A couple of days, I joined a NaBloPoMo group for people who were running out of blogging topics. I asked the group for help, thinking that people would mostly commiserate. Everyone had really, really good suggestions instead! I went back tonight, to re-read all the really, really good suggestions. And they sparked nothing in my brain for some reason. It wasn't them, it was me. I could tell they were good ideas but didn't know where to go from them.
So getting tagged for this random meme by http://www.fuenf-neun.com/ was manna from heaven today. This is what you've gotta do, if you're tagged:
Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog.
Share 7 random and or weird things about yourself.
Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
OK, so seven random things:
1. I can both roll and fold my tongue. Tongue-folding (the long way) is relatively common. Tongue-rolling (rolling back towards the throat from the tip) is rare.
2. My favorite cocoa is Ghirardelli Chocolate Mocha.
3. I hate onions, except in the context of French Onion Soup.
4. Within the past year and a half, I conquered my fear of dogs. I used to be terrified of them, although I always liked them in theory. Now, I pet them all the time. I didn't freak out when I met a Lab puppy who wanted to chew on my coat sleeve, and I've even driven some white German Shepherds on transport.
5. One summer, I read the last few chapters of Edith Wharton's The House of Mirth in the cafe at her home, The Mount, for my birthday.
6. I make my own gretting cards out of those puffy scrapbooking stickers for my friends and family on their birthdays.
7. I was at the WTO protests in Seattle in 1999.
Hmmm....now...who to tag??? I know, I know, I know!
1. Momof3gr8kids
2. Stella Devine
3. Emma
And...that's all I have time for before mindight. Anyone else out there in bloggerland, if you read this...uh...you are tagged too, if you want to be!
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Friday, November 16, 2007
A Visit to Central
Today, I had the occasion to go to the Central Library. Its website boasts that it was voted "Best Library Branch in the Region", which I think is a little unfair. It's like Beyonce entering a high school talent show, for crying out loud. Central has about as much floor space as an average Target, and features exhibits of Mark Twain's original manuscripts, rare book exhibits, a massive local history room, a cafe, a used bookstore, a huge number of DVDs and CDs and more computer terminals than you can shake a stick at. They have self-checkout, and when you use it, you get a Wendy's coupon. They have a security guard at the door. There are three levels in there, and two entrances. It's the home of all the bookmobiles in the county. They get all the new books first and have such a large collection that most of it isn't even out: you have to make a special request.
Naturally, I tend to go a little nuts in a place like that. Not just because a little part of me worries that one day they'll realize what an incredible luxury libraries are -- and all for free -- and start charging huge amounts (beyond my late fines) until only the rich can go there. Despite this being the region in which I grew up, today's trip was probably only my fifth or sixth to Central. Even though I'm a ten-minute drive away from it now, a trip to Central still seems like a special occasion. There's the Organizing of the Quarters (needed for parking; there's nowhere to park down there). It's right in the heart of downtown, so you have to fight a lot of traffic to get there and find a spot. And there's just SO. MANY. BOOKS.
One day, I'm going to go down there with $10 worth of quarters, stay all day and really take my time. Today, I only had an hour, so I had to budget my time. The purpose of my trip was Thanksgiving children's books, for work, so I took care of that first. After that, I was free to have a little fun. Here's a list of what I picked up for myself:
The Modern Ark, Vicki Constance Croke
Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle, a film biography (hope it's not boring)
Malory: The Knight Who Became King Arthur's Chronicler, Christina Hardyment (ditto that one)
The Devil's Candy: The Bonfire of the Vanities Goes to Hollywood, Julie Salamon
Thursday Next: First Among Sequels, Jasper Fforde
The Horror in the Museum, H.P. Lovecraft
Not bad, eh? They had to send down to closed stacks for The Modern Ark, so I cooled my heels with the Thursday Next book, and honestly, I can already see myself abandoning my Nazi book for it. Not that the Nazi book isn't interesting, but how can it compete with a stupidity surplus? (Don't ask.) Anyway, it's a 7-day book, so I'll have to get it done. Awwwwwww, too bad!
Naturally, I tend to go a little nuts in a place like that. Not just because a little part of me worries that one day they'll realize what an incredible luxury libraries are -- and all for free -- and start charging huge amounts (beyond my late fines) until only the rich can go there. Despite this being the region in which I grew up, today's trip was probably only my fifth or sixth to Central. Even though I'm a ten-minute drive away from it now, a trip to Central still seems like a special occasion. There's the Organizing of the Quarters (needed for parking; there's nowhere to park down there). It's right in the heart of downtown, so you have to fight a lot of traffic to get there and find a spot. And there's just SO. MANY. BOOKS.
One day, I'm going to go down there with $10 worth of quarters, stay all day and really take my time. Today, I only had an hour, so I had to budget my time. The purpose of my trip was Thanksgiving children's books, for work, so I took care of that first. After that, I was free to have a little fun. Here's a list of what I picked up for myself:
The Modern Ark, Vicki Constance Croke
Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle, a film biography (hope it's not boring)
Malory: The Knight Who Became King Arthur's Chronicler, Christina Hardyment (ditto that one)
The Devil's Candy: The Bonfire of the Vanities Goes to Hollywood, Julie Salamon
Thursday Next: First Among Sequels, Jasper Fforde
The Horror in the Museum, H.P. Lovecraft
Not bad, eh? They had to send down to closed stacks for The Modern Ark, so I cooled my heels with the Thursday Next book, and honestly, I can already see myself abandoning my Nazi book for it. Not that the Nazi book isn't interesting, but how can it compete with a stupidity surplus? (Don't ask.) Anyway, it's a 7-day book, so I'll have to get it done. Awwwwwww, too bad!
Thursday, November 15, 2007
The Happiest Blog On Earth!
When I was about 10, my family made its first trip to Disneyworld. For three of us, it was a nice vacation. For the fourth (my mother) it was almost akin to a religious experience in its transformative effect on her life since then. She went from someone who casually had fond memories of Disney movies from her childhood, to an absolute Disney fanatic. She started collecting everything she could get her hands on and putting it up everywhere. We went to all the Disney movies in the theaters multiple times, and bought them the minute they came out on VHS. When Fantasia was re-released, a local restaurant held a party with a Disney trivia contest, where you could earn various pieces of Fantasia swag. When everyone at our table had a couple of things in front of us, they barred us from entering the contest again. My mom has Disney collector friends, has joined multiple Disney fan clubs and has virtually every book on the topic.
But for her, the parks have always been the big thing. The rest of the family loves the parks as well, but I didn't love them until recently. We would go in August, when it was hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk and the crowds were at their worst. I hated the extreme heat, the long lines, battling all those people. I wanted to do different stuff for vacation: go to Alaska, or Europe, or somewhere I'd never been before.
So I never had too much interest in any of my mom's books. But for some reason, I picked up Mouse Tales and More Mouse Tales (both by David Koenig) a few years ago, and I absolutely love them! Both books give a behind-the-scenes, employee perspective of Disneyland (he apparently has a new one out, about Disneyworld; I'll have to get that from my mother). Koenig conducted many interviews with former and current employees to get the stuff Disney doesn't want you to know about.
The books are alternately hilarious and disturbing. Sprinkled throughout both are actual quotes from guests ("Excuse me, where's Toiletland?" "Do these stairs go both up and down?") as well as funny tales of employee pranks and misbehavior (I personally loved the innocent-looking Storyland guide who had an after-dark, adult-only dirty version of her spiel, where she'd tell all about Cinderella and the ball, Pinocchio and the fairies, etc. At night, there would be hordes of Marines waiting to ride. Boggles the mind, eh?)
But on the disturbing side, there are indications, shocking as they may be, that Disneyland may not actually be the happiest place on earth, not all the time. The chapter on Disney's police was disturbing. As you can imagine, security issues are tremendous at the Disney parks, particularly shoplifting. In the early decades of the park, shoplifters who got caught were either kicked out or arrested, depending on how cooperative they were. But soon, Disney caught on to the fact that businesses could seek up to $500 in damages from a shoplifter, to cover their expenses in handling the case. The security department soon became another profit generator, with them bringing in everyone they caught and seeking money from them whether or not they decided to arrest. When the lid got blown off that story, the park went in the opposite direction, taking such great pains that their security didn't appear over-aggressive that there was almost no point in having a force.
But the ultimate in "disturbing" came at the end of the second book, with a detailing of the perfect storm of mismanagement that led to the death of a visitor. The killer attraction in question, surprisingly, was the river boats. Changes in maintenance led to important things not getting done (such as the replacement of rotted wood around the cleat on the boat). Cost-cutting across the board led to inappropriate equipment (a stronger, cheaper nylon rope to loop around the cleat instead of more expensive hemp that would've snapped under too much tension). Finally, inadequate cross-training and staffing policies meant that the woman working the dock didn't realize the boat was coming in too fast and that she shouldn't throw the rope around the cleat. The rope held, the iron cleat tore loose from the boat, sheared off the dockhand's foot, and struck two tourists in the head. One never regained consciousness and died two days later.
The Disney parks are often held up as the ultimate well-oiled machine. The cast members are generally friendlier than your own family, the landscaping is perfect, and you could eat off the ground you walk on, even at the end of the day when you know it's probably been stepped on by over a million people. When you go there, it's hard to imagine a day when people stop coming and the parks close down. Koenig's extremely unauthorized books hint at how that might happen, how the quest for profit may ultimately be its downfall. At the same time, though, he humanizes this idealized company by describing how its employees, like employees anywhere else, get disgruntled, fail to perform up to standards, disagree with management, etc. His Disneyworld book should be interesting too.
But for her, the parks have always been the big thing. The rest of the family loves the parks as well, but I didn't love them until recently. We would go in August, when it was hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk and the crowds were at their worst. I hated the extreme heat, the long lines, battling all those people. I wanted to do different stuff for vacation: go to Alaska, or Europe, or somewhere I'd never been before.
So I never had too much interest in any of my mom's books. But for some reason, I picked up Mouse Tales and More Mouse Tales (both by David Koenig) a few years ago, and I absolutely love them! Both books give a behind-the-scenes, employee perspective of Disneyland (he apparently has a new one out, about Disneyworld; I'll have to get that from my mother). Koenig conducted many interviews with former and current employees to get the stuff Disney doesn't want you to know about.
The books are alternately hilarious and disturbing. Sprinkled throughout both are actual quotes from guests ("Excuse me, where's Toiletland?" "Do these stairs go both up and down?") as well as funny tales of employee pranks and misbehavior (I personally loved the innocent-looking Storyland guide who had an after-dark, adult-only dirty version of her spiel, where she'd tell all about Cinderella and the ball, Pinocchio and the fairies, etc. At night, there would be hordes of Marines waiting to ride. Boggles the mind, eh?)
But on the disturbing side, there are indications, shocking as they may be, that Disneyland may not actually be the happiest place on earth, not all the time. The chapter on Disney's police was disturbing. As you can imagine, security issues are tremendous at the Disney parks, particularly shoplifting. In the early decades of the park, shoplifters who got caught were either kicked out or arrested, depending on how cooperative they were. But soon, Disney caught on to the fact that businesses could seek up to $500 in damages from a shoplifter, to cover their expenses in handling the case. The security department soon became another profit generator, with them bringing in everyone they caught and seeking money from them whether or not they decided to arrest. When the lid got blown off that story, the park went in the opposite direction, taking such great pains that their security didn't appear over-aggressive that there was almost no point in having a force.
But the ultimate in "disturbing" came at the end of the second book, with a detailing of the perfect storm of mismanagement that led to the death of a visitor. The killer attraction in question, surprisingly, was the river boats. Changes in maintenance led to important things not getting done (such as the replacement of rotted wood around the cleat on the boat). Cost-cutting across the board led to inappropriate equipment (a stronger, cheaper nylon rope to loop around the cleat instead of more expensive hemp that would've snapped under too much tension). Finally, inadequate cross-training and staffing policies meant that the woman working the dock didn't realize the boat was coming in too fast and that she shouldn't throw the rope around the cleat. The rope held, the iron cleat tore loose from the boat, sheared off the dockhand's foot, and struck two tourists in the head. One never regained consciousness and died two days later.
The Disney parks are often held up as the ultimate well-oiled machine. The cast members are generally friendlier than your own family, the landscaping is perfect, and you could eat off the ground you walk on, even at the end of the day when you know it's probably been stepped on by over a million people. When you go there, it's hard to imagine a day when people stop coming and the parks close down. Koenig's extremely unauthorized books hint at how that might happen, how the quest for profit may ultimately be its downfall. At the same time, though, he humanizes this idealized company by describing how its employees, like employees anywhere else, get disgruntled, fail to perform up to standards, disagree with management, etc. His Disneyworld book should be interesting too.
Thanks to the People Who Commented!
I was thinking about today's entry, a little ashamed of what I posted yesterday. Even though it was real and honest, it was also a little whiny and worse, left me nowhere to go. I mean, how can you say you've got nothing worth sharing and then go on blogging? So it was nice to come here today and see two comments. I'm glad that you both like my blog enough to come here on a regular basis. I will have to come visit you now, too!
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
NaBloPoMo in shambles
Well, it's happened. I'm out of shit to write about. I chose the wrong book off my TBR list to read this week. Inside the Third Reich, while interesting, weighs in at around 600 pages. It's engaging but slow going, if you know what I mean, and is going to take a while. All of my library books are due back, and who knows when I'll be able to go get some more.
And it forced me to face facts: my life is boring. All I ever do is work, watch TV, read books and hang out with a. my parents or b. my boyfriend. I can barely even remember the last time I got a phone call that wasn't from one of the two of them. No one even reads this blog anyway, here or at NaBloPoMo, so why am I still even writing it? It's a depressing thought. If I don't want the rest of my life to go like this, I've got to start getting out there, trying to get involved in more stuff. But work just seems to take up so much of my life, that I don't have much energy or tolerance for people I don't know at the end of the day. And I wonder where you even meet them.
The easy answer to my not having much of a life is that I've moved around too much, but I know that's not the real answer. I was in my last town for almost two years, which should've been long enough to get to know somebody. But I didn't. The few people I met there seemed to lose interest in me quickly, not that we had much in common anyway. It seems like it gets harder to make and keep friends as you get older, even cyber-friends. It's hard to make yourself make the effort, knowing the odds of it just getting slapped back at you. And it becomes a self-perpetuating cycle that way: you reach out to someone and they don't respond, so the next time someone reaches out to you, you're less likely to respond, which means that person may stop reaching out too. It seems like people in their thirties mostly hang with their families and boyfriends and that's it. I guess a lot of people make friends through work, but I only work with two other people. It's a depressing state of affairs, but I don't see it changing anytime soon.
And it forced me to face facts: my life is boring. All I ever do is work, watch TV, read books and hang out with a. my parents or b. my boyfriend. I can barely even remember the last time I got a phone call that wasn't from one of the two of them. No one even reads this blog anyway, here or at NaBloPoMo, so why am I still even writing it? It's a depressing thought. If I don't want the rest of my life to go like this, I've got to start getting out there, trying to get involved in more stuff. But work just seems to take up so much of my life, that I don't have much energy or tolerance for people I don't know at the end of the day. And I wonder where you even meet them.
The easy answer to my not having much of a life is that I've moved around too much, but I know that's not the real answer. I was in my last town for almost two years, which should've been long enough to get to know somebody. But I didn't. The few people I met there seemed to lose interest in me quickly, not that we had much in common anyway. It seems like it gets harder to make and keep friends as you get older, even cyber-friends. It's hard to make yourself make the effort, knowing the odds of it just getting slapped back at you. And it becomes a self-perpetuating cycle that way: you reach out to someone and they don't respond, so the next time someone reaches out to you, you're less likely to respond, which means that person may stop reaching out too. It seems like people in their thirties mostly hang with their families and boyfriends and that's it. I guess a lot of people make friends through work, but I only work with two other people. It's a depressing state of affairs, but I don't see it changing anytime soon.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
What the Hell? Or, Things I never imagined I'd be blogging about
Picture it: 5:30 AM. My guy and I are both sound asleep in our bed. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, we both snap awake. The house is filled with a burning, scorching smell. Holy shit! Did we forget to blow out the candle before bed? Did we fail to turn off the oven? The motion detector light snaps on behind the house. Don't ask what inspired us to do this, given that the stray cats around here set it off about ten times a night, but we both hop up and look out the window. There's something...strange back there. Something glowing. Something dark and smoky. HOLY SHIT, THE HOUSE BEHIND US IS ON FIRE!
All through the early morning, we could hear the windows of the burning house cracking and the occasional gust of water hit our own house. At one point, I looked outside and realized I could see right through the gable of the house. The whole roof is basically over here now. My guy went out to move our cars because they were getting pelted with water, foam, leaves, and pieces of charred wood and asphalt shingles. It still stinks over here. I don't know if you've ever smelled a house burning, but it smells really, really bad, not nice like a campfire, but acrid like burning plastic. No one was hurt, or killed or anything. I guess the house was abandoned, and slated to be torn down anyway. Well, it's happening now!
Fortunately, I had today off from work. We spent most of it catching up on the sleep we lost, then cleaning all of the pieces of roofing, charred wood, broken glass and nails out of the driveway. Fortunately there was a garage between the burning house and our cars, house and driveway, or we'd be in real trouble. There's a vacant lot right next to us and the area up by that house is crammed with debris. I took my car to Delta Sonic and got it all cleaned off and shined up. One tire was almost completely flat, and I'm hoping we didn't back over a nail or anything when my guy moved it for me early this morning (awwww). It's still all wet back there, too.
So here's a list of things I didn't know about house fires:
1. They smell really, really bad.
2. The electric company comes while the fire is still in progress to cut the power.
3. In addition to all of the utilities you'd expect to show up pre-demolition, like gas, water and electric, the phone company comes as well.
4. Debris scatters about 50 feet.
5. The house can still look more or less the same (except for the fact that the whole roof is on the property behind it) and still need emergency demolition.
6. "Emergency demolition" doesn't necessarily mean "that day." The house is still up right now.
Mostly, I hope the city comes to clean the vacant lot next to us. Even though it's not our property, we still have to look at it every day. It's bad enough that there's the rusted-out grill out there and the fallen-dwon chain-link fence. I don't want to be staring at charred wood and pieces of shingle all winter!
All through the early morning, we could hear the windows of the burning house cracking and the occasional gust of water hit our own house. At one point, I looked outside and realized I could see right through the gable of the house. The whole roof is basically over here now. My guy went out to move our cars because they were getting pelted with water, foam, leaves, and pieces of charred wood and asphalt shingles. It still stinks over here. I don't know if you've ever smelled a house burning, but it smells really, really bad, not nice like a campfire, but acrid like burning plastic. No one was hurt, or killed or anything. I guess the house was abandoned, and slated to be torn down anyway. Well, it's happening now!
Fortunately, I had today off from work. We spent most of it catching up on the sleep we lost, then cleaning all of the pieces of roofing, charred wood, broken glass and nails out of the driveway. Fortunately there was a garage between the burning house and our cars, house and driveway, or we'd be in real trouble. There's a vacant lot right next to us and the area up by that house is crammed with debris. I took my car to Delta Sonic and got it all cleaned off and shined up. One tire was almost completely flat, and I'm hoping we didn't back over a nail or anything when my guy moved it for me early this morning (awwww). It's still all wet back there, too.
So here's a list of things I didn't know about house fires:
1. They smell really, really bad.
2. The electric company comes while the fire is still in progress to cut the power.
3. In addition to all of the utilities you'd expect to show up pre-demolition, like gas, water and electric, the phone company comes as well.
4. Debris scatters about 50 feet.
5. The house can still look more or less the same (except for the fact that the whole roof is on the property behind it) and still need emergency demolition.
6. "Emergency demolition" doesn't necessarily mean "that day." The house is still up right now.
Mostly, I hope the city comes to clean the vacant lot next to us. Even though it's not our property, we still have to look at it every day. It's bad enough that there's the rusted-out grill out there and the fallen-dwon chain-link fence. I don't want to be staring at charred wood and pieces of shingle all winter!
Monday, November 12, 2007
Some nice children's books, for Veterans Day
Believe it or not, this is a really hard topic to find books or resources on. I had to do it for work -- we did a Veterans Day program for kids. I wanted to do stories and crafts. It was hard to find something that didn't glorify war (society in general does enough of that) and lent itself to being read out loud. Because of bureacracy, I couldn't get a library card for the town my job is in without going through the library director. So one of the board members went for me.
My favorite was This Land Is Your Land. I think Woody Guthrie is credited as the author. You all know what that one's about, but the illustrations in it were really beautiful. You could have framed each of them. There are also some verses at the end of that song that generally don't get sung, questioning how free the country really is, and whether this land really is made for you and me. I'd never heard them before and it made me smile at how that song's always turned into a rah-rah patriotic song. It's like when Ronald Reagan used "Born In the USA" as his campaign theme song. I guess he didn't listen to the verses!
Another good one was called The Star-Spangled Banner. It was more factual and explained all the symbols of the country: the different places, people and objects that just scream "America". Finally, Yankee Doodle told the story of that song. I wish I had the books with me so I could say who wrote them. But I can't remember -- shame, as I'm posting this partly for anyone else who anticipates finding themselves in the same boat next year. If the board member hasn't picked up her books by later in the week, I can post them.
My favorite was This Land Is Your Land. I think Woody Guthrie is credited as the author. You all know what that one's about, but the illustrations in it were really beautiful. You could have framed each of them. There are also some verses at the end of that song that generally don't get sung, questioning how free the country really is, and whether this land really is made for you and me. I'd never heard them before and it made me smile at how that song's always turned into a rah-rah patriotic song. It's like when Ronald Reagan used "Born In the USA" as his campaign theme song. I guess he didn't listen to the verses!
Another good one was called The Star-Spangled Banner. It was more factual and explained all the symbols of the country: the different places, people and objects that just scream "America". Finally, Yankee Doodle told the story of that song. I wish I had the books with me so I could say who wrote them. But I can't remember -- shame, as I'm posting this partly for anyone else who anticipates finding themselves in the same boat next year. If the board member hasn't picked up her books by later in the week, I can post them.
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