oh, man, I miss football. I miss football so much. The Patriots and Bucs played at Wembley today and I so want tickets to next year’s London game and I want a friend to come with me so that I can talk about the game, both during and after. I am disappointed that the Vikings lost, but they kind of gave it away (TWO turnovers returned for touchdowns? Seriously?), it’s not good for teams to go undefeated too long because it creates way too much pressure, and if they had to lose I’m glad it was to the Steelers so that I could see Stefan (and kind of laugh at how upset he seemed that he only got to about the 30 on one return, instead of running it all the way back) because he is awesome. Oh, and speaking of undefeated teams? STEP IT UP SAINTS.

It is still weird for me to think of Brett Favre with the Vikings. He was such an iconic Packers quarterback, and the rivalry between the Packers and the Vikings is so, so, so strong, that it’s so hard to see his playing for the Vikings as much beyond a slap in the face to Green Bay. It shouldn’t bother me this much, but it does. (And next week is the rematch! Yay!) Other player transfers don’t bother me this much. When Terrell Owens left the 49ers, I didn’t care. (Although I don’t care about TO much anyway, except to wish that he’d shut up, go away, and get over himself.) Ricky Williams, one of the highest-profile signings the Saints ever had, is playing for the Dolphins now and currently against the Saints, and this does not bother me at all.

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Today I went to the Robin Hood Pageant. It is essentially a Renaissance Fair that is pretending to be in the 13th century. It was awesome. Re-enactment festivals like this are places where, in order to get any kind of enjoyment out of it, you can’t take it or yourself too seriously. Also, it’s nice to see things marginally connected to the things I’ve studied, and think “Right, maybe all my education and knowledge isn’t TOTALLY useless.”

All the performances were, of course, Robin Hood based. The jousting performances were Robin and the band against the Sheriff and Guy (who did not look like Richard Armitage, but was blond like the guy from the 1980s series and not unattractive). The ‘medieval sports’ for kids purported to be recruitment for Robin’s gang. There was a no-strings puppet show of Robin and the Potter and Robin and the Monk. There was a storyteller, a book-binder, an alchemist, a juggler/fire-eater (who I wasn’t sure about from the description but who turned out to be quite funny). There was also falconry – for performances they use Harris hawks now, and the guy gave some interesting information about how to train birds, and what the different levels of birds were (peasants could fly kestrels, kings could fly goshawks, and everything in between), and the Harris hawks run to flush out the prey and it’s fun(ny) to watch. Wilf, one of the Harris hawks, ate things he wasn’t supposed to eat (such as a bit of a hamburger and chips) and then didn’t catch the ‘rabbit’ that was a demonstration of his hunting abilities. The falconer was kind of worried about him. He (the falconer) also demonstrated a barn owl, which is beautiful with such a big wingspan…..

The jousting was also incredible – it was actual jousting, with horses and blunted lances and a quintain and all. Robin won, of course (the jousting may have been real, but the battles were choreographed, of course), and it was cool to see. I had a bit of a bad moment when the Sheriff was a bit slow (for my taste) getting up afterwards [I …. really don’t like it when they don’t get up] but he did eventually get up and seemed fine.

One of the things that going to this did for me – besides updating my medievalist geek credentials, as if they needed it – was to kind of reassure me that there is a place for me and my interests in the world, even outside of academia. Don’t get me wrong: I still want to do a PhD and do feel like academia/education is the place where I am supposed to be, but it’s nice to know that I am not completely alone in these obsessions, and that there is a place for them, even in an entertainment/niche type venue. (Not that there’s anything wrong with entertainment as a niche. Far from it.)

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Speaking of my medieval geek interests, and entertainment, after writing this the other day, I started a list of medieval poems that I could adapt for television/movie/modern literary versions. I figured that I can’t justifiably complain about them not being there if I’m not willing to at least attempt to do something about it. I’m not going to say ‘it’ll be easy!’ because a) I’m not stupid, b) I’ve never written a screenplay before, but I know how difficult even a bad 30-day novel is, and c) I’m not stupid. But it’s something I think I should try. I watch a lot of TV and movies, and read a lot about the writing process in those media, so I have a basic understanding of how it works. And I know some of these poems almost by heart, so I have more than a basic understanding of the source material to know what can and should be included or not. I think I can do it, or, at least, I think I can try.

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I was going to write a bit about a ‘discussion’ I had with a friend last night about religion that started and ended with him telling me I was going to hell, but almost 1000 words is enough for one night, yes? (If only I could write this much on my fiction! Oh, well….)

2009-10-23T22:25:00.001+02:00

This absolutely disturbs me. I don’t have a problem, per se, with a ranking system based on how many students drop out, since I think that is a relatively reasonable indicator of quality. I don’t have a problem with a ranking system based loosely on student satisfaction surveys, with appropriate caveats for personal bias and whatnot. I don’t even have a problem with a ranking system based on results, although that requires some sort of standardization and runs the risk of ‘teaching to the test’. In general, I don’t have a problem with ranking systems for education – with so much choice, there has to be a way to narrow the field a little bit or people get overwhelmed.

Earning potential should not be a part of these ranking systems. I understand that my attitude is born out of an upper-middle-class, privileged background that allows me to think this way, but education should not merely be a means to money. People should study something that they’re interested in, ideally in a program that provides transferable skills. (And employers should recognize these transferable skills, no matter what it says on a person’s certificate or diploma.) If you aren’t learning about something that you’re interested in, if you don’t work at something you enjoy at some level, then all the money in the world doesn’t matter.

Also, future earnings can’t possibly be a secure, reliable factor. Look at how much the economy has changed in the last couple of years, and the last decade. Plus, a qualification is not a guarantee of a job offer, much less a salary band. Certain courses – the ones that list higher potential earnings – will be flooded with people who have only a minimal interest in the subject, which will overload the job market – which right now is overloaded anyway. I see no good reason that is not purely mercenary to include potential earnings on a ranking system.

This is not to say that potential earnings do not have a place when people are making a choice about what to study. Just that they shouldn’t be used in a ranking system, and especially not one linked to funding of courses or – especially – whether or not a course continues to exist, as is implied in the first paragraph of this article.

Also, quango: Originally: an ostensibly non-governmental organization which in practice carries out work for the government. Now chiefly: an administrative body which has a recognized role within the processes of national government, but which is constituted in a way which affords it some independence from government, even though it may receive state funding or support and senior appointments to it may be made by government ministers. [OED]

Soap Operas

2009-09-22T22:09:00.003+02:00

Guiding Light, the longest running entertainment program in the US, ended last week after 72 years on radio and TV. I find this kind of sad. I understand that the TV industry is just that, an industry, and it’s driven by costs and ratings, but soap operas and Guiding Light in particular seemed like stalwarts, like they’d never end. Even if other soaps failed (Sunset Beach, Loving/The City, etc.), soaps in general would go on, and Guiding Light would always be there.

I used to be a huge soap opera fan. My mom watched Days of Our Lives and Another World when I was very young – to the point where, when SoapNet started showing old episodes of Another World, things were familiar. My own personal fandom started one vacation, probably summer vacation, when I was in middle school with The Young and the Restless. After a year or so of that, I moved on to Days of Our Lives (I am slightly embarrassed to admit that the possession storyline drew me in, although it’s not what kept me) and Another World for the last year or so of its existence. Then I found out that an elementary school classmate of mine was occasionally an extra on Guiding Light, so I watched that in the hopes of glimpsing her. My roommate sophomore year of college taped Passions and would watch it every evening, and it was a small room so I watched too. Then, the year after I graduated from college, when I had nothing to do in the afternoons, I turned on the TV. I don’t remember what got me hooked on them, but somehow I ended up hooked on All My Children and One Life to Live, with General Hospital thrown in by the end of the year, partially because I was too lazy/distracted to change the channel. Thanks to SoapNet, I rewatched early-to-mid-80s Another World and kept up on all of the above. When I got my computer for Slovakia, my second year, and was investigating the wonderful world of free podcasts, I rediscovered Guiding Light and newly discovered As the World Turns, both of which had audio podcasts of their episodes. If I’m in a TV-watching mood in the US, I still will happily turn on SoapNet. Soaps are the television equivalent of Harlequin romance novels (which I also enjoy, probably more than I ‘should’). They’re formulaic, they’re repetitive, they require attention but not a lot of thought to consume, and every once in a while there’s something that stands out as beautiful or genius or true.

The thing about soaps – and fiction in general – is the story. That’s why I watched, anyway. (That and the hot guys.) Humans are a story-telling animal. That’s why even non-fiction books have to have some kind of narrative structure to them and some kind of character to identify with and care about. If they don’t, it’s like reading the dictionary: informative, but not something that (most) people do cover-to-cover or for fun. I watched (or, that year in Slovakia, listened) because of the story, because of the characters. I wanted to know what happened to these people, and I wanted to know how and why it happened. (And if the story didn’t turn out the way I wanted, John and Natalie on OLTL, then I often drifted away if there wasn’t any other story keeping me hooked.)

The other thing that soaps can provide is history. Guiding Light was on the air for 72 years, and one of the reasons that it survived so long is because of its slow transitions through its history. That’s how most of the soaps that are still on survive. They started with a core group of people – usually a family – and introduced new characters in connection with that family, not in isolation. As the new characters became established, then perhaps the original group would fade out, but not until then. This is one of the problems with soaps today. In a desperate attempt to attract new viewers – especially in the summer when teenagers are out of school – producers throw new, usually teenaged characters at the show in a usually-futile attempt to make something stick. If these newcomers have a connection with established characters, it’s tenuous or very limited – in a new group of five ’16-year-old’ characters, one may be the child of a supercouple, usually a child that we haven’t seen for a while who has now undergone SORAS [Soap Opera Rapid Aging Syndrome] and should really only be about 8 years old if we’re going by real time. (This is also one of the reasons that soap opera mothers can steal their daughters’ boyfriends – at a certain point every character over the age of 21 is portrayed as within about fifteen years in age of each other, unless they are in ‘grandparent’ character in which case they’re allowed to have grey hair but not usually a social life except in certain circumstances.) The year that I lived at home and was watching four or five soaps a day, minimum, I stopped watching consistently during the summer because I was so annoyed by the new teenaged characters that I didn’t know and didn’t care about. (I learned how to use the DVR so that I could fast-forward through storylines like that that I didn’t like.) Most viewers want the consistency of the history of the soap - an acknowledgment of characters and storylines past - and shows ignore that history at their peril.

Another thing that I find wonderful about soaps is the sheer volume. Almost every daytime soap in the US right now is an hour-long daily. There are no repeats. There are times during the year when they don’t air – major sporting tournaments, especially tennis in the summer, for example – but there is no ‘hiatus’ like primetime shows get. A primetime season of 22 episodes is just over a month in daytime soaps. The sheer volume of work that goes on with soaps is absolutely incredible.

There’s a good mental_floss article about soaps and the ending of GL (I figured since I commented about a bad mental_floss article a while ago I should link to one that I enjoyed). I particularly like the slightly snarky comments that undercut the actual good work that soaps do to highlight social and global issues.

Goodbye, Guiding Light. I'll miss you.

Sometimes you need to talk about something else.

2009-09-21T00:38:00.002+02:00

Life kind of sucks right now, so I am in avoidance mode so that I am not in constant emotional-wreck mode.

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I was talking online to a friend of mine who is also going through a hard time, and we agreed that one thing that would be helpful when we are going through hard times is to talk about something other than what we are going through. Not ignore the bad things, necessarily, but everyone asks, “How’s it going,” and it’s exhausting to rehash everything over and over, and to dwell on it for too long. So my first message to her today was “I’m here for you if you want to vent/rant/talk about something else entirely.” She appreciated that.

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I have found a way to watch football online. I love football. ‘My’ guys have had a good day, too. By which I mean their names have been mentioned on air. That is exciting for me.

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I finally put up almost all the pictures and things on the walls in my room. It still feels kind of like a dorm room, but I’m sure that once I settle more into the rest of the house, that feeling will ease. I still feel like a student, is part of the problem. Once I get a job of some kind I hope that feeling will fade a little bit.

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Because of the depression/grieving that I’m going through right now, I have all these ideas for ‘things I should do’ (edit the novel, brush up on Latin, write a PhD proposal, etc.) but don’t have the energy or motivation to actually do them. This, of course, adds to my stress and depression. I’m working on it. Job-searching is soul-crushing and I find myself repeatedly refreshing facebook and twitter for about three hours, and then getting annoyed with myself for wasting time. I really should give myself a break. Something will turn up. It always does, somehow.

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Depression/grieving is also exhausting. Even when I haven’t been crying, my eyes feel like I have. Being around other people helps, most of the time, but I can’t count on that for the however many hours I’m awake during the day. I’ve got people-oriented things I can do this next week, at least.

The perfect end to a perfect day

2009-09-17T01:15:00.005+02:00

I am not having a good day. I mean, my problems are nothing in the grand scheme of things - many people have it much worse, and even many people I know have it much worse - and they're not even problems as much as 'things-I'm-having-trouble-dealing-with-right-now', but still. Not a good day. I missed out on a job opportunity (I heard about the job on Saturday and probably should have gone in Sunday or Monday, but didn’t, and today it was gone and I got looked at like a crazy person for even asking about it), I’m stressed about various things (including an unexpected casual communication from an ex-love-of-my-life on Monday – not necessarily stressful in itself, but definitely mentally and emotionally confusing), and my grandfather is 91 years old and in imminently failing health. I actually had to lock myself in a bathroom stall at the mall and cry because it was either that or cry in the middle of Market Square. And I don’t cry in public anymore, if I can possibly avoid it. [Actually, I don’t cry anymore if I can possibly avoid it. The last two months have been anomalous.] It’s been full-out tears today, too, not just the deep, shuddering, no-tears sobs that plagued me during the dissertation and concurrent romantic woes.

And then, on Skype, I get this:

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Hello [my name],

I have been in search of someone with this last name "[MY NAME]", so when I saw your name I was pushed to contact you and see how best we can assist each other. I am Mr. A. Opeyemi, a Banker here in GHANA. I believe it is the wish of God for me to come across you on skype now. I am having an important business discussion I wish to share with you which I believe will interest you because, it is in connection with your last name and you are going to benefit from it.

One Late Shafi C. [MY NAME], a citizen of your country had a fixed deposit with my bank in 2004 for 36 calendar months, valued at US$12,500,000.00 (Twelve Million, Five Hundred Thousand US Dollars) the due date for this deposit contract was the 16th of January 2007. Sadly Shafi was among the death victims in the May 26 2006 Earthquake disaster in Jawa, Indonesia that killed over 5,000 people. He was in Indonesia on a business trip and that was how he met his end. My bank management is yet to know about his death, I knew about it because he was my friend and I am his account officer. Shafi did not mention any Next of Kin/ Heir when the account was opened, and he Shafi was not married and no children. Last week my Bank Management requested that I should give instructions on what to do about his funds, if to renew the contract. I know this will happen and that is why I have been looking for a means to handle the situation, because if my Bank Directors happens to know that Shafi is dead and do not have any Heir, they will take the funds for their personal use, so I don't want such to happen. That was why when I saw your last name I was happy and I am now seeking your co-operation to present you as Next of Kin/ Heir to the account, since you have the same last name with him and my bank head quarters will release the account to you.

There is no risk involved; the transaction will be executed under a legitimate arrangement that will protect you and I from any breach of law. It is better that we claim the money, than allowing the Bank Directors to take it, they are rich already. I am not a greedy person, so I am suggesting we share the funds equal, 50/50% to both parties, my share will assist me to start my own company which has been my dream.

Let me know your mind on this and please do treat this information as TOP SECRET and DO NOT respond to this on skype for same security reason. I have more to write you about the details once I receive your urgent response strictly through my personal Email address: [redacted] We can as well discuss this on phone: [redacted]

Have a nice day and God bless.

Anticipating your communication.

Seriously? Dude, if I had more mental energy right now, I’d try to do something like this.* But I don’t, so I won’t. Instead, I’ll just mock them and their obvious find-and-replace/mail-merge style, their TOP SECRET warning, their poor English (although it’s better than most), and the idea that the man died two and half years ago and it’s only now occurring to this guy to steal the money.

Also, I’m changing my Skype privacy settings – which I probably should have done ages ago seeing as I do get any number of random flirtations on Skype (note: starting a conversation with me, a stranger, with a beer stein icon is going to get you ignored and/or blocked immediately. My computer is not a bar, you don’t know me or you wouldn’t start a conversation in that way, go away and leave me alone) but I have had a couple of family members and friends randomly run across me on Skype in the past and I wanted to leave myself open for that. But no more. *shudder*

*even though that makes me miss the friend who introduced me to the site, and remember the circumstances in which he did so, which then makes me start crying again…

Eighteen months to go.....

2009-09-12T20:16:00.000+02:00

The dissertation has been turned in; I’m not completely happy with it, to the point where I almost want to apply for a PhD just to have the external motivation to make it better, but it has been turned in and there’s nothing I can do now but wait and hope that I haven’t disappointed my supervisor and second reader.

Today (September 12) marks eighteen months until my thirtieth birthday. In some notebook somewhere I have a list of ‘things I want to have accomplished before I turn 30’. I should find that list. I know one of the things on it is ‘make a decision about a PhD’….so I give myself eighteen months to decide. Another thing I know was on the list was ‘get the novel into publishable form’. So I have eighteen months to get that done, too. I can’t remember what else was on there, other than ‘be or have been in a long-term relationship’ which is not something I can control in the same way…

What else should be on my list?

Another whiny dithering about the end of days

2009-09-06T16:26:00.001+02:00

My facebook status right now reads, “Kendra must stop thinking about what could-have-been and focus on what was, and is.” This status is applicable to two different parts of my life right now: my love life (already discussed, at length, and I’m trying not to think about it too much) and my dissertation/academic life.

I realize, when I can think about it objectively, that yes, studying English literature is what makes me happiest, and that if I’d studied math or chemistry instead I would be having these same doubts, but about literature. And one of the reasons that I know this is my dissertation.

I have been reading about this topic (the role of musicians in Middle English poetry) continually since the end of May. I have been reading about it in general since the end of March, when I was writing my proposal, but it has been my main academic focus since the end of May. And I’m not tired of it yet.

There are still so many things that I want to research more and write more about: the symbolism of the harp in Sir Orfeo, the Christian explanations of the various texts, the background and specifics of Middle English romance and minstrel society, the responsibilities of good kings, Richard the Lionheart (and Richard Coeur de Lion), oral transmission and how that did or did not affect (or effect) the stories, and so on. I am not ready to be done with this dissertation. Not because I don’t think it’s ready (although it’s not, even though it has to be), but because I feel like there’s so much more I can do with the topic.

Is that a sign that I really should be pursuing a PhD? That I should start saving now, and work on writing and revising a research proposal? I would just like someone to tell me what to do, and where to start to do it. I clearly don’t have a sense in my own mind. The possibilities are too open for me: I could do anything (within reason) and therefore I can’t do anything.

The end of days

2009-09-04T18:52:00.002+02:00

You can tell that the end of my MA degree is approaching, and that I am starting to get nervous about what's next in my life by the growing appeal that the following things have for me:

1. Getting a PhD [It's not that expensive! It's just three more years! So....120,000 more dollars that I would be in debt!].
2. Moving back to the US [I wouldn't have to deal with visa stuff! It would be fine! I could find a job at a company that would send me back overseas and deal with the visas for me!]
3. Moving back to the US to get a PhD [see above....and then I could get a lecturing position over here somewhere!]
4. Joining a dating service to find a Brit who will marry me and keep me in the country forever.

Seriously. None of these things are valid options for me at this point. They're just ways of putting off what I really want to do.

Once I figure out what that is, of course. Other than 'stay in the UK forever'.

I have a Plan. I found out some things earlier today that make me question the feasibility of the Plan, but at the moment, it is a three-year Plan. Year One (this year): work doing whatever I can, to get UK school time, work experience, savings, and build up some income history, just in case. Year Two: Graduate Teacher Program (this is what is causing me some worry....I need to send out some emails next week). Year Three: NQT year. Or other work if necessary. Once the three-year Plan is complete, my sister will have enough experience (hopefully) that she will also be able to move to the UK and get a job, as will my best friend and her best friend. Then the four of us move to London and all get jobs there.

If the Year Two part of the Plan fails me, then I get another job, somehow, that either gives me enough income to stay in the country on a long-term work visa or sponsorship to stay in the country on a long-term work visa or whatever else I need to do to stay in the country on a long-term work visa.

And if not, then I join a dating service and meet a Brit who will marry me and keep me in the country forever.

Poetry day!

2009-09-01T20:35:00.002+02:00

In the hypothetical world in which I get married, one of the songs I will have at the reception is The Beatles’ Here, There and Everywhere off the Revolver album. I firmly believe that this is one of the most romantic songs of all time. (I don’t know what copyright restrictions there are about posting complete poems and lyrics and things, so I’m not going to risk it. I got the lyrics from here.)

Let’s start with the very first line:
To lead a better life, I need my love to be here
Now, I am not advocating obsessive and possessive behavior, but I do believe that having a happy relationship/being a happy person will help you lead a better life. It’s like the line from whatever movie: “You make me want to be a better man.” [As Good As It Gets? I don’t know, I just know the line from previews/commercials/etc.] Love should make you want to lead a better life; it should give you the emotional security to be able to do so.

A few lines later:
Nobody can deny that there’s something there.
True happiness is radiant. The best couples that I know have almost visible chemistry together. Friends and strangers alike look at them and know that they are, or should be, together.

Both of us thinking how good it could be.
The best couples that I know are partnerships. Both parts of the couple are invested in the relationship, and involved in the relationship to a similar level. If one person is more ‘in love’ than the other, the relationship is unbalanced, which doesn’t bode well. This line implies that the relationship in the song is equal. They’re both thinking how good it could be – the singer (he, from now on, because it’s The Beatles) isn’t just longing for someone he can’t have.

Same with the next line:
Someone is speaking but she doesn’t know he’s there.
This also shows the girl having an active part of the relationship – she’s just as interested in and captivated by the singer as he is by her. And I’ve totally been in that situation, where I’m with someone I’m interested in and completely forget that there are other people around. It’s a lovely feeling, especially when it’s mutual: when neither of you notice that you're surrounded by other people. *sigh*

Knowing that love is to share
Each one believing that love never dies
More proof that this is not a one-sided, unrequited relationship. This is a relationship that at least has the potential to last a lifetime. This is not a fling, where you expect it to end; this is an actual relationship with all the possibilities that involves.

Every line is like this; the lyrics are perfect. Almost every word either points to the equality of the relationship or the depth of their feelings. They show a couple that is equally dedicated to each other, not just unrequited infatuation like so many ‘romantic’ songs. And the melody is sweet and relatively simple. It’s soft and slow and singable. What better song to play at a (fictional) wedding reception, a celebration of love and partnership and the future?

My weekend getaway

2009-08-31T21:16:00.001+02:00

Saturday afternoon I went down to London for a brief weekend getaway. There were two plans for the weekend: see the production of Arcadia on Saturday night, and go salsa dancing on Sunday night. Everything else was incidental.

I got in uneventfully, checked into the hostel relatively uneventfully although there were some problems with the specifics of which bed I was in, and then went out for a shop/wander. My hostel was literally right up the street from the salsa club for Sunday night, so that worked out nicely for me.

I went to Waterstone’s Piccadilly, because it calms me and because I wanted to check prices on a few things and because what else am I going to do at 5:30 on a Saturday night in London? I restrained myself from buying any more books. I can’t buy any more books until I have an income of some kind. Then I bought some food from the Tesco Express at Trafalgar Square and sat on the grass outside the National Gallery and ate and read and people-watched. Trafalgar Square was packed – not only is the plinth project still going on – although I still find it more interesting as a web feed – but there were also some acrobatics/break-dancing/magic performances going on. There were also a few protests – I saw one guy in a Polska shirt making what I assume will be a YouTube video about the political situation in Iran, and there were some Falun Gong supporters handing out leaflets just past St. Martin-in-the-Fields. I felt a little bit guilty brushing them off, but one person can only care about a certain number of causes before exhausting themselves, and I’d rather support someone I actually know.

I wrote about the performance of Arcadia here. Suffice to say, it deserves every good word that it has gotten, and I have a few new actor crushes.

Back at the hostel, I remembered why I don’t look for hostels first when planning weekends like this one. You can’t beat the price, and when all you need is a bed for the night, it’s fine – but everyone is so young: they’re on a gap year, or just spontaneously travelling, and if they’re not a current student then they’re ‘actually a college grad!’ as one girl smugly said. I know I was the same way when I was 20, 21, 22, 23 – and to some extent still am. Doesn’t mean I can’t mock it when I see it.

I tried to sleep in Sunday morning, since I knew I would be staying up incredibly late. I made it to 9 o’clock, which is not really sleeping in when you don’t go to sleep until 1 or 2 am and are planning on staying up until 6. I had seen a poster on the Tube for an exhibit at the Wellcome Collection about ‘Exquisite Bodies’ – mostly anatomical models: it looked interesting, and I’d never been, so I decided to see if I could find it. The Wellcome Collection is near Euston, so it wasn’t a horribly long walk (I was staying near King’s Cross), and I picked up some food at the train station to have for lunch. The museum was fantastic. The special exhibit was indeed full of anatomical models, quite a lot of which featured pregnancy which reinforced my “ADOPTION!!!!” belief. The rest of the museum was also quite interesting – exhibits from Wellcome’s own collection, one case of which made me want to research and write about death rituals across cultures/time periods. Somehow I wasn’t quite as fascinated by the collection of amputation saws and obstetrical forceps. Then there was a section on different aspects of research that they do – I found the genome stuff quite interesting, malaria less so, but that’s just my personal interests and research. Each section – there were four, I think? Human Genome Project, malaria, obesity, and the body/health – had an area of artistic representation (sculpture, painting, writing, etc.) connected to it. There was one print in the genome section called Twenty Three Pairs by an artist called Andrea Duncan, where she represented the 23 human chromosomes as socks, which I thought was very cool, and a poem in that same section called “To John Donne” that I liked a lot as well. (I should do a Poetry Day again….any suggestions?) Anyway, the point is that if you want a different museum to go to in London – not that there’s any lack of them – The Wellcome Collection is very cool and well-done. Interactive parts that aren’t just for children, as well, which is nice…..

Then I ate my lunch in Green Park and tried to decide what to do next. I ended up walking around the shopping areas, including a browse through Carnaby Street and a return to Waterstone’s Piccadilly where I unexpectedly found out what my absolutely least favourite teacher of all time is doing now. At this point it was mid-afternoon, and I still had several hours before I was meeting people for dancing, so I went to the V&A – my original thought was to go to one of the Proms Concert Music series, but I didn’t want to spend more money than I had to and didn’t want to have to deal with a schedule and whatnot. I may come down some other time in the next few weeks specifically to do one of the Proms. So I went to the V&A instead, and admired the plaster casts of the Plantaganet tombs. Fontevrault is so on my list-of-places-to-visit someday.

There’s not a lot else to do on a Sunday afternoon for an hour or so before meeting people, especially when you’re wandering by yourself, so I went back to the hostel and packed up my stuff and put it in a place that I could grab it easily when I came back in the morning (a good thing as it turned out, since due to the aforementioned confusion over beds, when I came back this morning there was someone sleeping in the bed that I would have collapsed on. But as it was 7am already, and my stuff was all ready to go, I didn’t care so much). Then I wandered through the Russell Square area, talked to my sister (and drained my cellphone battery, oops), and reminisced about early visits to London.

Met my fellow dancers with no major problems, and went to a weekly salsa event that, as it turns out, is at the hotel that we stayed at one of the first times we were in London. Danced, danced, danced….then went to find food which is not easy to do at 10:30 on a Sunday night. We ended up getting a takeaway and eating it in the waiting area of King’s Cross. We also did some impromptu salsa and rueda in the waiting area of King’s Cross, to the amusement of the night staff and people waiting for the last trains. Finally – after about two hours of eating, everyone else drinking and trying to find ways to put off going to the big salsa club, we made it to our – well, my – main destination. Where we stayed until 6 am. There was never a point where I wanted a dance and had to go more than a song to be asked to dance. But, then, some of the fun for me at major salsa events is watching everyone else and admiring how good they are. But still – lots of dancing, lots of new people whose names I’m either never going to remember or never knew in the first place (and a very few for whom that is a Good Thing – my creepy-guy-repellent WAS NOT WORKING. Grinding is not salsa. Grabbing my arse is not an appropriate salsa hold. And kissing my ear before you’ve even made eye contact, without saying a word, IS NEVER OKAY. SHUDDER.) But anyway, I got lots of good dances, some with people that I knew and most with people that I didn’t, and the only dark spot (other than the creepy guys) was the total vanishing of the friend that we’d gone there to meet, sometime during the last song. I hate incomplete evenings like that, without even a chance to say goodbye.

The crew of us that had gone together then went to McDonald’s to fortify for the rest of the day – they were all going to Notting Hill Carnival, but I knew that I would just freak out if I went, so I instead caught the first train back to Nottingham (thank goodness for bank holidays and no off-peak restrictions) where I came home, charged my phone, checked facebook, and slept for a whole three hours. I’m surprised I’m not more tired now, actually. I think I may be able to make it to midnight fairly coherently.

And then it’s back to work for me. I only have a week to whip the dissertation into shape, but after the getaway it’s all seeming more manageable.

Fear of Commitment, continued

2009-08-27T15:14:00.000+02:00

"Calling All Cynics"

This is, I feel, a good definition of skeptic, cynic, and pessimist. It’s like the definition I heard or read once for introvert vs. extrovert – I can’t remember where I heard or read it, but I have completely adopted it – where an extrovert is someone who recharges by being around other people and an introvert recharges by being alone. With that definition, I am definitely an introvert. I need to be around other people sometimes, or I go stir-crazy, but being around especially large groups of people definitely drains me.

I feel the same way about the definitions given here, especially when it comes to me and love. I think I’m somewhere between a skeptic and a cynic. I trusted, and was betrayed/let down, and it was devastating. I was devastated. By that criteria, I’m a cynic. But I don’t think that I refuse to trust now. I am reluctant to trust, definitely, but I don’t think I completely refuse to trust. There are people I have met recently that I trust.

But then I think about how I was with my last ‘boyfriend’ – I was and am still totally crazy about him, and wish we hadn’t had to end things, and am going to miss him terribly when he finally leaves town. But I deliberately told myself I wasn’t going to fall in love with him. I wouldn’t let myself – even in my own head – use those terms. I like him a lot, and there’s no one else I’d rather spend time with right now, and talking to him in any form makes me happy, and seeing him (especially dance) with other women makes me insanely jealous to the point where I feel physically ill. But I won’t let myself, even in the privacy of my own head, say that I’m in love with him. Whenever I started coming close to that idea, I would remind myself of the reasons that it would never work long-term, or I would force myself into an emotional or communication distance – deliberately so that I wouldn’t get too close to him and fall in love. So, yeah, I suppose that, with him, I refuse to trust. I suppose that I am, when it comes to relationships, a cynic.

This also plays into my previous post about what-ifs. What if I’d let myself get closer to him and fall in love with him – or admit it, at least – and just let myself go all-out emotionally, the way I did with CD? Would things be different now? Would we have been willing to at least attempt a long-distance relationship? Or would I just be devastated again, and have lost him from my life completely? Obviously, there’s no way of knowing, but I can’t stop myself from dwelling on it.

It’s like the article says, “Deep inside all skeptics and most cynics is a deep ache to trust again, but to do so without the fear of being let down, disappointed, betrayed or devastated.” I doubt that he reads this blog, or even knows that it exists, but I almost wish that he did. I wish I could say these things to him, but I can’t. I don’t trust him – or really myself – enough to think that it would make a difference. The cynic in me can’t believe that it would make any difference. Even though deep inside I want to be proven wrong, I want to have that chance, I can’t and won’t let myself take that emotional risk. And I will be stuck with these what-ifs forever.

Fear of commitment

2009-08-27T14:16:00.003+02:00

I apparently have a fear of commitment. I can't make decisions about my life and stick with them. I am constantly wondering, "But what if I did this instead?" or putting off decisions until it's too late to do anything about it.

My latest thing is getting a Ph.D. For years I just assumed that I'd get a Ph.D. eventually. I am good at academics, my parents work in academia, etc., etc. This fall when the application deadline was approaching, I passed on it. I had just barely started the Master's - at least that's what it felt like - and had no idea what area I wanted to work in. Since part of the application process here is a research proposal, and I had none, I passed. After the essays in May - a completely emotionally and mentally draining experience - I told myself that I'd clearly made the right decision, that I couldn't possibly spend the next three years putting myself through that.

Then I started work on the master's dissertation. And the closer I get to the end of it - *insert panic here* - the more I realize how much I enjoy it. The more I can see myself doing something similar, long-term. The more I wish I were going on to do a Ph.D. And I don't know if that's just because I'm nervous about 'what comes next' - the whole job search thing especially - or what. But the thing is, I still enjoy my topic. I'm a little bit bored, because other than the dissertation there's not a lot going on in my life, but I still enjoy my topic. I enjoy finding new things to read about it and I even enjoy the frustration of the writing, trying to figure out what exactly to say and how exactly to say it. (Maybe it's also a sign that non-fiction writing is something I should pursue more intensively than I have been doing....)

I also have been going back and forth about the job search. Obviously I am here in Nottingham for the next while, due to leasing a house here and things like that. And there are really good reasons to stay in this area. But as I look at the job listings, I can't help but be tempted by many other places. I'm almost paralysed by choice. I find myself rationalising looking for jobs in Birmingham and London especially - it's not that far by train, etc. - even though I know all the reasons why I am staying here, and should just stick with it.

I can't escape what-ifs. How would my life be different if I did - or had done - this? What if I'd done something differently in my relationship - would things be different now? What if I found a job in London - would I be happier? What if I decided to pursue a Ph.D. - how would that change my life? I need to find focus.

My dad's visit

2009-08-26T18:22:00.004+02:00

My dad came to visit at the beginning of August. It was lovely. We rented a car and were able to go around any number of places that I couldn't or wouldn't have gotten to on my own; we also spent some time just hanging out and trying to understand cricket.

Note: I still do not understand cricket. I understand it a little bit more now than I used to, but I think I need one or both of two things: 1 - to attend a live test match. 2 - a specific player to watch/follow through a game/series.

One of the nice things about my dad being here, and taking me around places, is that it reminds me of some of the things I like about this area of the country: the history. London is the obvious place for history, of course, and god knows I love going to London and going to the museums and turning a corner and seeing, say, the pub that Chaucer frequented (it's in Southwark) or Dickens (it's in the City and is actually quite dark inside) or whatever.

History in the Midlands, at least the history that is packaged for tourists, is much more of the 'normal people' form of history, where 'normal people' often means 'noble people who were active outside of London'. Pre-Industrial Revolution sites are stately homes of landed gentry, not usually royal (there are exceptions); post-Industrial Revolution sites are, you know, focused on the Industrial Revolution and its effects including the rise of the merchant/middle/industrialist class.

Dad suggested going to Newstead Abbey, but I have been there twice in the last ten years, and have less than no desire to go back. The Romantic poets tend to annoy me and I can't stand Byron as a personality. Instead, to satisfy the literary pilgrimage portion of the trip, we went to Eastwood. It made for a nice afternoon trip - we went to the main museum which also had quite a lot of information about mining in the area and daily life for the working class at the time, as well as Lawrence's life, and we went to the birthplace museum, in the house that Lawrence was actually born in. I quite like Lawrence, actually, and think that his writing often gets overshadowed by either the more 'experimental' modernist authors like James Joyce or Virginia Woolf or people like that, or by the obscenity trial about Lady Chatterley's Lover. I really liked Lady Chatterley's Lover. I liked the writing style of Sons and Lovers, although I found the central relationship between Paul and his mother incredibly creepy. I also want to read Women in Love, but haven't gotten to it yet.

We also took a day and drove up to Gainsborough Old Hall. That was fantastic. We found out when we got up there that Gainsborough has a claim to be the place where King Canute 'tried' to stop the tide, so that's really cool in and of itself. The Old Hall, although smaller than other manor houses we've been to and completely surrounded by the town now, is a fantastic museum. The kitchen and banqueting hall area is set up as it would have been in the late fifteenth century, when Richard III visited, and the kitchen especially shows what a working medieval kitchen would have been like. The audio tour gets a touch long at times, but is informative without being boring. Gainsborough Old Hall was also a safe place for the Puritans/'Pilgrim Fathers' before the Dutch exile and journey to America. I can imagine that they do quite a lot there with living history/reenactment events - it's a perfect place for it.

Over the weekend that he was here, we did things slightly closer to home. First we went to Sudbury Hall. The Hall itself is fine - nice, but nothing really extraordinary. The Museum of Childhood, on the other hand, is amazing. A nice mix of display and interactive - including a 'chimney' that kids can climb through to see what it would have been like for chimney sweeps, a Victorian classroom, and a room on storytelling/books/imaginative play. It was a blast. We were there with my godmother and her granddaughters, and another family friend with her husband and mother-in-law. The girls loved the Museum of Childhood, even the older one who's fourteen. (She and I had a lovely squee-ing discussion at the Doctor Who exhibit that was part of the 'pop culture'/'collectibles' exhibit.) The eight-year-old was in heaven. She went through the chimney about ten times. There's also a lake on the estate, with about two dozen swans that we counted, so we got some relaxing "be in nature" time in as well. The other nice thing is that, no matter what, days at my godmother's are always full days with my godmother. If she comes in to Nottingham, then it's lunch and maybe an hour or two of shopping. If I go there, it's "Oh, no, we'd better drive you back because it's after dark now."

The Sunday my dad was here, we went to Chatsworth House. It's one of our favourite places to go - in fact, I had begged off a trip with some friends the week or so before because I knew that my dad would want to go. Chatsworth is so beautiful. The house is currently undergoing quite a bit of restoration, but is still open to visitors, and they have an exhibit inside called "Chatsworth at the Movies" or something like that. Obviously one of their main film connections is The Duchess, but there's also Pride and Prejudice, where Chatsworth is both the interior and the exterior for Pemberley (as it may have been for Austen herself), and an upcoming movie called The Wolfman which I don't really want to see, but might since it features Chatsworth. (...what? That's normal.)

Chatsworth was also hosting a Jaguar car show that day. It was an incredible, welcome coincidence, because car shows are one of the things that my dad and I do together when we can, and we both appreciate Jaguars greatly. It was nice. I miss cars sometimes.

We also wandered through the grounds. Gave up on the maze - we know there's a way in, because we could hear people in the center. We just couldn't figure it out. We wandered around the gardens for a while, just enjoying the views and the fresh air and the fountains and the beauty of the area. I even took a few pictures, which is quite rare for me.

We'd rented a car, as I said, and a GPS system to go with it, because driving on the other side of the road is difficult enough without also having to figure out how exactly to get places. The only time the GPS was a problem was in Gainsborough, where it told us that the Old Hall was at least half a mile away from where it actually was. On the way back from Chatsworth, we turned off the GPS (it wanted us to take the motorway, and traffic was backed up for miles to get there) and managed to find our own way back. Success!

We also did some Nottingham-touristy stuff: The Galleries of Justice and the Caves, both of which now do dramatised tours although I think I preferred the Caves a few years ago when it was an audio tour setup. Also we learned that there aren't really any cybercafes in Nottingham - one up on Mansfield Road, I think they said, and a few computers at the information centre. That's it - at least, that's all that the information centre told us about. (I wonder if that would be a feasible small business idea, or if there are enough wireless access points around to make it unnecessary?)

While my dad was here, we also spent some time just chilling. I read Silks, by Dick Francis (which I reviewed on my new book blog, where you can also find some comments about literary pilgrimages a la our Eastwood trip), we watched The Ashes, we went to two pub quizzes (my normal monthly PGSA one and a commercially-provided one at the carvery attached to the hotel), and we ate takeaways. All in all, a good trip.

Feeling old

2009-08-13T13:25:00.003+02:00

In nineteen months I will be thirty. My mind boggles at this fact. Most days I do not feel that I should be closer to thirty than to twenty-five. I look at how people my age are portrayed in the media (TV shows and movies) and think that I have not accomplished anywhere close to what they are shown to have accomplished, in any aspect of my life. I need to stop comparing myself to fictional characters. (I need to stop comparing myself to real characters, too.)

I still don’t completely know what I want to be when I grow up. Right now I’m trying to get back into teaching, but I have the bad habit of wondering – what if I would be happier doing something else? What if I’m just wasting my time waiting for this stuff to get worked out, when really I should be working toward qualifications in something else? Why can’t I just find something and be content with that?

Last weekend was the sesquicentennial celebration of my hometown, which included an all-school reunion, which included my ten-year high school reunion. I can’t believe that it’s been ten years. I still have vivid memories of high school. A decade cannot have passed when I remember it so clearly.

My life is nothing like I thought it would be ten years ago. When I graduated from high school, I thought that I'd go to Luther, get a job, have a relationship, and it would all work out. I never thought that ten years later, I'd still be floundering and drifting, looking for something to spark off some kind of passion within me.

Will I find that passion before I'm thirty? Before my next reunion? I hope so....

Why I don't want to go back to the US

2009-08-02T16:52:00.000+02:00

I am so tired of the looks of disbelief and shock when I say that I don’t want to go back to the States when I finish my MA (or, indeed, ever). So. Tired. It all comes back to my general life frustration with people who can’t quite understand that other people have different motivations and desires than they do. Just because you want to go to the States doesn’t mean that I do. And it doesn’t mean that I am weird, or crazy, or misguided because I don’t.

If I went back to the States, I wouldn’t be able to go back to my hometown. There’s nothing explicitly preventing me from going there, other than the job market. The major employer in my hometown is the University, and it is highly unlikely that I would get a job there. Also, I don’t want to. As much as some people I know complain about the lack of things to do in Nottingham, Nottingham is a hotbed of activity compared to my hometown, and everywhere around my hometown. Therefore, if I wanted to get a job, and have any kind of a social life, I would have to move somewhere else. If I stay here, I can stay in a city that I already know with people that I already know.

It would not be out of the realm of possibility to move to, say, Chicago. However, if I moved anywhere other than Chicago (or a city of similar or larger size), I would have to have a car. There is very little public transportation between cities in the US unless you are on the eastern seaboard. If I lived in Chicago or somewhere similar I could probably manage to survive without a car. Anywhere else, I could not. And if I had a car, I would also have to have little things like car insurance and, probably, a parking permit or a garage. If I stay here, I don’t have to deal with a car. I can get around perfectly well, anywhere in the country, without one.

If I moved back to the States, I would have to find somewhere to live. It is possible that I could find a place with an (unknown) roommate, or a sublet, which would be mildly affordable. I would probably need furniture. It is difficult to find a furnished place to rent in the States. At the moment, I don’t own much furniture. I have a few antique things that I have inherited from various relations, but I don’t have things like a bed and mattress. No matter where I went, I would have to buy them. If I stay here, I can (and have) found a furnished place to live.

If I moved back to the States, I would probably have to live in a city where I don’t know anyone, or at best I would only know one or two people. I would have to form an entirely new social group without any of the constructs that normally help people form an entirely new social group. I am an introvert. This would be exceptionally difficult for me. If I stay here, I can stay near my social group and support network.

If I moved back to the States, I would have to buy health insurance. It is possible that I would be able to get a job with a company that provided health insurance of some kind. Even with company health insurance, health care in the US is expensive. If I stay here, I can still use the NHS.

If I moved back to the States, I would have to find a job. No matter where I am in the world, this is going to be difficult. I have degrees in literature. This qualifies me for essentially nothing. I have teaching experience, but no teaching qualifications. If I were to try to become a teacher in the US, I would have to deal with what I consider one of the most misguided, poorly written, and poorly executed forms of education legislation in No Child Left Behind. I would also have to get teaching qualifications, which would also cost money. If I stay here, even though I need a visa in order to stay, I have figured out what I need to do.

Those are most of the reasons why I don’t want to go back to the States right now. But the most important reason is also the hardest to define. I don’t feel like I fit in the US. I fit here. I feel comfortable here. I feel happy here. I have been happier here than I have been anywhere else in the world. My life makes sense here in a way that it never did in the States, and that it only approached in Slovakia.

I just really wish that people would stop treating my decision to stay here as if it were completely incomprehensible. I have reasons. They are good reasons. They work for me. If I wanted to go back to the States, I would have done so after my job in Slovakia. Why is this so hard for other people to accept?

I have tested my limits, and they are here.

2009-07-12T21:05:00.001+02:00

Empirical, non-scientific, totally subjective evidence that my headaches are stress-related: I went for a walk today to try and wake up, etc. My headache decreased the further away from my place that I got and increased when I came home. It’s mostly gone now, although the light-headedness and exhaustion is back.

I have been incredibly stressed for the last week or so, which is where the lightheadedness and exhaustion comes from. It turns out that the amount of stress I can handle before having a minor breakdown is just this much. Unfortunately, the stress hasn’t eased (much) and most of the stressful situations aren’t resolved yet. (Two of them have; at least five are ongoing.)

“Afternoon” is not sufficient detail when making plans with me for the next day. Just something to keep in mind. Another thing to keep in mind is that I hate, hate, hate waiting for people. I get stuck in a state of limbo where I can’t do anything, and then I feel like I’ve wasted time, and then I get angry and frustrated.

I haven’t done much of anything today. I will probably regret that later.

Beating my own path

2009-06-30T14:00:00.002+02:00

My facebook status right now reads, “in the middle of things, and can’t quite see the path to the end yet.” It’s a feeling that I have a lot. Sometimes it’s reassuring. I try to tell myself that I’m in the middle of, say, a novel, and the (happy) ending is still coming. Right now it’s just overwhelming.

I’m in the middle of the job search. I have applied to nearly twenty different places (mostly schools, for jobs that don’t require teaching qualifications) but haven’t heard back from anywhere, except for a few acknowledgements that they have received my application. I have several websites that I check every couple of days to try to find more places to apply, but everything I’m finding either has an immediate start or is something I’m not qualified to do yet. I can’t do something with an immediate start, since I’m working on my dissertation this summer and working part-time for the International Office as well. I may have to scale back the job applications – or at least the emotional stress of them – until it gets closer to September and I actually can do something with an immediate start. By then, I may need something with an immediate start. I just hope that the things I’m seeing now are still around then.

I’m in the middle of my dissertation research. Objectively, I have plenty of time. The paper’s not due until September. But if I don’t start writing something, I will lose momentum and get distracted by other aspects of the paper and other things in my life. But I keep running across more things that might be relevant, and take a break to find them and think about reading them. This is a normal stage for me of the paper-researching and paper-writing process. I just need to buckle down and get through it.

I’m in the middle of house-hunting. My housemates and I applied two and a half weeks ago for this house that we had totally fallen in love with. The estate agent said they’d be in touch ‘soon.’ We haven’t heard anything yet. My housemates’ lease is up in a month, and we need something we can move into in about three weeks. Things are getting a touch frustrating.

I’m in the middle of planning and writing a presentation for the International Office on student travel in the UK. This is another thing that I just need to sit down and do. I keep getting distracted by the websites and looking up my own stuff. I don’t have the money or the time for a trip somewhere (other than the ones I have already factored in). It shouldn’t take me too long to write the presentation. I just need to do it.

Any one of these things would be manageable if it were on its own. It's all of them happening at the same time - and all being at approximately the same chaotic stage - that is affecting me right now.

2009-06-25T10:25:00.001+02:00

'Twitterature' is coming...

I am of two minds about this (not that anyone’s asked me, or would).

On one hand, it’s kind of intriguing. It’s always a good idea to at least experiment with new forms of production and new types of media. It may be a colossal failure, it may end up being a very short-lived success, or it may end up creating a new format for literature. Japan already has text-message novels, so what’s really the difference between that and Twitter lit? (Twit-lit? I shudder.) Also, the idea of compressing ‘classics’ into a more ‘manageable’ size is not exactly a new one. SparkNotes, Cliff’s Notes, and my personal favourite from a humour/entertainment perspective, Book-a-Minute . Really, this idea doesn’t sound that different from book-a-minute, at least right now.

But it remains to be seen what they’ll do with (or to) the books that they adapt. Is it just going to be plot summaries, in twenty tweets? Is it going to be twenty selected 140-character passages? Because classics aren’t classics merely because of the story they tell. They’re classics because of the way that they tell it. A writer’s style – the way s/he uses words, constructs sentences, lays out the paragraphs on the page, and so on – is so much a part of what makes a book a ‘classic’. Are these students going to maintain the authors’ styles, or is it going to be story reductions only?

When ‘Twitterature’ is released, I expect there will be howls of outrage over people who will read ‘Twitterature’ instead of reading the ‘classics’ that they condense. And there will be plenty of them. Just like there are lots of students who read SparkNotes or Cliff’s Notes or Wikipedia pages about books instead of reading the books that they’re based on, not to mention the people who watch the movie and think that qualifies as knowing the book. People forget that the plot of a book is not the same as the book itself. Pride and Prejudice and Bridget Jones’s Diary have the exact same plot, but they’re not the same book. (Persuasion and The Edge of Reason are an even closer connection, plot- and pacing-wise. Still not the same book.)

If ‘Twitterature’ is a way to reduce books while still maintaining a sense of the author’s style, then more power to them. If it becomes a gateway for people to get some exposure to a ‘classic’ and then read the full thing, then again, more power to them. If it is just a quirky way to summarize books that were on a high school reading list, then it’s not nearly as innovative or ambitious as they want it to be.

Interesting things from my RSS feeds the last few days

2009-06-17T23:51:00.002+02:00

“At the same time, however, it's hard not to wonder why a government that is confident it won fair and square would authorize police to beat citizens with abandon, shut down opposition headquarters and various news and social networking outlets, and arrest over 100 reformist politicians.” [Huffington Post article about the current situation in Iran]

NPR Monkey See Blog: The Shelf of Constant Reproach
For a long time, I didn’t have a shelf of constant reproach. Almost every book on my bookshelves was a book that I’d read, most of them several times. Now, of course, I have a bit of reproach staring at me. It’s not too bad yet; it’s only been in the last semester that I’ve gotten behind on my reading for pleasure, and I was even able to cull out the books that I knew I wasn’t going to get to and take them to the bookcrossing site on campus.

What I do have is a list of constant reproach. There are so many lists out there of ‘books you should read’ or ‘books that changed the world’ or ‘best books of xxxx’. And I’ve read a lot of them, but not all of them. And some of them I know I won’t read (anything by Joyce or Faulkner…really, anything experimentally modernist) but a lot of them I want to. And then there are all the books that have been published in the last, say, ten or fifteen years that I hear about and want to read. My list of ‘books I want to read’ is so freakishly long, and gets longer every day. I need a better filtering system for it.

APOD
I found this via Twitter. It’s gorgeous. And the archive goes back to 1995! I so do not have enough time these days to go back through it all but what I’ve seen so far is gorgeous.

Music and Emotion
Music and Neuroscience

Living Abroad
HAHAHAHA!!! I win.

Tips for 20-somethings
I still have problems with more than a few of these.

Crazy talk

2009-06-15T20:17:00.001+02:00

At what point in a new relationship should romantic history be brought up? And how?

Of course you don’t want to start off a new relationship by comparing it to your previous ones. But past experience informs – sometimes to a large extent – present behavior. And knowledge of someone’s past experience can explain their present behavior – not necessarily excuse it, but make it more understandable. (“Oh, thaaat’s why she does that…. She needs to get over it.”) So telling a new boy/girl friend a bit about your past might be useful for explaining seemingly crazy behavior and getting through those first tenuous weeks/months.

For example, and this is a minor example in my personal arsenal of crazy, when my guy and I go dancing, I tend to watch him and be aware of where he is as much as I can. Part of it is that I really like watching him dance – he’s a good dancer and very fun to watch – but the other night I was watching him and thinking about it and realized that a part of the reason that I watch him so much is because of the time that I was abandoned at a dance by a date who left with someone else. [People who have ever talked to me about my love life may remember this story as “the date who brought a date to our date”.] Obviously that is not the full reason (he’s really fun to watch!) but it is a part of the reason.

And that’s not the only example. I have any number of paranoias – and I say paranoias deliberately because intellectually I know that they are irrational – about relationships. I know exactly where they come from – almost to the day in some cases. I can recognize their effect on my thought patterns and I am sure that they affect my actual behavior to an extent. Being trapped in them, I can’t objectively evaluate their impact on my behavior, but I’m sure it’s there. And I feel like it might help if people involved with me know about these paranoias and the triggers for them, so that they know that I’m not trying to act like a lunatic. I just don’t know what the best way to bring it up would be.

Decision-making

2009-05-26T00:29:00.003+02:00

I have problems with decisions. These problems fall into a couple of different categories:

1. Day-to-day decisions such as where/what/when to eat, what to do for fun, et cetera.
2. Life decisions such as where/what/when to study, live, work, et cetera.

Decisions in category 1 are difficult to make because they're not essential, at all. Most of the time I don't have strong opinions on them either way. Pizza instead of Indian? Sure, why not? Eat at home instead of going out? Sure, why not? I don't care either way, 99.9% of the time. I won't be offended by any choice; in fact, I will be happy and content with any choice. When I say, "I don't make decisions" these are the kind of decisions I mean. Usually someone else has much stronger feelings about whatever the situation is than I do, and I'd rather let someone who cares make that decision.

Decisions in category 2 are difficult to make because they are essential. These are the ones I tend to make after long, long, long self-debate. I am usually okay with these decisions, and want them to take effect quickly. (See also: my feelings about my own hypothetical wedding.)

Recently, though, I've been second-guessing my category 2 decisions. I don't question my decision to come to Nottingham, but I question my choice of field of study both here (I should have done linguistics and medieval lit instead of modern lit and medieval lit) and at Luther (I should have done a math, communications, education, or business/finance degree instead of or in addition to my English degree).

I also have a decision to make in the next few weeks that falls into both category 1 and category 2. I have to decide where I want to live and look for a job for this next year. I don't really care where in the UK I live (category 1) - I think I could be happy in either Nottingham or London. London will be better for job availability, but Nottingham is better for cost of living. (There are other factors involved as well, but those won't be determined for a while yet themselves....) However, if I want to stay in Nottingham and share a house with my good friends, I have to decide very soon (category 2). It's a bit nerve-wracking at the moment. I swing back and forth from one to the other on a nearly hourly basis.

It's hard having to make decisions about one part of your future when the decisions about other parts of your future cannot be made yet. It seems a bit backwards in some ways. I wouldn't mind moving to London if I find a good job there. I wouldn't mind staying in Nottingham if I find a good job here. But most of the jobs that I am qualified for that would start at the right time for me (September) aren't being advertised yet. So I have to make a decision before I have all the information to make the decision.

A new try

2009-05-23T21:11:00.001+02:00

This last week when I was in Minneapolis, I had a couple of conversations about blogs. I know a few people who have blogs, but who don’t update very often (like me), and we talked about how we get writer’s block, basically, about being profound and/or witty and that keeps us from posting anything. (We also talked about how we essentially write blog posts in our heads, and then by the time we sit down at the computer, we don’t feel the necessity of typing it all out because we’ve already dealt with whatever it was by writing it in our heads.) However, I find that the blogs that I enjoy reading the most are not necessarily the witty or profound ones, but the ones that present snapshots of daily life. And yet I can’t bring myself to write about “what I did today” most of the time. I’d like to change that, so today I present for you: what I did today.

I’m still trying to get over jetlag and get back on a normal sleeping schedule. It’s going better than it did in January, probably because I’m actually trying now. I still didn’t fall asleep until 3am yesterday. I had my alarm set for 9:30, so that I could get up and run some errands in the morning. Yeah, that didn’t so much happen. But I was up and showered before noon, so that’s a sort of progress, I suppose.

I walked into Beeston to the stationer’s so that I could get a plastic organizer box for my kitchen cupboard (perfect size for the Easy Mac and microwave Hamburger Helper packets that I brought back from the States) and an expanding file for things like bank statements in a probably futile attempt to keep myself organized. We’ll see how well that works. I’m trying to treat this summer term as a sort of reset for me, organization/work –wise. I am hopeful that my dissertation will be a little bit easier than this last essay writing session because of it. Hey, there’s always hope. The expanding file was the last main thing I needed to finish my room clean-up/organization of yesterday. There’s still a few little things, but that was the main thing. I still need to redo my makeup drawer and sort my books. (The Arts Graduate Centre on campus is now an official bookcrossing point, so any of the books that I have that I know I’m not going to get around to reading or don’t want anymore might as well go there.)

Then this afternoon I met a friend for a wander. She’s headed back to the States for her Ph.D. in less than a month, so we’re running out of time that we can spend together. We walked around Wollaton Park – the first time in years I’ve been in the park and the first time I’ve ever really walked around it. We went into the house, too - another first for me. I wouldn’t mind going back sometime (especially since it’s free). Then we came back here and transferred files - I have some movies on my hard drive that she wanted, and vice versa.

By the time I got back inside after walking her to the exit(where I live is kind of a maze, and all the buildings look alike), my flatmates had gotten the TV in our kitchen working for the first time since January. So I actually made some dinner and ate in the kitchen with my flatmates for once. It was good, but our kitchen is really too small to make that feasible for very long. Other than that, I’ve just been overly checking the internet (as usual) and watching American sitcoms on E4.

What if.....

2009-05-23T01:50:00.002+02:00

The greatest stories come out of “what if” questions. Personally, I really like speculative fiction, especially parallel universe and time travel stories. They usually come out of the biggest “what if” questions. What if the Axis powers had won World War 2, or the Confederacy had won the Civil War? What if JFK were never assassinated? How would the world be different?

“What if” questions are also why I write romance, when I write anything non-academic (an increasingly rare occurrence). Since most of my what-ifs revolve around my love life (or lack thereof), my story writing is a way for me to come to terms with my own what-ifs. The biggest one is, of course, the summer before I went to Slovakia. What if I’d stayed in the US instead? My life would be incredibly different right now.*

What-ifs often present themselves right away. You walk away from a situation thinking, “Oh, I should have done x or said y”. You torture yourself for minutes, hours, or days with different variants of what you could have done or said to make things turn out differently. But the thing about what-ifs is that you can’t really evaluate them until time has passed, until your life has progressed beyond that turning point. I don’t want to get all fatalistic about stuff, but if things are meant to happen, they will happen. What-ifs suck at the time – and for years afterward in some cases – but in the end you may end up where you are supposed to be, even if it’s not where you planned and imagined.

And that’s why I write romances based (loosely) around my what-ifs. I love my life right here, right now, but I need to explore my what-ifs, and give myself a chance – even if it’s a fictional chance – to live out the life I am not leading.

*Of course, the what-if in that case has nothing to do with my actually going to Slovakia, since that was all in place before the what-if moment. But it’s complicated to explain without going into details, so it’s easier just to blame the what-if on Slovakia.

Scenarios

2009-05-04T18:55:00.000+02:00

I really need to learn how to be ruder. Maybe ruder isn’t exactly the right word, but I really need to learn to speak up for myself, even when people say things that they think are innocuous, innocent, or helpful.

Scenario: I am getting ready to go to a ball. I am wearing a charcoal, shimmery dress. My toenails are painted bright green. I do not have a problem with this. I think it is unconventional, kind of creative, and honestly, I don’t care. My flat mates take one look at my toenails and inform me that I must change the colour. They will not take excuses. They give me their own nail polish. They do everything except paint them for me. They tell me that if I wear green, it will ruin my outfit. They do not listen to my statement of, “I don’t care.” They do not listen when I say that hardly anyone will be looking at my feet (“You’d be surprised.” “….I don’t care.”) They insist. I give in.

Scenario: I have hurt my foot, six days previously. It still hurts a bit to walk, and I want to get better quickly, so I am trying to stay off it as much as possible. A friend is having a birthday party at an unknown place in town. I decide not to go. I have warned the friend whose birthday it is that I might not be able to go. I text her before the party to tell her that I am not coming. She understands. My flat mates listen to my reasoning and tell me that I am stupid for not going, that I could go and “just sit” the whole time. My flat mates tell me that I should not “give up socializing” just because of the stress and pain.

Scenario: I have just started dating a guy I really, really like. Because of the aforementioned injury and our busy schedules, I am not going to see him for about ten days. I mention this to a flat mate. She tells me I should call him and invite him over. I say that he’s busy that night. She says I should invite him over after his rehearsal. I say that he’ll be tired. She says that if I won’t call him and invite him over, she will. I say no. She threatens to steal my phone and call him. I say no. She asks if my phone is in my room. I say no. She says that she’ll find it anyway and call him. I say no. Something of my anger must get through, because she stops then.

I suppose the main thing that I don’t understand, about any of these scenarios, is why my flat mates - all of whom are between five and eight years younger than I am - do not think that I am capable of making my own decisions about my appearance, my activities, and my relationship. I need to come up with a way to ask that question that doesn’t make it sound like I am attacking them - even if I am.

Is “instant communication” destroying literature?

2009-04-13T13:08:00.001+02:00

There was a column on the Huffington Post today, referring back to a column in the New York Times, about that very question. I went back and read the NYT article and it struck me as kind of whiny. “Poor me, I can’t use my contrived plot device in the cellphone era.” The basic argument is that many moments in great literature are born out of misunderstanding and miscommunication, and these moments can no longer happen in the technologically advanced world that we live in today.

I call foul on this argument. It assumes is that the communication medium is the communication, and that is simply not true. Just because it is easy (well, easier) to get in touch with someone doesn’t mean that you will.

Let’s take the examples that the writers give, one by one. Casablanca – Ilsa could have sent Rick a message (presumably either text or voicemail) explaining why she stood him up at the train station. OK, fine. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Casablanca, so someone will have to remind me. Did Victor Lazlo come to Paris to find her, or did she just find out that he was alive? If he came to Paris to find her, when exactly would she have left Rick the message? “Sorry, honey, glad you’re not dead, but give me just a second to finish texting my new boyfriend.” If she was going to do that, she might as well have just gone to the train station and explained to Rick in person. [Actually, the same argument applies if someone else told her that he’s still alive.]

Misunderstanding in Shakespeare’s comedies could be cleared up with an IM – are you a boy or a girl. Again, if that is a possibility, what is stopping the character from asking straight out? Besides, in most of the cross-dressing comedies that I can think of, it doesn’t even occur to anyone that cross-dressing is happening until it is revealed at the end.

Romeo and Juliet could have texted each other about the faking-the-death plan. That one is a little bit trickier to get around, but just as technology could “solve” the problem, technology could make it continue. Juliet’s mother could have confiscated her phone. Romeo was in exile and “out of service area”. The phone had run out of battery (it’s not like they had any time to charge their devices in the three days they spent together).

And the one that is so clearly not a technological communication issue: Pride and Prejudice. If only Lizzie had been able to get in touch with Mr. Darcy! But to do what, exactly? “Sorry I turned down your proposal…now that I’ve seen your house I’ve changed my mind?” Clearly Pride and Prejudice would never work in the modern world. It’s not a story that has been redone over and over and over again, including 21st century versions at all.(/sarcasm)

I suppose my point is that good literature is character-based, not technology-based. Even in this world of almost instant and constant communication, misunderstandings and miscommunications are going to happen. Phones die, or get stolen, or run out of credit. Calls are dropped as you travel through a tunnel or through an old stone building. You travel out of the country without international service. You don’t have access to a computer to check your email or facebook or other messages. You don’t pick up on the emotional nuances of an email or a text. Voicemails are delayed. But what the story comes down to is character. If the character wants to get in touch with someone, they will find a way, whether it’s 2009 or 1809 or 509. Complaining that today’s technology makes writing good literature impossible just shows a lack of creativity.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/12/weekinreview/12richtel.html?_r=1

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kim-stolz/is-the-internet-ruining-e_b_186041.html

Socialisation

2009-03-20T21:11:00.000+01:00

Social groups are interesting. In one of my favourite books, set at a college, the main character thinks at one point about how you become “friends with people you can't even stand half the time, and can't understand even when you do.” [This may not be the exact quote – I don't have the book in front of me.] I did not understand this in high school, or in college. “Why,” I thought, “would you be friends with people you don't like? Surely friendships are one form of relationship that depends on mutual liking? After all, you can't choose your family and you can't choose your co-workers, but you can choose your friends. Why would you choose to socialize with people you don't like?”

After the last few years, I understand it a little bit more. I still don't have people that I don't like that I would consider friends, but I do have social groups made up of people I don't like. This was especially true in Slovakia. Good Lord, anyone who knew me in 2005-06 knows that this is true. It is one of the reasons I left Tisovec. It is starting to become true again here, although I'm trying to avoid it or counteract it as much as I can.

I love my flatmates, I really do. I am so grateful that I got this group of girls to live with. I know how rare it is to actually get along with and socialize with your flatmates in randomly assigned university accommodation. Some of the most fun times I've had this year have been with my flatmates. My flatmates' social group is also made up of a majority of lovely people – when they're on their own. I do have a few problems with my flatmates' social group – which is, by extension, my social group. For one, it's flipping huge. A lot of them went to the Easter Formal ten days ago, and there were twenty people there. And that was not all of them. The other, more significant problem, is that when they drink, they are loud. And they drink a lot. And until last week, they would come to ours after the bars closed. I cannot think of a time that I was woken up or kept from falling asleep by loud drunk people in our hallway, bedrooms, or kitchen that it was not this particular group. They do always say that they are sorry – well, my flatmates always say that they are sorry – but I have reached the point where that's not good enough any more. “Sorry” involves not just acknowledgement that you've done something wrong, but an implicit agreement to at least TRY not to do it again. They usually realize that they've done something wrong, but the next time they go for a night out the same thing happens. The worst night yet was after the aforementioned Easter Formal, when I was kept awake until nearly four, couldn't hear the music two inches from my head because of the music coming from the absolute other end of the flat, people were literally throwing each other around the hallway, the “attic” was discovered, and three of my flatmates got noise warnings on their room. It was the worst night not just because of these things – although those would probably be enough – but just because it was the last straw for me when it comes to socializing with these people as a big group.

Tonight, those people are all out. It's a joint birthday party for one of my flatmates (the one I have a relatively low tolerance for) and one of the guys in the group, and it is also a celebration of the end of term/beginning of Easter holidays. I am not there. I am okay with this decision. There are lots of reasons why. I've had a very busy few weeks, and I need some time to myself. I'm not feeling completely well, and I have a job to do tomorrow (an actual paid one!). I don't enjoy nights where the goal of going out is to get trashed. But most of all, I don't deal well with huge groups, and I really don't like this particular huge group. Especially right now, when it hasn't been long enough for me to get over my complete and total anger and frustration at the sheer gall of how inconsiderate they are every single time they come over. I can hold grudges for a very long time, and I was very angry. I'm sure that I will get over it in another week or so and be able to enjoy their company again, but tonight is not that night.

2009-03-10T00:16:00.004+01:00

There is a spider in my room, somewhere. It is a medium-sized black spider that scurries quite quickly. First it was on my duvet, then on my actual bed, and then I lost it.

Now, I am the first to admit that I don't deal well with things that have more limbs than I do (aka insects, arachnids, and things of that ilk. I do okay with 4 legs or 2 legs, for the most part. Just not more). Over the years, however, I have learned to control my sheer panic. I would really like to maneuver the spider onto a paper and release it out the window. Unfortunately it takes a bit of time for me to recover from the startle of seeing a scurrying spider, and by the time that my heart rate returns to normal and my brain resumes functioning, the spider has vanished.

My seventh Carmen

2009-02-21T10:33:00.002+01:00

I think my standards are too high. After having seen this show so many times, and listening to the album even more times, it really takes something special to get my attention. This wasn't it. It wasn't a terrible production of Carmen last night at the Theatre Royal. It just wasn't that great either.

I am afraid this post is going to seem really harsh. There were a lot of things that did not work well in this production. But, honestly, it wasn't a bad production. It was just average.

One of the things that was advertised about this production was the amphitheatre staging - creating a bullring on stage, won't that be exciting! - and the flamenco dancing. This is one of the things that could have been so, so cool. It wasn't. Before the Prelude started, a brass choir came out and played something I didn't recognize as bullfighters of all kinds (matadors, picadors, etc.) walked around the stage. They kept doffing their hats to the audience - I'm not sure if they expected us to cheer or not, but we didn't. And that was all for the bullring. The flamenco was a little bit more involved in the production, but still not as much or as well as I expected. The dancer was in the Act One prelude during the Fate theme, and then was kind of the representation of Carmen's death, so during Act Three "Melons, Coupons" and in Act Four when she actually dies (and even after - they added a dirge at the end while Carmen's body is being carried out). This is where I think my high standards are too high. If I'd never seen Carmen before, I probably would have thought the dancing was really cool. From my perspective, though, it didn't go nearly far enough. (The bullring, on the other hand, definitely felt more like a "LOOK WHAT WE CAN DO" than something that added to the performance.)

Now, here's where it's going to get harsh. There were serious, serious problems (that I had) with the performance itself. Some of the singers sang too much to the audience - they didn't feel like part of the scene. It was especially bad for Micaela in Act One and the smugglers in Act Two. They're supposed to be interacting with the other characters, not just telling us what's going on. It's something really shows the youth of this particular group. The acting in general was not great - Jose was probably the best.

The seduction scene(s) in Act One were really good, although Carmen was juuuust this side of tasteless and reminded me a few times of the LCO production (see my previous post about Carmen). She managed to pull it off, though. It did help that this Micaela was so clearly a girl from the village who had a hero-worship crush on Jose, and he so clearly did not love her except as a messenger from his mother. It makes it a lot easier for him to abandon her if he doesn't actually love her.

They made quite a few cuts as well, some of which made me go, "But I thought....what?" I can understand cutting the youth chorus at the changing of the guard. I can't understand cutting out the "L'amour"s in "Votre toast" - it's where Carmen first really catches Escamillo's eye! It's kind of an important moment! - or the ACT TWO AND ACT THREE ENTR'ACTES. SERIOUSLY PEOPLE. ACT THREE HAS ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL FLUTE PARTS IN MUSICAL HISTORY!!!! WHY????!!!!!

Sorry.

Another distracting thing was in "Melons! Coupons!" which is one of my favourite songs in Act Three. Frasquita and Mercedes and Carmen clearly had NO IDEA what "card-reading" meant. They were using playing cards and just tossing them down on their shawls one after another. Do they not listen to the words they are singing? Three cards here, four here. Not fifty-two cards in a pile. And if you're going to use the playing cards, make it consistent. The two or three of diamonds? (A low-numbered red card, at least?) NOT THE DEATH CARD. It's supposed to be serious and ominous and whatever, and I was just going, "Um.....no. This is ridiculous."

But that's not the worst part. The worst part was that the orchestra and the vocalists had the WORST time staying together. I couldn't see the conductor (or the orchestra at all) from where I was sitting so I don't know whether it was a problem with the orchestra or a problem with the singers, but it was definitely a problem. Any time there was a song involving more than a soloist, someone would be off. The worst was, again, in "Melons! Coupons!" when the singers were a full measure ahead of the orchestra. A FULL MEASURE. It was so, so distracting.

It wasn't a terrible performance. It wasn't even the worst performance of Carmen I've ever seen. Actually, no, it probably was, because all the others (except possibly the one here in Nottingham seven or eight years ago that I don't remember any details of) had something spectacular about them. This one was however the most consistently average production that I've ever seen. I'm glad I went - I always enjoy seeing Carmen and it's better to watch opera than just to listen to it - but I wouldn't recommend it, necessarily.

Poetry day! request

2009-02-19T16:09:00.003+01:00

I have learned that I work better to external pressure. If I am the one who sets a goal, it's far too easy to say, "well, it doesn't matter that much." Now, I do want to do more poetry analysis - I like poetry, a lot, and think that it doesn't have to be as obscure and difficult as some people think - but I would like suggestions. If it's just up to me, I'll get distracted and overwhelmed by schoolwork and not seek out anything new. So if you have a favourite poem or fifteen that you want me to read and comment on, leave me a comment or send me an email or post on my facebook wall or catch me on Twitter (yes, I'm on Twitter now) and I'll get to it as soon as I can. Cool? Cool.

An attempt to escape perfectionism

2009-02-19T15:08:00.002+01:00

I can't get away from Wagner. If I end up working at all in twentieth-century literature, I am going to have to know more about Wagner than I do. I feel so unprepared right now for any kind of twentieth-century analysis; I am not familiar with most of the theories or the major critics and I don't really understand what the teacher wants when she says "Engage with the work." I clearly should be a medievalist. We get to work with manuscripts, and everything is so vague that it's a lot easier to fake your way through it. Plus I already am familiar with most of the historical contexts, at least in England. I need to be better with Scotland and Wales, and with English geography, though.

I still hate reading Joyce. There were a few moments in Ulysses that I could get through - Nausicaa was pretty interesting, and the operatic references were intriguing - but mostly I hated it. I have a better appreciation of Dubliners now, so that's good, and I understand what he was trying to do, and I understand why people find him interesting. He just doesn't work for me. I think Stephen Dedalus is a stupid and whiny character, I am not fascinated by the idea of excretion as creation, and I resent writing that is designed to be incomprehensible. I don't care if it's a parody of Latin histories - the sentences still need to make sense. I can deal with it if I have to diagram them out for them to make sense, even if I may not like it. I cannot deal with things that are designed to be incomprehensible. It is not good art. I got three pages into "Oxen of the Sun" before I broke down and almost started crying. It's an interesting concept; I just can't deal with it. Take your moocows and keep them away from me.

One of my flatmates seems to have problems with the concept that people are different than she is. She doesn't seem to understand why someone would choose getting sleep (and not being hungover) over going out and drinking until you can't stand up. She also doesn't seem to understand why someone would own more books than they need for class, or why someone would want to study something that required them to read on a very regular basis. She also doesn't seem to understand the emotional and energy difference between being 20 and being 27. To be fair, most of my other flatmates don't really understand that difference, either, but at least they accept it. We don't get along terribly well.

I have joined the Postgraduate theatre group here. We are going to attempt to put on "Six Characters in Search of an Author", a very interesting play about the nature of reality and theatre, etc. There were 25 people at the first meeting, ten at the second, and six at auditions. I'm wondering how well this is going to work.

I recently went on a DVD-buying binge, sparked by massive sales at Amazon and a store in town that's going out of business. I need to remember that just because I got more money out of my loan this term doesn't mean that I need to spend all the money. It is nice for my materialistic, acquisitive nature to have a lot of my favourite movies on hand, though.

My academic dilemmas

2008-11-24T17:25:00.002+01:00

The course that I'm on is called "English Studies" and combines modern literature and medieval literature. This is perfect for me right now, since I love both of them and don't want to be forced to choose between them. However, eventually I'm going to have to come up with a dissertation. How do I combine my love of the medieval with my love of late Victorianism/Edwardianism/early modernism?

Once I have that figured out, it's time to plan "my future" (something I'm working on now, actually). Do I want a PhD? Do I want to wait? Do I want to get teaching qualifications? Part of me wants to get a PhD, partially for the prestige, partially for the family expectation (higher education is important to both my parents; my father has a PhD...). And part of me thinks "But what would I do it on? What would my research proposal be?" Because, like my issue with my MA dissertation, how do I combine my two loves?

I am such a dilettante, really. I'm interested in everything - especially literary things. I was looking today at editions of one of the Robin Hood manuscripts, and the editors were discussing in the footnotes how they chose certain readings by looking at the original manuscript under UV light, and I thought, "That is so cool! I want to do that!" And whenever I'm immersed in the Forster stuff, I think "I could be a Forster expert!" And whenever I talk to, say, Kelly about Victorian lit, I think "How interesting this stuff is!" And talking to Rachel about Old English makes me wish I knew more about things like the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and ashes and thorns and runes and stuff. And reading about various Shakespearean textual theories is fascinating. And I think the point is made.

I lack focus. This is what is going to kill me this year. I am so easily distracted - and not necessarily from non-academic stuff - that certain other things (like class preparation) don't get done the way they should. In being interested in everything, I focus on and really learn about nothing. I don't want to limit myself, but that causes a paralysis of choice.

2008-11-20T15:59:00.001+01:00

Two emotional/philosophical things have been on my mind lately. I am putting them in one entry because they are sort of connected.

First is the idea of living in the moment. People keep saying that you should “live in the moment” and enjoy things as they happen without thinking too much of what the future holds. The idea is that if you're always looking ahead, you miss out on the things that are happening now.

The problem is that our culture is not set up to live in the moment. Take my current situation. I am a graduate student on a one-year master's program, studying something that I love in a city that I love. And the first thing that my course convener said to me when I arrived? “Have you thought about what you're doing next?” This was before I had even officially chosen what classes I was going to take this year. The number one question that I get is “what are you going to do next?” This beats even “are you enjoying it” and “what are you studying” for frequency of questions that I get asked.

While I understand that it is necessary to look to the future, and that certain paths require a lot of advance planning, it is incredibly frustrating to me. I just got here! I am not ready to think about leaving yet! Can't I just enjoy my year here without worrying about what it's going to lead to? Part of the reason I chose this program was in the hopes that it will give me more clarity about what I want to do with my life – particularly what academic area I want to focus on. However, that can't happen until I actually experience this year. And, actually, the way that part of the course is organized, it won't happen until next semester, when I am taking more literature classes. I want to experience this year without the question of “what's next” hanging over my head. The question is not going to go away – even now it is always in the back of my mind – but I need it to stay in the back of my mind and not be constantly in the forefront.

The other thing, which is connected because it occasionally keeps me from fully experiencing this year, is looking to the past. I went back to Slovakia last week, which gave me a sense of closure about my experience there. However, the second-most common question I got (after “what's next for you”) was “when are you coming back?” The thing is, I'm not. If I can't find a job/place for me here in the UK, I will consider going back to Slovakia and teaching English at one of the universities or something similar. But I do not think that I will go back to the ELCA program and teach at one of the high schools. I don't even think that I will go back independently and teach at one of the high schools. I've done it. It's over.

I also have a friend in Slovakia – I love her dearly – who is constantly trying to improve her English by taking tests. Which she then sends to me to correct for her. And sometimes she sends me her students' work to correct. And it's really starting to bother me, because the only time she talks to me is when she has things she wants me to do. And the things she wants me to do are either things she should be doing herself, or things that I am not in a mental place to do anymore.

It's not that I don't love Slovakia – I do, and I will always treasure my time there and my friends there. But that is not my life right now. I need to focus on my life here and my experience here, and not feel constantly dragged back to what I was doing before.

It should not be this hard to be able to focus on this year and what is happening now. I hate that both the past and the future are pulling me away from what should be a good, meaningful experience.

Poetry day! D.H. Lawrence

2008-10-23T11:33:00.002+02:00

A few days ago, in one of my classes, we went to the archives and looked at some of the stuff from the Lawrence collection. The archivist had brought out for us a kind of series of the development of this one poem, from the early notebooks to the final (in his lifetime) published version. There are essentially three versions of this poem: the first is called "Last Words to Muriel" and the final two are "Last Words to Miriam." It is an overwhelmingly sexual poem, so if you're uncomfortable with me talking about sex, stop reading now. You have been warned.

The way I read it, the poem tells the story of the speaker's first time with Muriel/Miriam, who is a virgin. It does not go well, and the speaker feels...bad about it? At least, that's the impression I get from the first two versions. Some of it I genuinely don't understand - some of it may be punctuation errors - but I can't quite parse it. However, some of it I do get, and it's kind of disturbing. There's a distinct change in perspective between the first two versions and the last, and it bothers me.

In the first two versions, the speaker is the seducer. He recognizes his role in the events, acknowledges it, and accepts it. It is a little bit Pygmalion-esque, to be sure [Mine was the love of the sun for a flower / He creates with his shine. / I was diligent to explore you / Blossom you stalk by stalk] but he's the speaker, he's allowed to be a little bit selfish. At least he's consistent with it: he is definitely the initiator in this version.

But then the last version turns all that around. Instead of the speaker being the sun, now she is. [Mine was the love of a growing flower / For the sunshine. / You had the power to explore me, / Blossom me stalk by stalk] Miriam is now the seducer, the one with the power and control. The poor innocent poet is as helpless as a flower responding to the sunshine.

This makes the next bit a little bit odd:

You yielded, we threw the last cast,
And it was no good.

You only endured, and it broke
My craftsman's nerve.

Question 1: If she is the seducer, why is she the one yielding? Why is she only enduring? If she's the seducer, isn't this what she wants? Isn't she the one taking charge? Do I have the definition of seducer wrong?
Question 2: If she is the seducer and he is just a flower responding to the sunshine, where did he develop this craftsman's nerve? And isn't that a little bit overconfident in his abilities? (As we shall see further on in the poem...)

And then, the word that is the bane of my existence. Granted, I am overly sensitive to this word because of past experiences. But be that as it may, this is where he completely loses my sympathy:

No flesh responded to my stroke;
So I failed to give you the last
Fine torture you did deserve.

"So" is a causal conjunction. It signals a cause-effect relationship between the clauses that it is joining. This happened, so that happened. This caused that. There is no other reading when you use "so." If you want to imply mutual fault, use "and." By using "so," the speaker is blatantly blaming the girl's unresponsiveness for his failure. First he blames her for seducing him, then he implies that he has to do all the work, and then he blames her for his failure.

Don't use the word "so". I'm just saying.

The next-to-last stanza is also troubling to me.

Since the fire has failed in me,
What man will stoop in your flesh to plough
The shrieking cross?

Let's ignore the vulgarity of "to plough the shrieking cross" and focus instead on the insufferable smugness of the opening clause. It reads to me like "who's going to want you now?" Like he's the best lover she could ever hope for, so if he failed no one else even has a chance. (That is a correct use of the word "so.") That's right, ladies, what Lawrence is telling you here is that, if your first time doesn't go well, you are doomed to a life of pain and celibacy. You couldn't come with him, so you will never have sex again. And, by the way, it's your fault, you frigid seductress.

I'm so disappointed in Lawrence with this poem. I stick up for him a lot - of the "big three" of the modernists (Joyce and Woolf being the others) I like him the best, and I will defend Lady Chatterley's Lover to anyone, but the third version of this poem seems so misogynistic and wrong - worse even than Sons and Lovers, which also disturbed me. I definitely liked the second version of it better. Someone in class commented on the move to "aesthetic perfection" with this poem, implying that the third version is more beautiful than the first two, but for me, if it doesn't have emotional consistency as well, then it fails. And the third version just doesn't have emotional consistency. Fail, Lawrence.

American football

2008-10-14T13:35:00.000+02:00

Football is one of my joys in life. I have a lot of friends, mostly back in the States, who do not understand football and who especially do not understand the joy I get out of football. They see it as a vulgar game, incomprehensible, filled with big guys running into each other. And they're right – football, American football, can be incomprehensible, filled with big guys running into each other and stupid twenty-somethings running off their mouths. But to me, football is so much more than that.

I try to describe football to people as a chess game. Each play is like a mini chess game. The analogy doesn't really hold up that well, but bear with me. Each piece on the board – each player – can move in a certain way, and not in others. The offensive linemen can only go so far, the defensive backs can only go certain places. Each player has their role and if they overstep that role, they are penalized. The movement of the players appears chaotic and random, but looked at closely (and done well) it's very choreographed and well-organized.

Football is also about emotion for me. It's about spending every Friday and Saturday dressed in red, watching the Tanagers, the 'Yotes, or the Huskers (on TV). It's about celebrating when my brother makes a beautiful pass that's beautifully caught in the end zone. (And then about hearing his story about having to go and celebrate in the end zone by himself....) It's about the Domino's pizza arriving before Peter did on a Monday night. It's about the history of the game – recognizing the names of the announcers and the coaches because you watched them play, or because Dad tells stories about watching them play. It's about seeing former players at Homecoming games – or non-Homecoming games – and reminiscing. It's the smell of home-baked cookies on Sunday afternoon and the sight of the boys filling up our kitchen and living room eating them all before taking the remnants home to their roommates.

I miss football.

Being at home

2008-10-11T15:05:00.000+02:00

I have been thinking about writing a book based on my experiences in Slovakia, and an exploration of what makes a place “home”. There are a lot of trite things written about it, most notably the phrase “home is where the heart is” but I think there's more to it than that. In my book, I'm going to attempt to trace the three – maybe four – different threads that can make you feel at home.

The first thing is being around people that you enjoy. This doesn't have to be family, per se; in fact, for many people I know, being around their family is a hindrance to happiness. But if you have a good social group, things are a lot easier. I have been in a situation where every other aspect of “home” is right, but I don't have a good social group. It killed the place for me, to the point where I'm still not comfortable going back.

The second thing is being in a place that you enjoy. Some people are at their best in cities with good shopping; others in a place with a lot of history; others in smaller towns where they can get to know their neighbors. However, if you're in a place where you can't even stand leaving your house, you're probably in the wrong place.

The third thing is doing something that you enjoy. If you have a job that you loathe, you're not going to enjoy your life. If you have a job that you love, you will. It maybe shouldn't be quite that simple, but it is.

The fourth thing, and the one that probably isn't as important as the others – after all, I have never had it and yet I have been at home in several places – is the presence of love. It probably plays in to the first thing – being around people you enjoy – but it deserves a separate point anyway. It is sort of like the crowning jewel of home – being in a happy, stable relationship on top of everything else will make a place perfect.

I have been very lucky in my life, to have had homes many different places. I have had four different places where I have lived that I have had the first three points. I have lived with people I liked, in a place that I liked, doing things that I liked. I'm doing it again now, in fact. But I have found that if I'm missing any one of those three parts, I'm not at home.

2008-10-07T11:02:00.003+02:00

Now that I'm back in an academic frame of mind, I've got posts percolating about canonicity, manuscript transmission, Pentecost and worship styles, what it means to be "home," and philosophical critiques of reason. I may also do some more poetry days. However, schoolwork comes first, my social life comes second, and this blog is third.

Poetry day!

2008-08-09T05:25:00.001+02:00

I don’t read enough poetry. I should read more. Maybe I'll make poetry day a regular thing.

I love the war poets. I am fascinated by almost everything that has to do with World War I - I think it has something to do with the fact that Rilla of Ingleside is one of my favorite books ever. World War I is a perfect example of a political war, and one that would never happen in today’s world of near-instant communication and news. At the start of the war, there was still a huge sense of patriotism, of duty, and of “we don’t need to know why - we just need to be told to go.” English soldiers (I don’t know that much about other countries) were idealistic, especially the young, often bored, independently wealthy officers. And then they actually started fighting and realized that the “glory of war” was not so glorious. The boys started coming back with shell-shock, which no one really knew how to deal with (today it would probably be diagnosed as PTSD of some kind, not that we fully understand that either). A lot of really excellent poetry was written during World War I, much of it about the reality of fighting in the trenches and the reality of coming home afterwards. (Although not all of the poets did come home afterwards.)

The poets that I had to teach, the ones that are sometimes considered “canon” as war poets*, are Rupert Brooke, Wilfred Owen, Siegfried Sassoon, and Isaac Rosenberg. This poem is by Siegfried Sassoon, from the book “Counter-Attack and Other Poems,” published in 1918. I like it because of the depressing sarcasm that permeates the whole thing. I can really hear both the voice of the people - I usually picture middle-aged women with hats and high-pitched voices - and the soldier, mocking them and getting angrier and sadder as the poem goes on.

Does It Matter?

Does it matter? -losing your legs?
For people will always be kind,
And you need not show that you mind
When others come in after hunting
To gobble their muffins and eggs.

Does it matter? -losing your sight?
There’s such splendid work for the blind;
And people will always be kind,
As you sit on the terrace remembering
And turning your face to the light.

Do they matter? -those dreams in the pit?
You can drink and forget and be glad,
And people won’t say that you’re mad;
For they know that you’ve fought for your country,
And no one will worry a bit.

-by Siegfried Sassoon.

*This is not to imply that they are the only war poets or that they are the only ones that are worth reading.

2008-08-08T03:56:00.000+02:00

How long does it take for history to become meaningful? There are several things right now that have made me think about this question. First, my 5-year college reunion is this fall. Second, my 10-year high school reunion is next summer. And third, I just got back from an “alumni choir” event that featured alums from the 1940s through the end of the century.

The alumni choir event was awesome (again. This is the second year it’s happened, and that I’ve attended even though I wasn’t a singer with them, but that’s something for the livejournal rather than this blog) but there was a dearth of singers from the last twenty years. Some of this is probably due to lack of funds or time spent establishing family and careers. But some of it is quite possibly due to the lack of “historical” meaning that my generation has for its college time.

Simply speaking, we’re not old enough yet. When we - or at least, when I - go back to campus, it feels like I’m a student again. I emotionally expect things to be like they were when I was a student there. I want to relive the time when I was a student there, not just remember it. And when I can’t, when things are different, it hurts. It feels almost like a betrayal. Intellectually, I know that nothing is constant, that things always change, and that most of the changes are incredibly good. Emotionally, I have a hard time accepting it. I don’t have the distance yet to remember my college days without wanting to relive them.

I think I do with high school, though, or at least I’m getting there. When I go back to my high school (as I did at the beginning of July for community theatre), I no longer feel as much need to wander the halls and reminisce. When I see friends from high school, I don’t feel as much pressure of memory as I still do with my college friends. I don’t think I’m quite there yet, but I’m a lot closer.

I’m hoping that I’ll be able to handle it this fall - I’ll be back in a town that I adore, but I’ll be there without the people who were with me before and for a slightly different reason than before. I’m sure that the first few weeks, I’ll be trying to relive and recreate my experience of six/seven years ago. With familiarity and routine, I’m hoping that will fade.

Taking a break

2008-06-25T18:39:00.003+02:00

I am not even going to think about things other than packing and farewells for the next week or so. I am reading Bleak House (and loving it) and I just finished a collection of Roald Dahl's short stories for adults (I didn't know he had a lot of stuff for adults) and I am looking forward to The Good Soldier Svejk - but I won't even attempt to talk about them until after I am back in the US. In a week.

The Flanders Panel

2008-06-14T12:43:00.000+02:00

I just finished reading The Flanders Panel by Arturo Perez-Reverte. It was pretty good, right up until the end. It wasn’t exceptional, and if I’d had anything waiting that I was anxious to read, I doubt I would have finished it, but I did enjoy it – right up to the end.

See, here’s the thing. You can’t do something “for” somebody when the somebody DOESN’T WANT YOU TO DO IT. And most of the time, when someone uses the excuse “I did it for you!” they’ve done something either illegal or really, really ill-advised that they knew (or at least suspected) you wouldn’t like. In the book, it’s killing people. In real life, it’s often breaking up with someone else, or moving, or something slightly less extreme but still life-changing.

Rule of thumb: unless the person says the words “do this for me,” you are not doing it “for” them. You may do it in the hopes that the person will like it, but you are not doing it “for” them.

Every time I have had someone tell me that they’ve done something “for” me, it has been something that I don’t want. Earrings, plans, breaking up with their girlfriend….it’s become kind of a peeve of mine, which is why I think I hated the ending of The Flanders Panel so much. Granted, killing people is a little bit more extreme than any of my stuff, but still – if the person doesn’t want you to do it, you are not doing it for them. You are doing it for yourself. Just admit it already.

The excuse wasn’t the only bad thing about the ending of the book, though – it kind of didn’t really make sense at all. But it’s the part that bugged me the most about it.

The Pilgrim's Regress

2008-06-09T12:40:00.002+02:00

After talking about how much I like C.S. Lewis, I have to confess that I am giving up on The Pilgrim's Regress. It was the first book he wrote after his conversion, and it's a variation of The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan.

I am about halfway through the book now, and it's losing me. There are several different reasons for this:

First, Bunyan's The Pilgrim's Progress used easily recongnizable and definable concepts as allegorical characters: people like Timorous (fear), Piety, Christian (the main character), and Evangelist. In order to understand the characters of The Pilgrim's Progress, all you really need is a dictionary. Lewis, however, is using philosophical movements. These are almost incomprehensible if you haven't studied them. You can look them up in a dictionary or encyclopedia, of course, but without a philosophical background, you (I) may not understand their references.

Second, Lewis sometimes throws in Greek, Latin, or other linguistic quotations. These are neither translated or attributed. I have studied Greek and Latin; I could figure them out if I worked at it. But it's very distracting. And if it's distracting for me, when I know the languages, what must it be like for people who don't?

Third, the continual references to the dream framework make it too easy to dismiss the points that Lewis is trying to make. If you can say, "Oh, but it was just a dream," it almost invalidates the reality of the situation. Dreams are supposed to be unreal and illogical; the allegory that I think Lewis is trying to convey is not.

Basically, I'm just too ~~stupid~~ ignorant to read this book right now. It's more work to understand the layers than I'm willing to put in, and it's not interesting enough on a story level to make it worth reading without that deeper understanding.

It's really too bad, though, because it's the type of book I think I would really enjoy if I understood it better. Maybe I'll keep my eyes out for an annotated version or see if someday I can take a class on Lewis that explains it better. But right now, I'm giving up and moving on to The Other Boleyn Girl.

Humility and Inferiority

2008-06-08T21:29:00.000+02:00

I finally read The Screwtape Letters a few months ago. I really did enjoy it – overall I really like C.S. Lewis. I trust him as a theologian, because he came to Christianity as a skeptic. He doesn’t come from the perspective of “I’m right because I’m right and now here are things that back me up.” He comes from the perspective of “I’m right because I found these things that convinced me that I had been wrong.”

Screwtape is interesting because it’s written from the point of view of a devil, a tempter. Mostly Screwtape points out all the ways that modern society and modern ways of thinking are ungodly. Like with the other Lewis books I’ve read, I understand his point on pretty much all of it, and I agree with let’s say 90% of it.

The one bit of Screwtape that got me thinking, more than any other, was the part about the illusion of equality. He says that when someone says “I’m as good as you,” that person is coming from a sense of inferiority. You never tell someone whom you feel is inferior that you are as good as they are, unless you are being patronizing and condescending.

My problem with this comes not from the statement itself – I do agree that when someone says “I am as good as you are” they are usually speaking from a sense of inferiority – but from the implication that trying to overcome a sense of inferiority is an ungodly thing.

I think that Lewis is probably trying to make a point about the lack of humility in today’s society, which is probably a valid point. But I think that there is a difference between feeling humble and feeling inferior.

Humility is internal. If it is imposed by anyone/anything, it is imposed by God. Humility says “I am not the best at this” but humility also allows you to say “I will try.” Inferiority, on the other hand, is imposed externally – by individuals or by society. Inferiority says “You can’t do this” and inferiority says “Why should you even try?” Humility is not a bad thing. False humility is, but that’s a different discussion. Inferiority, especially inferiority based on unchangeable factors like gender/race or subjective factors like beauty, is a bad thing and should be fought against wherever it is found.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

2008-05-25T22:58:00.002+02:00

Thursday afternoon I saw Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. If you don’t want to know about it, STOP READING NOW.

Seriously. I’m going to talk about the movie in moderate detail. Not great detail because I’ve only seen it once so far, but I don’t want to spoil it for anyone who wants to be surprised.

So if you’re still reading at this point, I can only assume that you want to know about the movie.

Here goes.

It’s definitely better than Temple of Doom. Of course, I haven’t watched Temple of Doom in several years, because it annoys me so greatly and I have to watch much of it on mute so that I can enjoy ogling Harrison Ford without having to hear Kate Capshaw. But Crystal Skull was better than I remember Temple of Doom being.

However, it was not as good as either Raiders or Last Crusade. Those are two very different movies, I’ll admit, that bear very little resemblance to each other besides having several of the same characters and the same basic premise. Raiders is much more action/shoot-em-up while Last Crusade is more comic and almost slapstick. Raiders is quite serious; Last Crusade is much, much lighter.

The thing that Raiders and Last Crusade do have in common that Temple of Doom and Crystal Skull don’t is a Judeo-Christian quest. I’m not trying to be racist or anything like that, and I sincerely apologize if I come across that way. I don’t think the quests in Raiders and Last Crusade are the only reason that they are better movies than Temple of Doom and Crystal Skull, but I do think they are a part of it, for two reasons. First, the predominant culture in the US/UK has a Judeo-Christian background, so the quests are already at least slightly familiar to at least some of the movie-going audience. Second, setting the quests in the context of the predominant culture limits the stereotyping that unfortunately affects both Temple of Doom and Crystal Skull. For example, Temple of Doom is set in India and the things that people remember (other than the annoyingness of Kate Capshaw and the kid who plays Short Round)? Eating monkey brains and pulling out people’s hearts. And in Crystal Skull, technically it takes place in South America, and has to do with ancient Mesoamerican culture. Apart from pictographs, the only representations of that culture are loincloth-clad people who blend in with the wall, move like monkeys, and shoot poison darts.

Crystal Skull is not a bad movie, though. There are a few inside jokes and references, but not so many that it overwhelms the story. Of course, I probably wouldn’t have noticed, since I am a long-time Indy fan. Karen Allen is more than welcome – she’s always been my favourite of the Indy girls. Not that there’s a lot of competition: Kate Capshaw is, as previously stated, annoying, and Alison Doody’s character turned out to be evil. But Karen Allen as Marion Ravenwood is more of a partner – she shrieks, sure, but she also attempts to think and fight her way out of situations by herself. And I appreciate the tributes to Denholm Elliott (who played Marcus Brody – he gets referenced and a statue) and Sean Connery (who turned down the film because he’s retired; get over it already online reviewers).

However, it’s not a great movie. Normally I like Cate Blanchett, but she is so ridiculous in this. Her obvious wig and totally fake accent do not help things. And there are oh-so-many “Yeah right” or “You’ve got to be kidding me” moments ranging from Shia LeBeouf sliding his motorcycle along a library floor and getting out from under it without so much as a limp to Ray Winstone’s character’s true allegiances, whatever they might be, to, well, the whole crystal skull reveal. (Aliens? Really? Whose “treasure is knowledge”? Um…..okay.)

They also drop so many things. Like I said, it’s supposed to be based around this Mesoamerican culture, but the poison-dart-blowing representatives of that culture only show up, like three times, never speak, and even though there’s this myth about the crystal skull being guarded by the living dead or something like that, they’re never explained. And, the thing that distracted me the most, during the big chase scene where the evil Soviets are chasing Our Heroes, Marion just…..disappears. She’s driving one of the jungle tanks and I guess she falls behind or something, but she’s off-screen so long that I wondered if they’d forgotten that she was in that scene, or if I’d missed the part where she gets kicked out of the car.

But I liked it, and I would go see it again. I still love Harrison Ford, I enjoy Karen Allen and the relationship between Marion and Indy, and I have a good time watching the fight scenes and archaeology (yeah right) stuff. Everything else, I can ignore.

Fairy Tales

2008-05-18T19:11:00.001+02:00

How do you define a fairy tale? The Webster’s Dictionary I have defines a fairy tale as either a story about fairies or an unbelievable/unreal story. The Macmillan Student’s Dictionary adds “a traditional children’s story in which magical things happen.”

So how do you define a fairy tale? My students tend to define it as any work of fiction, especially if it has been made into a movie or, especially, a cartoon. Common answers when I ask about their favourite fairy tales are “Tom and Jerry” and “Harry Potter.” When I ask about Slovak fairy tales, I get romance novelists and whatever they’re studying in literature class.

Some people use Disney movies as the go-to example of fairy tales, and many Disney movies are fairy tales. But I don’t think they all are, and the problem that I run into is that my students – not having the cultural brainwashing of the difference between movie studios – go from “Cinderella, Snow White, and Sleeping Beauty are fairy tales” to “Cartoon movies are fairy tales” to “Anything animated is a fairy tale.” Hence Tom and Jerry.

But where is the line? Why is Sleeping Beauty, with its fairy godmothers, a fairy tale but Mulan, with the talking dragon, not? Would you call Aladdin a fairy tale? Or The Lion King? Is Shrek a fairy tale? What about something like The Princess Diaries?

Personally I think of a fairy tale as a story, primarily but not exclusively for children, that has a lesson or moral, a happy ending or at least something that can be spun into a happy ending, and an unreal or magical element. Cinderella is a fairy tale. Harry Potter can be argued to be a fairy tale. Tom and Jerry – I don’t think so.

In my view of fairy tales, there are two reasons that Sleeping Beauty is a fairy tale and Mulan is not. First, Mulan is based on a (probably) true story and real events in a way that Sleeping Beauty is not. Second, the events of Mulan are not reliant on the magic element, whereas the story of Sleeping Beauty is completely dependent on unreal elements. Yes, Mulan has a talking dragon, but Mushu does not either start or resolve the plot. It is Mulan’s actions and Mulan’s ingenuity that defeat the Huns. Sleeping Beauty, on the other hand, doesn’t exist without magic. The main conflict and its resolution are both magically based.

Where I run into problems is with Harry Potter. I think I’m going to have to say that Harry Potter is not a fairy tale, at least not in the traditional sense. You can argue that it is, but right now I’m arguing that it’s not. For one thing, it’s complex. It’s an epic fantasy, not as simple as the fairy tales. For another thing, while there is magic, in Harry Potter, the magic is an integral part of the world. It’s not extra or special; it’s a talent like being a musician is a talent or athleticism is a talent. It’s a part of the construct, not a part of the plot. I will accept it when students name Harry Potter as their favourite fairy tale, but personally, I don’t think it is.

(Do we even need to discuss why Tom and Jerry is not a fairy tale? I didn’t think so.)

How I Met Your Mother

2008-05-11T02:30:00.002+02:00

I have become addicted to the show "How I Met Your Mother." I blame iTunes. They had the "Sandcastles in the Sand" video for free. I also blame MySpace for having the first Robin Sparkles episode for free. Oh, who am I kidding. I'm a TV junkie.

But just because I live my life through popular entertainment doesn't mean that it's not a good show. It's a great show. In case you haven't heard of it, it's theoretically one character telling his kids how he met their mother - the very long version. It's just finishing the third season on CBS and, thanks to the magic of online viewing, I have now seen every episode.

There are two writing things that really make this show impressive for me. First is the realism. Characters tell jokes, but they're the types of jokes that normal people tell and they acknowledge that they're making jokes, or at least trying to. And there are conversations that aren't particularly jokey or witty, but are very real: either television real where they explicitly lay out their emotions, or real-real like when they get excited about going to Red Lobster or whatever. When I watch the show, I can see my own friends in these characters.

The other thing that impresses me is the continuity. It's an ongoing story in a way that shows like Friends were not. And it's the little moments, the little character things, that make it special. For example, there's a third season episode where everyone's complaining about everyone else's annoying habits. And someone mentions Marshall's habit of singing whatever he's doing. And in the first season, there's a scene where Marshall is doing just that - sing-narrating what he's doing. It's the little things like that which make the show wonderful. [Side-note: should it be which there? I was reading something about the difference between that and which the other day and now I'm all paranoid and doubting.]

The actors are good, too. Neil Patrick Harris has this deliciously twisted morality; Alyson Hannigan is quirky (although she's been getting on my nerves a bit in the third season). But I totally adore Josh Radnor as Ted. He looks like John Cusack, acts a little bit like early Zach Braff, and I just want to be his friend.

There are some actors who are so gorgeous and/or talented that you know if you ever met them you would be so completely starstruck that you wouldn't even be able to breathe. Stars that don't seem real. George Clooney, Brad Pitt, etc., fall into this category. But Josh Radnor's Ted and my other TV crush, John Krasinski as Jim Halpert, seem like guys who would actually talk to you. Guys you could be friends with. Guys you would WANT to be friends with. Guys that you wouldn't be intimidated to fall in love with. Not that you necessarily WOULD fall in love with them (although if either one of them wants to give me a call, I'm on the next plane to LA) but guys that you could hang out with without feeling inferior.

I'm really hoping that "How I Met Your Mother" comes back for another season. It's not even that I want Ted to meet "the mother" (even though that's the purpose of the show) but because it's so much fun to hang out with these characters.

Teaching South Africa

2008-04-30T19:02:00.003+02:00

One of the English-speaking countries that we teach our students about is South Africa. I don't dislike teaching South Africa - it's an interesting country - but sometimes I wonder if it's a good idea.

First, South Africa has something like eleven official languages of which English is only one, and not even the most common native language. It is the most common in government and media (according to Wikipedia), but it's not the most common language in the country. Also, much of the history and heritage of whites is Dutch rather than English.

Second, most of the information we have and most of the information that we can use focus on apartheid. Apartheid hasn't been an official part of government since 1994. I worry that, because we end up focusing so much on apartheid, we give students the impression and idea that this is still a concern, or that it's the main thing about South Africa.

Third, by focusing on South Africa, we neglect other English-speaking countries, particularly Ireland. Most of the Realia resources that are now being published have Ireland instead of South Africa, making it less likely that our students will need the South Africa information. Also, this makes it even harder for us to break away from the apartheid emphasis that our current resources keep us almost trapped into.

I agree that South Africa and apartheid should not be ignored, just like the Civil War and slavery should not be ignored. But when does remembering the past and maintaining awareness turn into keeping grudges alive?

Generation gaps

2008-04-28T19:38:00.002+02:00

The latest issue of The Lutheran has a cover story about baby boomers. (It also has the really, really awesome Luther College ad on page 31. Go Norse!) Now, I have nothing against baby boomers. My parents are baby boomers. They are one of the best-defined generations in the US. I do, however, have a problem with one of the sentences in the article. It reads "These men and women are in a 20-year stretch of life that is filled with transitions."

I do not dispute the accuracy of that statement. I do, however, dispute the implication that this is a new, strange experience unique to the baby boomer generation. Because, honestly, what stretch of life does not have transitions? My generation is in a stretch of life that is filled with transitions/ We are graduating from college and/or graduate school, starting careers, careers, dating and/or getting married, having children, living on our own for the first time, living with someone outside our family for the first time, moving, buying houses, setting up our lives. People in their 30s and 40s are establishing their careers, raising familis - and I defy anyone to say that life with children is not full of transitions - and dealing with any number of physical, mental, and social changes. Not to mention the not-recession that the US is in right now - do you think it's easy fighting for a job at the age of 30/40-something? Children's lives are in a perpetual state of transition. Nearly every day something changes - they just aren't as aware of it until they look back when they're older. And those that are left in my grandfather's generation are dealing with more rapid physical and/or mental changes, the probability of no longer being able to live without assistance, and transitions in their societal role. There is no type of life where you can just sit back and expect things to remain constant. And as someone who is not of the baby boomer generation and yet is experiencing major life changes, I resent the implication that the baby boomers are unique in their transitional status.

I also am not entirely happy with the thought that these transitions are new to the baby boomer generation. Did my grandparents' generation not have to deal with at least some of these same transitions? I bet they did.

Brokenness

2008-04-27T16:29:00.005+02:00

It has been a rough few weeks for me, emotionally. I have been in a long (for me) spell of depression - it's been nearly a month and a half, which isn't long for depression but is long for me, and it's only just starting to fade - spurred on by my natural tendencies, the apparent collapse of any sort of relationship with Martin (even friendship, it feels like), stress, Sara's visit, and Megan's rapid decline and death. I feel emotionally broken. (And quite a bit of it is due to the Martin situation. Katie said once that she admired the way I kept falling in love and kept hoping to fall in love, even after Corey, and CD, and Lloyd, and Peter, and everyone in between. Right now I no longer think that's even true. I think that my hope that I will have that kind of love is dead. See also my post on The Office.) Anyway, I feel emotionally broken in a way that I haven't for a while. And I was thinking about it on my walk to the store a few days ago, and how the typical prayer for "brokenness" is "Lord, I am broken; help make me whole." And I do understand the purpose, both emotionally and theologically, of that. But I can't help thinking that it's a little bit unrealistic and sets people up for further disappointment. Because the world is broken and has been since the fall of Adam and Eve. It will not be made whole again until the second coming of Christ. Why should an individual, or people in general, expect anything different or better? We are broken by sin from birth and will not be made whole until we are reunited with God in heaven. So to my mind right now, a better prayer would be "Lord, I am broken; help me to accept my brokenness." Or "temper my brokenness." Or something like that. And if you must have something about wholeness, "lead me on the path to wholeness." But saying "Lord, make me whole" is kind of like going to a parent and saying "Fix it!" Sometimes things can't be fixed with the time and materials available. It is unreasonable to expect wholeness in a broken world. What we can expect, though, and as for, is acknowledgment and acceptance of our brokenness; soothing of our rough edges so that we don't cause further harm to ourselves or others; and perhaps the opportunity to be a puzzle piece in the body of Christ (and how's that for a mixed metaphor?) - something that requires us to be incomplete in ourselves but which adds to the wholeness of God.

I just feel that asking to be made whole provides (some) people with unrealistic expectations - that when their lives are not instantly better in the way that they want, they will give up hope. I also think that it is unreasonable to expect wholeness (not healing, but wholeness) in a broken world. Nothing is impossible with God - but in our linear time frame, our understanding of it is.

Lord, I am broken. Help me to accept and heal my brokenness.