My online bookgroup started a discussion about whether place can be character. The thread began when one of the members heard an author's talk (Geraldine Brooks) in which the author said she thinks of place as a character when she researches/writes.
So far, so good. But of course a couple of people objected to this statement, the most succinct objection was: "Setting is a character. Plot is a character. Who really needs characters any more? She shouldn't be trying to write novels unless she knows the difference."
It occured to me that the distinction between actor and actant in Greimas's 'actantial model' might be useful, so this is what I posted:
I wonder if it might help to think of A.J. Greimas's model of actants as a way of having your cake and eating it too.
Greimas differentiates between actants and actors. Actants are figures or types, like hero, or villain, or princess, or troll... (he developed the theory in response to Propp's work with fairytales). Actants are what drives the action - think of fairytales - the king demands that his sons perform an act, which starts the story off (and usually the youngest one is the only one who is successful). When they meet an old crone/wise woman/sage and receive a magical talisman, that's another actant. The actant is a role or a type and whatever it does, it moves the story forward.
Actors on the other hand are individual incarnations of these roles. Thus, actors can fulfill several actant roles.
In this model then, couldn't place fulfill an actant role? If you think of fairytales again, say Hansel and Gretel, the witch's house fulfills an actant role as a temptation. If Hansel and Gretel hadn's stopped to eat the house, then they wouldn't have gotten caught, and the story would be a rather dull one about children wandering around in a forest. The house isn't a character, since it isn't internally motivated to tempt the children, but by acting as a temptation, it drives the narrative forward.
It doesn't just work for fairytales either. Think of the house in _Amityville Horror_, or the Congo in _Heart of Darkness_; without those specific places, the narrative would unfold very differently, would it not?
In this model, characters are still characters, but it is still possible for a place to play a role that's more important than just simply backdrop (however beautifully written or exotic that backdrop might be).
Just wondering...
What do you think?
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Saturday, April 23, 2005
Sin City
Okay, so this movie is stuck in my head, even though I watched it last night and that usually means it was a good movie ('good' at least in a 'makes michele think' kind of way). So if you haven't seen it (and it's been out for a while, so you should've already) don't read 'cause there might be spoilers, yadda, yadda etc. 'nuff said.
Stylistically, I thought of Sky Captain and the World of Tommorrow - though the acting in this one was better, probably in part because the effects were created in the editing studio after shooting on actual sets as opposed to against a blue screen, and Hulk in the attempt to replicate the comic/graphic novel structure. I even found myself comparing the gritty black and white 'traced' aesthetics of this film with the brilliant-over-the-top-color of Dick Tracy (yeah, I know that's going back a bit).
The structuralist in me *gasp! strucuralist!?* was fascinated with the representation of the epidodic nature of comics/graphic novels in the movie. Hulk used multi-pane windows to indicate concurrent activity, which closely replicates the actual structure of the comic book genre, but Sin City used an episodic, temporally overlapping series of narratives to express the same thing. This second strategy does produce a sense of confusion in the viewer momentarily (particularly when Kevin (re)appears in the Nancy narrative, but then doesn't threaten anyone), but its advantage is that it creates a disconnect between scenes that, although belonging to different story lines, would otherwise be juxtaposed and seem therefore to be related to each other in a concurrent telling of the disparate storylines.
The other thing about the structure/form of the narrative that fascinated me was the jarring proximity of the hard-boiled detective story kind of narration (complete with voice-over) and the fantastical elements of the story (Kevin's activities and then his ability to survive those same activities when they are enacted upon him by someone else) See? Not a complete spoiler there...
Then there was the pretty much entirely unrealistic storyline about Oldtown. I'm sorry, but I find it hard to believe that if women had complete control over prostitution, they would continue to engage in it. Aside from money, where might be the attraction in it? And if these women were so strong and powerful, would they not be able to invent other ways of using that to their (financial) advantage? Or are we to believe that the women of Oldtown are some subset of women who like walking around half naked - all the time - and being paid to have sex? Don't they ever just feel like being a little less Amazonian at times? Do they go to the grocery store like that? And since when did all hookers have such tight, perfect bodies? And skills? you know, like bow skills...
Maybe I'm just having problems with it, not so much because it is unrealistic, but because it just strikes me as another example of male fantasy, which, let's face it, drives the whole movie. The only reason anyone takes on corruption in Basin City is because they're horny for women (I don't count the prostitutes as taking on corruption since they've coopted it into their scheme of turned heads), not for some altruistic meaning. That's why the scene where Hardigan saves little 11 year old Nancy has to be the first in the movie, otherwise, after seeing all those other men go ga-ga over scantily clad women and embark on a killing spree, Hardigan's altruism 'an old man's life for a little girl's' just would get icky, looking like the pedophillic accusations that he is 'falsely' accused of in the narrative. After all, the relationship that starts so innocently ends up less so, particularly when he repeats his maxim, changing it to accomodate a grown-up, curvy, exotic dancer Nancy, 'an old man's life for a young woman's'.
And yes, I know that some of this has to do with the conventions of the genre - both comic/graphic novel and the detective story or vice and crime. Like I said, it made me think, stuck with me, got me thinking about other movies that do the same thing different ways or different things in the same way. Overall, money well spent.
Stylistically, I thought of Sky Captain and the World of Tommorrow - though the acting in this one was better, probably in part because the effects were created in the editing studio after shooting on actual sets as opposed to against a blue screen, and Hulk in the attempt to replicate the comic/graphic novel structure. I even found myself comparing the gritty black and white 'traced' aesthetics of this film with the brilliant-over-the-top-color of Dick Tracy (yeah, I know that's going back a bit).
The structuralist in me *gasp! strucuralist!?* was fascinated with the representation of the epidodic nature of comics/graphic novels in the movie. Hulk used multi-pane windows to indicate concurrent activity, which closely replicates the actual structure of the comic book genre, but Sin City used an episodic, temporally overlapping series of narratives to express the same thing. This second strategy does produce a sense of confusion in the viewer momentarily (particularly when Kevin (re)appears in the Nancy narrative, but then doesn't threaten anyone), but its advantage is that it creates a disconnect between scenes that, although belonging to different story lines, would otherwise be juxtaposed and seem therefore to be related to each other in a concurrent telling of the disparate storylines.
The other thing about the structure/form of the narrative that fascinated me was the jarring proximity of the hard-boiled detective story kind of narration (complete with voice-over) and the fantastical elements of the story (Kevin's activities and then his ability to survive those same activities when they are enacted upon him by someone else) See? Not a complete spoiler there...
Then there was the pretty much entirely unrealistic storyline about Oldtown. I'm sorry, but I find it hard to believe that if women had complete control over prostitution, they would continue to engage in it. Aside from money, where might be the attraction in it? And if these women were so strong and powerful, would they not be able to invent other ways of using that to their (financial) advantage? Or are we to believe that the women of Oldtown are some subset of women who like walking around half naked - all the time - and being paid to have sex? Don't they ever just feel like being a little less Amazonian at times? Do they go to the grocery store like that? And since when did all hookers have such tight, perfect bodies? And skills? you know, like bow skills...
Maybe I'm just having problems with it, not so much because it is unrealistic, but because it just strikes me as another example of male fantasy, which, let's face it, drives the whole movie. The only reason anyone takes on corruption in Basin City is because they're horny for women (I don't count the prostitutes as taking on corruption since they've coopted it into their scheme of turned heads), not for some altruistic meaning. That's why the scene where Hardigan saves little 11 year old Nancy has to be the first in the movie, otherwise, after seeing all those other men go ga-ga over scantily clad women and embark on a killing spree, Hardigan's altruism 'an old man's life for a little girl's' just would get icky, looking like the pedophillic accusations that he is 'falsely' accused of in the narrative. After all, the relationship that starts so innocently ends up less so, particularly when he repeats his maxim, changing it to accomodate a grown-up, curvy, exotic dancer Nancy, 'an old man's life for a young woman's'.
And yes, I know that some of this has to do with the conventions of the genre - both comic/graphic novel and the detective story or vice and crime. Like I said, it made me think, stuck with me, got me thinking about other movies that do the same thing different ways or different things in the same way. Overall, money well spent.
While you're procrastinating doing something else
you might be amused at the folowing: bubble wrap (manic mode is particularly amusing) and an old but good joke updated and appearing particularly relevant these days.
(thanks to R for always sending me these great little bits of electronic amusement that perk up my day!)
(thanks to R for always sending me these great little bits of electronic amusement that perk up my day!)
Friday, April 22, 2005
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Today was a day for falling in love
No, I'm not looking at anyone in particular, and yes, I'm in love with my husband.
What I was thinking that today was one of those kind of days when you could fall in love with a new city. Yeah, I know I've lived here almost three years already, but it still feels like a new city - I suppose when you have your head stuck in books all day, it takes a bit longer to notice your surroundings.
The air was crisp but soft - not biting-crisp like winter (which always reminds me of my childhood) or the hazy, washed out heat of summer (like when we first arrived here in the middle of a heat wave), but a just-right temperature and clarity that made the colors of the Charles River absolutely vibrant. Crossing the river everytime I go into the city is one of the few things that make the hour and a half long trek worth it... and today it was worth every minute of it. I watched the downtown skyline go by above a brilliant blue river dotted with dazzlingly white sailboats and thought "Today is the kind of day that could make you fall in love with this place".
That is, you could fall in love with it if you were the kind of person who wasn't still stuck in some kind of pathological limbo state where you vacillate between missing the old place and worrying about having to move yet again before too long and not wanting to get attached to the current place if you've just got to leave anyway, dreading the idea of having to perhaps start all over again another time.
If you weren't that kind of person, today was the kind of day that could make you fall in love with a city like this one.
What I was thinking that today was one of those kind of days when you could fall in love with a new city. Yeah, I know I've lived here almost three years already, but it still feels like a new city - I suppose when you have your head stuck in books all day, it takes a bit longer to notice your surroundings.
The air was crisp but soft - not biting-crisp like winter (which always reminds me of my childhood) or the hazy, washed out heat of summer (like when we first arrived here in the middle of a heat wave), but a just-right temperature and clarity that made the colors of the Charles River absolutely vibrant. Crossing the river everytime I go into the city is one of the few things that make the hour and a half long trek worth it... and today it was worth every minute of it. I watched the downtown skyline go by above a brilliant blue river dotted with dazzlingly white sailboats and thought "Today is the kind of day that could make you fall in love with this place".
That is, you could fall in love with it if you were the kind of person who wasn't still stuck in some kind of pathological limbo state where you vacillate between missing the old place and worrying about having to move yet again before too long and not wanting to get attached to the current place if you've just got to leave anyway, dreading the idea of having to perhaps start all over again another time.
If you weren't that kind of person, today was the kind of day that could make you fall in love with a city like this one.
Better sleep solutions?
We're buying a new bed... not this moment (though I am bidding on a cool headboard on ebay and I'm wheening!), but very soon. Maybe a good night's sleep is what I really need... I think that the bed we have right now has been taken apart and moved too many times and is falling apart.
(It did make an awfully nasty noise at one point... so nasty, I found myself actually surpised that I wasn't lying on the floor!)
You know, there's some mattresses out there that cost more than my car's worth... but man are they comfy! We also looked at king size beds at one point... but they we measured out the space it would take in our room, and there really wasn't room for anything else if we did that! So we'll have to stick to something smaller for now - too bad - king size are downright luxurious to roll around in.
But since the computer crashed multiple times yesterday, it may come down to a choice between sleep (buying a bed) and work (buying a new computer)... yeah, yeah, I know which one I should choose!
(It did make an awfully nasty noise at one point... so nasty, I found myself actually surpised that I wasn't lying on the floor!)
You know, there's some mattresses out there that cost more than my car's worth... but man are they comfy! We also looked at king size beds at one point... but they we measured out the space it would take in our room, and there really wasn't room for anything else if we did that! So we'll have to stick to something smaller for now - too bad - king size are downright luxurious to roll around in.
But since the computer crashed multiple times yesterday, it may come down to a choice between sleep (buying a bed) and work (buying a new computer)... yeah, yeah, I know which one I should choose!
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Vacation
I need a vacation. I'm so tired of working.
I've had two people in the same number of days tell me that I'm not looking or acting like myself lately.
And I know they're right. I feel like some kind of bizarre reading-machine that just takes in and takes in and takes in, compiling, and collecting little bits of information, collating them and filing them away into little corners where they'll likely be lost in a confusing mass of undifferentiated words and phrases all jumbling around in the back of my brain like the last apples in a barrel. And yet the stack of things to still be pumped into the reading-machine just keeps growing and growing because it seems almost impossible to pin down what is necessary and what isn't in the pile and I just keep reading and reading and wondering if it's really all worth while. After all, what really is it all for? It's not like I'm doing a degree in something useful, say, like, dentistry, where I know I'll come out with a job in the end.
Q: What do they call the guy who finishes last in dental school?
A: Dentist.
Can't say they same for all my studying - it all feels pretty futile.
Yesterday I managed to forget about being a student for a couple of hours, and it was like a weight came off my shoulders. I felt like a human being instead of a reading-machine, if just for a while. Wish I could get more of that.
I've had two people in the same number of days tell me that I'm not looking or acting like myself lately.
And I know they're right. I feel like some kind of bizarre reading-machine that just takes in and takes in and takes in, compiling, and collecting little bits of information, collating them and filing them away into little corners where they'll likely be lost in a confusing mass of undifferentiated words and phrases all jumbling around in the back of my brain like the last apples in a barrel. And yet the stack of things to still be pumped into the reading-machine just keeps growing and growing because it seems almost impossible to pin down what is necessary and what isn't in the pile and I just keep reading and reading and wondering if it's really all worth while. After all, what really is it all for? It's not like I'm doing a degree in something useful, say, like, dentistry, where I know I'll come out with a job in the end.
Q: What do they call the guy who finishes last in dental school?
A: Dentist.
Can't say they same for all my studying - it all feels pretty futile.
Yesterday I managed to forget about being a student for a couple of hours, and it was like a weight came off my shoulders. I felt like a human being instead of a reading-machine, if just for a while. Wish I could get more of that.
Sunday, April 17, 2005
If you're a PhD student and were depressed by the earlier post...
...then you might not want to read this. Then again, it might cheer you up in ways that knowing depression is endemic to graduate school didn't.
Shades of cockroaches scurrying through my office come to mind as I read this article in the chronicle about office space in the humanities.
Shades of cockroaches scurrying through my office come to mind as I read this article in the chronicle about office space in the humanities.
Saturday, April 16, 2005
At first its all "oohs" and "aahs" and then the running and screaming starts
Imagine my delight at seeing my husband bring my computer home last night from servicing and turning it on! It's alive!
Then imagine the wailing and gnashing of teeth when it crashed only an hour into working with it this morning.
It's as if my computer has gone one better than virus, and has some kind of strange electronic cancer that just keeps metastasizing. I got rid of the last hard drive because it was supposed to have been the source of the problem, but it keeps coming back... like a cancer, or malaria... or ex-husbands...
(actually the last one was just a really bad dream... a sort of marital version of The Handmaid's Tale's reproductive dystopia where everyone was forced to stick with their first choice...)
Then imagine the wailing and gnashing of teeth when it crashed only an hour into working with it this morning.
It's as if my computer has gone one better than virus, and has some kind of strange electronic cancer that just keeps metastasizing. I got rid of the last hard drive because it was supposed to have been the source of the problem, but it keeps coming back... like a cancer, or malaria... or ex-husbands...
(actually the last one was just a really bad dream... a sort of marital version of The Handmaid's Tale's reproductive dystopia where everyone was forced to stick with their first choice...)
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Not about me (for a change)
Oldest daughter is going to Honduras this summer, but sometimes I think I have to do just as much work to get her there as she does (I know this isn't true 'cause she's done some amazing things to have this opportunity, but it just sometimes feels like it). Biggest problem right now is getting her to the training tomorrow at the same time as another kid needs to be in another place... do all parents of more than one child eventually run into this problem? I'll figure it out, but it's annoying.
I'm also a little nervous (okay, sometimes, really nervous) about her going. My nervousness factor went WAY up when she handed me the list of current immunizations she should have. Yellow fever? Rabies vaccine? Yipes!
Why is it that I'm getting the willies when she doesn't seem to even notice? My guess is it's that sense of invicincibility all teenagers seem to have. Thing is, the older I get, the greater the number of times my body lets me down, and I start to realize how fragile it can be... even when I revel in its strength. I suppose when you're young, your body hasn't betrayed you often enough for you to start to distrust it. Hence, I'm the one who's not sleeping at night.
So, she's not totally sure what she'll be doing with the team - she's got the equivalent of two textbooks worth of stuff to read, so hopefully she'll know by the time she reads all of it (and before she gets there!). Sounds like a fabulous opportunity regardless of what she's working on. And I'm sure we'll see some significant changes in our daughter when she gets back at the end of the summer, just as we did after she came back from Colorado last summer.
But I still get a little nervous about it everytime I think about her going.
Hmmm...come to think of it, this entry really was about me anyway.
I'm also a little nervous (okay, sometimes, really nervous) about her going. My nervousness factor went WAY up when she handed me the list of current immunizations she should have. Yellow fever? Rabies vaccine? Yipes!
Why is it that I'm getting the willies when she doesn't seem to even notice? My guess is it's that sense of invicincibility all teenagers seem to have. Thing is, the older I get, the greater the number of times my body lets me down, and I start to realize how fragile it can be... even when I revel in its strength. I suppose when you're young, your body hasn't betrayed you often enough for you to start to distrust it. Hence, I'm the one who's not sleeping at night.
So, she's not totally sure what she'll be doing with the team - she's got the equivalent of two textbooks worth of stuff to read, so hopefully she'll know by the time she reads all of it (and before she gets there!). Sounds like a fabulous opportunity regardless of what she's working on. And I'm sure we'll see some significant changes in our daughter when she gets back at the end of the summer, just as we did after she came back from Colorado last summer.
But I still get a little nervous about it everytime I think about her going.
Hmmm...come to think of it, this entry really was about me anyway.
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
Getting by...
Still don't know if it will be possible to resuscitate my computer.
Managed to rip a hole in my finger at school - how do you injure yourself doing English, anyway? And no, it's not a paper cut, it's a hole.
Good conversation with the supervisor for one of my comps areas - went just about how I expected, but not as bad as I dreaded... I think that's a good thing.
Newsflash to other NEU doctoral students reading! New comps proposals: 500-750 words.
That's TOTAL for all three areas.
Thank god! 'cause I'm not near as prolific as some people...
... well, at least as far as writing goes...
Managed to rip a hole in my finger at school - how do you injure yourself doing English, anyway? And no, it's not a paper cut, it's a hole.
Good conversation with the supervisor for one of my comps areas - went just about how I expected, but not as bad as I dreaded... I think that's a good thing.
Newsflash to other NEU doctoral students reading! New comps proposals: 500-750 words.
That's TOTAL for all three areas.
Thank god! 'cause I'm not near as prolific as some people...
... well, at least as far as writing goes...
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Depressed
My computer is busted again. Obviously the problem last time wasn't the hard drive like IT guys said since a new hard drive is also having same problems as old one.
My sorrow knows no bounds.
My sorrow knows no bounds.
Monday, April 04, 2005
CEA Conference
Getting to Indianapolis was a breeze - no delayed flights, and thanks to some careful planning (and the need for only 3 rather than 4 days of clothes) no bags to check and have opened during a security check.
(Okay, so I know these people are 'professionals' and all (I use that term loosely) but the idea of someone digging through my clothes and other personal items behind the scenes just creeps me out. If they gotta open my bag, I'd rather they did it at the security checkpoint where I can see them.)
My first thought as the bus started travelling from the airport into the city was that the place reminded me of a cross between Regina and Swift Current. The feeling faded a bit as I got closer to downtown, but the city never transcended that small-prairie-city feel that I first got from it.
I arrived before my roomate, so went to grab food but by the time I came back, she was there. We wrestled over who would get the bed by the window and I won... okay, not really, but if we had, I coulda taken her. She's a librarian, and as she confessed herself, a stereotypical librarian... though she did admit to me that if I ever want to find a man, I should go to geology conferences, 'cause the guys who attend those are all really manly-type men!
I headed out in the evening to explore, and by the time I'd done the walk along the river and the monument at the center of town, I realized I'd 'done' everything there was to do in Indianapolis! I suppose I could've gone to the zoo, but I've been to plenty of zoos, and the speedway didn't hold any real attraction for me, so the conference quickly became a working vacation. Setting my own schedule and not worrying about making food for other people, or getting up by a particular time (my presentation was in the afternoon) was fabulous! And after the hostel in San Diego, the hotel was luxurious - there were bathrobes, nintendo, snack trays, and all the little shampoo bottles and soaps you could ever desire!
The best part of all was seeing a colleague who I haven't seen for a couple of years and catching up on (and catching her up on) all the 'news' that's happened in the meantime. We had a great time at dinner and then lunch the next day and meeting her made my weekend!
Some sessions were really great, and one of them got me thinking about ways to organize one of my reading lists (a persistent monkey-on-my-back kind of problem) which really psyched me, though there were two that creeped me out: the session on the female figure in Victorian poetry that was all given by men old enough to look like they were Victorians themselves, and the session of Vonnegut where I was the only female in the room (and one panelist introduced himself to every other man in the room, but not to me). Are there no other women who like Vonnegut?
After all, I already like Dick!
(Okay, so I know these people are 'professionals' and all (I use that term loosely) but the idea of someone digging through my clothes and other personal items behind the scenes just creeps me out. If they gotta open my bag, I'd rather they did it at the security checkpoint where I can see them.)
My first thought as the bus started travelling from the airport into the city was that the place reminded me of a cross between Regina and Swift Current. The feeling faded a bit as I got closer to downtown, but the city never transcended that small-prairie-city feel that I first got from it.
I arrived before my roomate, so went to grab food but by the time I came back, she was there. We wrestled over who would get the bed by the window and I won... okay, not really, but if we had, I coulda taken her. She's a librarian, and as she confessed herself, a stereotypical librarian... though she did admit to me that if I ever want to find a man, I should go to geology conferences, 'cause the guys who attend those are all really manly-type men!
I headed out in the evening to explore, and by the time I'd done the walk along the river and the monument at the center of town, I realized I'd 'done' everything there was to do in Indianapolis! I suppose I could've gone to the zoo, but I've been to plenty of zoos, and the speedway didn't hold any real attraction for me, so the conference quickly became a working vacation. Setting my own schedule and not worrying about making food for other people, or getting up by a particular time (my presentation was in the afternoon) was fabulous! And after the hostel in San Diego, the hotel was luxurious - there were bathrobes, nintendo, snack trays, and all the little shampoo bottles and soaps you could ever desire!
The best part of all was seeing a colleague who I haven't seen for a couple of years and catching up on (and catching her up on) all the 'news' that's happened in the meantime. We had a great time at dinner and then lunch the next day and meeting her made my weekend!
Some sessions were really great, and one of them got me thinking about ways to organize one of my reading lists (a persistent monkey-on-my-back kind of problem) which really psyched me, though there were two that creeped me out: the session on the female figure in Victorian poetry that was all given by men old enough to look like they were Victorians themselves, and the session of Vonnegut where I was the only female in the room (and one panelist introduced himself to every other man in the room, but not to me). Are there no other women who like Vonnegut?
After all, I already like Dick!
Glad I'm not alone
Depressed doctoral students? Naaaaah, you must be dreaming!
This article in the Chronicle doesn't surprise me in the least... in fact, it consoles me to read that in a study of 3100 graduate students 67 percent reported feeling hopeless at times, 95 percent felt overwhelmed in graduate school, and 54 percent said they had felt so "depressed that it was difficult to function."
Hell, it's comforting to know that I'm normal!
This article in the Chronicle doesn't surprise me in the least... in fact, it consoles me to read that in a study of 3100 graduate students 67 percent reported feeling hopeless at times, 95 percent felt overwhelmed in graduate school, and 54 percent said they had felt so "depressed that it was difficult to function."
Hell, it's comforting to know that I'm normal!
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Ouch!
Everything I have to do over the next month (plus all the things I should've done over the last two weeks but didn't 'cause I was flying all over the place) came crashing down on my head... literally... this morning. I took one look at my desk and realized that a) there's a lot of stuff on it, and b) all that stuff needs to be read, noted, filed, annotated, or otherwise dealt with in a painful manner.
Ugh!
On a cheerier note, I woke up to my children quoting Eddie Izzard 'Bunch of flowers' and 'Areyouhappywithyourwash?', which made me glad to be home.
Guess it really is all about the good together with the bad.
Ugh!
On a cheerier note, I woke up to my children quoting Eddie Izzard 'Bunch of flowers' and 'Areyouhappywithyourwash?', which made me glad to be home.
Guess it really is all about the good together with the bad.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
Technology is insidious
I just got sidetracked from what I should be doing by thinking about all the technological gadgets and inventions that I now feel like I couldn't do without, though I do remember a time before they existed.
I was reading a book where a reference was made to a novel that reminded me of a film. Now the problem was, I couldn't remember the name of the film (I have a mind like a sieve sometimes - this particular tidbit must've fallen through and got swept out with the trash).
I also knew I should be able to remember it but spent ten minutes digging around in my brain trying to find it. I could however remember one of the actors - not his name, but the fact that he was also in lots of other movies. So I went to imdb.com and looked up one of the movies I remember him being in, then linked through the cast list to his filmography, and then from there found the title of the movies I was looking for. Of course, once I saw it, I 'remembered' the title.
I would have been hard pressed to fill in that gap in my memory without the internet and readily accessible and cross-referenced information like that.
It made me remember all the other times I've said 'How did I manage without this before?' Microwave ovens (for heating baby bottles quickly while a child is wailing), VCRs (and now DVD players) for re-viewing movies (with pause features to stop and make notes), cell phones (try going without one for a while - hard to find payphones these days) just to name a few. There are plenty of other things I enjoy but can imagine doing without, but these ones definitely make my life more convenient.
But what would I do without them? Without the internet, I would've had to go to a library to look that information (and being inherently lazy, might not have done so!), without a microwave, you have to use water in a pot on the stove (and I've done it - it takes what seems like forever when you've got a hungry kid), without a VCR, I would have to rely on memory (or multiple trips to the theatre) to write film criticism, and without a cell phone, I'd have to find a payphone (and only call people who were at home or work with phones nearby), or plan ahead and hope nothing changes in the meantime.
Does this technology actually make my life better? Or does it just allow me to be lazier and less organized?
My guess is the latter. In that case, it might not actually be a good thing...
I was reading a book where a reference was made to a novel that reminded me of a film. Now the problem was, I couldn't remember the name of the film (I have a mind like a sieve sometimes - this particular tidbit must've fallen through and got swept out with the trash).
I also knew I should be able to remember it but spent ten minutes digging around in my brain trying to find it. I could however remember one of the actors - not his name, but the fact that he was also in lots of other movies. So I went to imdb.com and looked up one of the movies I remember him being in, then linked through the cast list to his filmography, and then from there found the title of the movies I was looking for. Of course, once I saw it, I 'remembered' the title.
I would have been hard pressed to fill in that gap in my memory without the internet and readily accessible and cross-referenced information like that.
It made me remember all the other times I've said 'How did I manage without this before?' Microwave ovens (for heating baby bottles quickly while a child is wailing), VCRs (and now DVD players) for re-viewing movies (with pause features to stop and make notes), cell phones (try going without one for a while - hard to find payphones these days) just to name a few. There are plenty of other things I enjoy but can imagine doing without, but these ones definitely make my life more convenient.
But what would I do without them? Without the internet, I would've had to go to a library to look that information (and being inherently lazy, might not have done so!), without a microwave, you have to use water in a pot on the stove (and I've done it - it takes what seems like forever when you've got a hungry kid), without a VCR, I would have to rely on memory (or multiple trips to the theatre) to write film criticism, and without a cell phone, I'd have to find a payphone (and only call people who were at home or work with phones nearby), or plan ahead and hope nothing changes in the meantime.
Does this technology actually make my life better? Or does it just allow me to be lazier and less organized?
My guess is the latter. In that case, it might not actually be a good thing...
Thursday, March 31, 2005
I survived!
Whew!
Two conferences, two papers, two flights, two different time zones/regions of the country... all in the space of a week.
And I survived! I actually got some really good response from this paper, and while I think there were several people in the audience who hadn't read any of the novels I was talking about, there were a few who had, and we had great synchronicity between each of the papers presented.
AND I'M DONE!
Now I can sit back, have dinner & drinks with my friend who I haven't seen in two years, and then alternate between sleeping, going down to the pool, oh, and attending some other panels I suppose...
Two conferences, two papers, two flights, two different time zones/regions of the country... all in the space of a week.
And I survived! I actually got some really good response from this paper, and while I think there were several people in the audience who hadn't read any of the novels I was talking about, there were a few who had, and we had great synchronicity between each of the papers presented.
AND I'M DONE!
Now I can sit back, have dinner & drinks with my friend who I haven't seen in two years, and then alternate between sleeping, going down to the pool, oh, and attending some other panels I suppose...
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
I am SO not used to this!
I feel a bit like a kid, getting all excited about nothing, but I still think it's super cool that I am writing this in my hotel room in Indianapolis.
Okay, so if you do this all the time, you're thinking, what's the fuss? but I don't do this all the time. Hell, I only got a laptop a couple of years ago (and probably wouldn't have gotten one even then if we weren't forced by the school to buy one), and only got a wireless card a couple of months ago. But I still think it's cool I can sit in my hotel room and surf, blog, answer email... all kinds of cool-not-getting-work-done kind of stuff!
I've gotta get excited about something... Indianapolis itself isn't wowing me - it reminds me of Regina.
Okay, so if you do this all the time, you're thinking, what's the fuss? but I don't do this all the time. Hell, I only got a laptop a couple of years ago (and probably wouldn't have gotten one even then if we weren't forced by the school to buy one), and only got a wireless card a couple of months ago. But I still think it's cool I can sit in my hotel room and surf, blog, answer email... all kinds of cool-not-getting-work-done kind of stuff!
I've gotta get excited about something... Indianapolis itself isn't wowing me - it reminds me of Regina.
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
PCA Conference 3
My travelling caught up to me on Friday. I went to the first session, but then skipped two to go for a run and some necessary shopping. I still met up with the group from the night before for breakfast though, but declined their offer to go to the zoo. We agreed to meet at poolside later, then go to dinner, but the zoo group didn’t make it back in time, and a smaller group of us went for margaritas at happy hour at TGIF. I don’t quite remember what I actually ate there… Overall, it was an uneventful day.
The first two sessions on Saturday morning were interesting, and I spent some time in the book vendor room (had to keep reminding myself to only look – I didn’t have any extra luggage space!), then caught a noon ferry to Coronado Island. I love ferries. Actually, I love travelling on the water, period. Growing up in the prairies, then living in the foothills of the mountains, water and water travel still holds a fascination for me. And at $2, the price was right. Half of Coronado Island is taken up by the military base, with the other half divided between homes of the ultra-rich, and a tourist trap of restaurants, gift shops, and bicycle rental shops. But just because you’re in a tourist trap, doesn’t mean you need to spend money, and I enjoyed a wander around the perimeter to the ocean side.
The houses on the island are decadently beautiful, and I immensely enjoyed the experience of wandering though immaculate neighbourhoods, smelling hibiscus and lemon trees, and ignoring the fact that this unreal vision of a city street was a far cry from any place I had ever lived (or even where the vast majority of the human population live).
I did find myself wishing I hadn’t listened to the weather forecast that said it was going to rain all week and had brought shorts instead, since the weather was fine and sunny, but by the time I got back to downtown, the wind had come up and made the ferry ride over the water chilly enough to be glad of the sweater and pants I had with me.
Disorganization struck again at dinner time. We (the Stephen King people) were supposed to meet in the lobby and go for dinner together, and I found one other King person, but neither of us saw anyone else who we recognized (and I’d been to enough of the panels to know most everyone by sight at least). So there we were a half hour later, hungry, and ready to give up on everyone else. Which we did.
We wandered the Gaslamp district, trying to find someplace that looked reasonably priced, not too loud, and not too spicy… an Irish pub seemed like just the place. Well, the not too spicy was borne out, as was the reasonably priced, but the place rapidly became so loud that we couldn’t hear each other from across the table. We decided desert would have to be somewhere else, and continued wandering, coming across a place that was part bar/part restaurant. We specifically chose it because it was almost whisper quiet and it was possible to have a good conversation. Within a half hour however, the restaurant tables were cleared away, a dance floor set up, a sound system jacked in, and bouncers with red velvet ropes deployed onto the sidewalk. Within another fifteen minutes, the collective length of women’s skirts was reduced by half, the music doubled, then trebled in volume, and then they turned it up even louder. It was time to go. The blood on the sidewalk in front of the same place as I passed it the next morning said that leaving had probably been a good call.
So I came home.
The first two sessions on Saturday morning were interesting, and I spent some time in the book vendor room (had to keep reminding myself to only look – I didn’t have any extra luggage space!), then caught a noon ferry to Coronado Island. I love ferries. Actually, I love travelling on the water, period. Growing up in the prairies, then living in the foothills of the mountains, water and water travel still holds a fascination for me. And at $2, the price was right. Half of Coronado Island is taken up by the military base, with the other half divided between homes of the ultra-rich, and a tourist trap of restaurants, gift shops, and bicycle rental shops. But just because you’re in a tourist trap, doesn’t mean you need to spend money, and I enjoyed a wander around the perimeter to the ocean side.
The houses on the island are decadently beautiful, and I immensely enjoyed the experience of wandering though immaculate neighbourhoods, smelling hibiscus and lemon trees, and ignoring the fact that this unreal vision of a city street was a far cry from any place I had ever lived (or even where the vast majority of the human population live).
I did find myself wishing I hadn’t listened to the weather forecast that said it was going to rain all week and had brought shorts instead, since the weather was fine and sunny, but by the time I got back to downtown, the wind had come up and made the ferry ride over the water chilly enough to be glad of the sweater and pants I had with me.
Disorganization struck again at dinner time. We (the Stephen King people) were supposed to meet in the lobby and go for dinner together, and I found one other King person, but neither of us saw anyone else who we recognized (and I’d been to enough of the panels to know most everyone by sight at least). So there we were a half hour later, hungry, and ready to give up on everyone else. Which we did.
We wandered the Gaslamp district, trying to find someplace that looked reasonably priced, not too loud, and not too spicy… an Irish pub seemed like just the place. Well, the not too spicy was borne out, as was the reasonably priced, but the place rapidly became so loud that we couldn’t hear each other from across the table. We decided desert would have to be somewhere else, and continued wandering, coming across a place that was part bar/part restaurant. We specifically chose it because it was almost whisper quiet and it was possible to have a good conversation. Within a half hour however, the restaurant tables were cleared away, a dance floor set up, a sound system jacked in, and bouncers with red velvet ropes deployed onto the sidewalk. Within another fifteen minutes, the collective length of women’s skirts was reduced by half, the music doubled, then trebled in volume, and then they turned it up even louder. It was time to go. The blood on the sidewalk in front of the same place as I passed it the next morning said that leaving had probably been a good call.
So I came home.
Monday, March 28, 2005
PCA Conference 2
The next morning (Thursday), I was nervous, but not too much, and reassured myself that nothing disastrous would happen during my presentation, by watching three other people present in the time slot before mine. They didn’t implode from the stress, and frankly, one guy who tried to talk off the cuff ended up sounding so disorganized, I knew I wouldn’t have any problems reading my prepared paper.
And I didn’t. We had a pretty good question period afterwards, and although the only question/comment was directed at the place where my paper and another panelist’s overlapped, I think the session worked well. Best line during the discussion period? “Harold Bloom is an ass!” The Stephen King organizer was on my panel, and told me of a great grocery store with a deli nearby, so a bunch of us headed over there. Even though there was an interesting talk on Tolkein scheduled for the next time slot, I stayed and talked, getting to know a couple of the other students. They even continued to talk to me after I interjected into the conversation at one point to say “I like Dick”, meaning of course, Philip K., but when you say it in the middle of a crowded hotel lobby, I think most people’s first thoughts do not turn to a literary reference!
One of the other grad students who I was talking to was going to the book launch of a volume that he had contributed a chapter towards, and invited me to come along, so I went. We gathered more and more people as the day progressed, and suddenly there were eight of us – six Canadians and two Americans – not sure how it worked out that way.... We were all grad students, so none of us were actually staying at the Marriott, but we still asked the doorman if he could get us a cab. Turns out, he got the hotel van, and we drove across town for the cost of a tip to the driver!
The book launch was interesting, though by the end of it, I was very hungry, so the food at the Thai food restaurant we found tasted fabulous! I’m sure it would’ve been good food either way, but being bitch-hungry helped a lot in our estimation of its quality. We all agreed to walk off some of the dinner and found a Karaoke bar, named “The Caliph” of all places, but shortly after getting there, I realized I didn’t have the night code for the front door of the hostel, and if I didn’t leave shortly, I’d find myself turning into a pumpkin, so a quick cab ride was necessary to get me to the doors on time. Happily, I didn’t turn into a pumpkin, and even slept well that night.
And I didn’t. We had a pretty good question period afterwards, and although the only question/comment was directed at the place where my paper and another panelist’s overlapped, I think the session worked well. Best line during the discussion period? “Harold Bloom is an ass!” The Stephen King organizer was on my panel, and told me of a great grocery store with a deli nearby, so a bunch of us headed over there. Even though there was an interesting talk on Tolkein scheduled for the next time slot, I stayed and talked, getting to know a couple of the other students. They even continued to talk to me after I interjected into the conversation at one point to say “I like Dick”, meaning of course, Philip K., but when you say it in the middle of a crowded hotel lobby, I think most people’s first thoughts do not turn to a literary reference!
One of the other grad students who I was talking to was going to the book launch of a volume that he had contributed a chapter towards, and invited me to come along, so I went. We gathered more and more people as the day progressed, and suddenly there were eight of us – six Canadians and two Americans – not sure how it worked out that way.... We were all grad students, so none of us were actually staying at the Marriott, but we still asked the doorman if he could get us a cab. Turns out, he got the hotel van, and we drove across town for the cost of a tip to the driver!
The book launch was interesting, though by the end of it, I was very hungry, so the food at the Thai food restaurant we found tasted fabulous! I’m sure it would’ve been good food either way, but being bitch-hungry helped a lot in our estimation of its quality. We all agreed to walk off some of the dinner and found a Karaoke bar, named “The Caliph” of all places, but shortly after getting there, I realized I didn’t have the night code for the front door of the hostel, and if I didn’t leave shortly, I’d find myself turning into a pumpkin, so a quick cab ride was necessary to get me to the doors on time. Happily, I didn’t turn into a pumpkin, and even slept well that night.
PCA conference
I landed in San Diego at about 7 pm local time (though to me it felt much later) and at first, all I could think about was getting my luggage and finding a bed. But as a walked through the terminal to the baggage claim area, my path took me past a wall of windows several stories high. Since it was dark, it took me a while to even notice that the wall was glass, but when someone walked through an automatic door next to me, the warm sweet-smelling air (yes, sweet, even at an airport!) caught my attention and with a shock, I realized I was looking out at a row of palm trees. Palm trees!
The only time I've seen palm trees (at least this variety - they had them in Sao Paulo, but they were a different species of tree and looked very different) is on vacation - I've never lived somewhere where palm trees grow, and at that moment, all the worry about whether my paper was going to be well received, whether I'd learn anything, whether I'd hear some interesting papers, or whether I'd be bored with the whole conference, just fell away and I felt a surge of excitement, as if I was on vacation. I remembered where this conference was going to be held, and looked forward to seeing the city itself in addition to the scholars I'd be spending the next three days with.
After calling home and reassuring my daughter that I was still in California even if there was a message on the phone from the airline saying that my (original) flight had been cancelled because in this country, there's always another flight, I grabbed my bag and looked forward to getting my first glimpse of the city. The bus ride into downtown was over too fast (and I missed some of it trying to show the girl from Australia on my map where she wanted to get off the bus), but from what I did see, the city seemed to sparkle.
Now, I wasn't that enraptured by the city that I forgot that cities look much nicer in the dark, with their lights shining and the garbage obscured by low lighting, but even by the light of day the next morning, the place shone. In fact, the longer I wandered around, the more I wondered why the locals even bothered putting shoes on in the morning, the streets were so neatly swept at all times. (When I left Sunday morning at 5:30, crews were already out sweeping up cigarette butts and other debris – 5:30 in the morning!)
I found the hostel without a problem, and got my room, which was nice and spacious. Worth the money, I thought. Now came the problem that I had realized even before I left Boston – I had forgotten the web print out of the conference, which included the address of the hotel the conference was actually being held at (with room rates of $150/night, it was too rich for my blood, hence the hostel). The best my mind could come up with was the Omni.
I’d seen the Omni from the bus ride, so I headed over there, but the lobby was strangely empty and the conference area had no signage. I realized I was thinking about the wrong weekend – I was going to be at the Omni in Indianapolis, not San Diego. Rooting around in my memory, I came up with the Marriott, and I’d seen one on the walk to the Omni. So I headed over there. But it’s lobby was eerily empty as well.
I was puzzled, and feeling just a bit embarrassed. But I tried to ignore my rising embarrassment and asked the desk clerk if the PCA group was meeting in this hotel. She checked. No PCA. I turned to leave, thinking it was awfully late, but I could wake someone up at home and ask them to look it up. She stopped me, “Wait, it could be at the Marriott Marina”. Oh! Two hotels! Well. Okay. Sure enough, that’s where they’re meeting, and it’s only five blocks away.
The sign that said “PCA” in the lobby of the Marriott Marina was like a beacon from on high, illuminating the prize at the end of a long quest at that point. My feet started to ache as I clutched my bag of goodies on the way back to food and bed.
Despite a mind-befuddling tiredness, I found it difficult to sleep since the restaurant across the alley seemed to need to get rid of every bottle in the kitchen, one at a time, over five minute intervals until about 3 am, but I did sleep. That is, until the bottle pickers came to gather them before the dump trucks at 5 am.
Oh well, I figure sleep’s overrated anyway.
The only time I've seen palm trees (at least this variety - they had them in Sao Paulo, but they were a different species of tree and looked very different) is on vacation - I've never lived somewhere where palm trees grow, and at that moment, all the worry about whether my paper was going to be well received, whether I'd learn anything, whether I'd hear some interesting papers, or whether I'd be bored with the whole conference, just fell away and I felt a surge of excitement, as if I was on vacation. I remembered where this conference was going to be held, and looked forward to seeing the city itself in addition to the scholars I'd be spending the next three days with.
After calling home and reassuring my daughter that I was still in California even if there was a message on the phone from the airline saying that my (original) flight had been cancelled because in this country, there's always another flight, I grabbed my bag and looked forward to getting my first glimpse of the city. The bus ride into downtown was over too fast (and I missed some of it trying to show the girl from Australia on my map where she wanted to get off the bus), but from what I did see, the city seemed to sparkle.
Now, I wasn't that enraptured by the city that I forgot that cities look much nicer in the dark, with their lights shining and the garbage obscured by low lighting, but even by the light of day the next morning, the place shone. In fact, the longer I wandered around, the more I wondered why the locals even bothered putting shoes on in the morning, the streets were so neatly swept at all times. (When I left Sunday morning at 5:30, crews were already out sweeping up cigarette butts and other debris – 5:30 in the morning!)
I found the hostel without a problem, and got my room, which was nice and spacious. Worth the money, I thought. Now came the problem that I had realized even before I left Boston – I had forgotten the web print out of the conference, which included the address of the hotel the conference was actually being held at (with room rates of $150/night, it was too rich for my blood, hence the hostel). The best my mind could come up with was the Omni.
I’d seen the Omni from the bus ride, so I headed over there, but the lobby was strangely empty and the conference area had no signage. I realized I was thinking about the wrong weekend – I was going to be at the Omni in Indianapolis, not San Diego. Rooting around in my memory, I came up with the Marriott, and I’d seen one on the walk to the Omni. So I headed over there. But it’s lobby was eerily empty as well.
I was puzzled, and feeling just a bit embarrassed. But I tried to ignore my rising embarrassment and asked the desk clerk if the PCA group was meeting in this hotel. She checked. No PCA. I turned to leave, thinking it was awfully late, but I could wake someone up at home and ask them to look it up. She stopped me, “Wait, it could be at the Marriott Marina”. Oh! Two hotels! Well. Okay. Sure enough, that’s where they’re meeting, and it’s only five blocks away.
The sign that said “PCA” in the lobby of the Marriott Marina was like a beacon from on high, illuminating the prize at the end of a long quest at that point. My feet started to ache as I clutched my bag of goodies on the way back to food and bed.
Despite a mind-befuddling tiredness, I found it difficult to sleep since the restaurant across the alley seemed to need to get rid of every bottle in the kitchen, one at a time, over five minute intervals until about 3 am, but I did sleep. That is, until the bottle pickers came to gather them before the dump trucks at 5 am.
Oh well, I figure sleep’s overrated anyway.
Well, I'm back
WOW!
What a weekend! It turned out that there was not rain the entire time (in fact, very little of it) and I didn't need that umbrella. What I needed was sunscreen - which I didn't bring - so as I type this, my nose is shining a beautiful Rudolph-esque red (which I really hope fades by tomorrow when I have to go out in public again!)
But even aside from the sunny weather, the conference itself was fabulous! It was great to be with so many people who are doing that "weird" pop culture stuff like I do. And the level of discourse in some of those papers was amazing! There were some really cogent and intelligent arguments about the most mundane phenomena - the stuff that we enjoy and take in almost without thinking much of the time. It was stimulating to hear those papers and engage in the discussions that follow!
I feel energized and excited about not only the projects that people were presenting on, but on my own work. One paper in particular was doing much the same kind of thing (very different texts) as I am in the paper this week (man, I'm gonna be tired by the time that one's over!) and I had a long discussion with its author and he gave me a copy of his paper about it, which gave me some great ideas for revising my paper and fixing some of the places where I was having a problem making things relate to each other easily.
My body is exhausted (the hostel was right in the middle of the club district of downtown San Diego - noise, not activity), but my mind in energized, and I've got a boost of energy and feel inspired to keep going - just what I needed about now.
(I need to figure out a way to get to next year's conference!)
What a weekend! It turned out that there was not rain the entire time (in fact, very little of it) and I didn't need that umbrella. What I needed was sunscreen - which I didn't bring - so as I type this, my nose is shining a beautiful Rudolph-esque red (which I really hope fades by tomorrow when I have to go out in public again!)
But even aside from the sunny weather, the conference itself was fabulous! It was great to be with so many people who are doing that "weird" pop culture stuff like I do. And the level of discourse in some of those papers was amazing! There were some really cogent and intelligent arguments about the most mundane phenomena - the stuff that we enjoy and take in almost without thinking much of the time. It was stimulating to hear those papers and engage in the discussions that follow!
I feel energized and excited about not only the projects that people were presenting on, but on my own work. One paper in particular was doing much the same kind of thing (very different texts) as I am in the paper this week (man, I'm gonna be tired by the time that one's over!) and I had a long discussion with its author and he gave me a copy of his paper about it, which gave me some great ideas for revising my paper and fixing some of the places where I was having a problem making things relate to each other easily.
My body is exhausted (the hostel was right in the middle of the club district of downtown San Diego - noise, not activity), but my mind in energized, and I've got a boost of energy and feel inspired to keep going - just what I needed about now.
(I need to figure out a way to get to next year's conference!)
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Well, I'm off
I was hoping to catch some rays between sessions in San Diego, but the forecast is for rain all week, so I'm packing my umbrella instead. Don't know what electronic connections will be like (it is pop culture, so you'd think there'd be access, then again, I'm staying at the hostel & you usually have to pay at hostels), so I may not post for a while.
Thanks to everyone who wished me luck on my trip and the paper. You guys rock!
Thanks to everyone who wished me luck on my trip and the paper. You guys rock!
Monday, March 21, 2005
Simple, really
Sometimes a cappuccino with chocolate sauce drizzled on top is the very best thing in the world.
More useless stuff
Seems I'm on a bit of a quiz kick lately... not conscious, but I just keep running across these strange quizzes. And then I take them. And the results really aren't quite what I expect.
Frankly this one's pretty much bullshit, since you can tell which questions will get you more "male" characteristics and which ones more "female" characteristics because the questions all point to socialized behaviours that are coded are male or female in our culture. So when I answered, I tried to be honest about how I've been socialized... and voilá! I'm not a social misfit... right down the middle... good ole mediocre michele... no surprises there!
*sigh* I really have to find more interesting ways to waste time - maybe it's time to buy a Nintendo
| Your Brain is 53.33% Female, 46.67% Male |
Your brain is a healthy mix of male and female You are both sensitive and savvy Rational and reasonable, you tend to keep level headed But you also tend to wear your heart on your sleeve |
Frankly this one's pretty much bullshit, since you can tell which questions will get you more "male" characteristics and which ones more "female" characteristics because the questions all point to socialized behaviours that are coded are male or female in our culture. So when I answered, I tried to be honest about how I've been socialized... and voilá! I'm not a social misfit... right down the middle... good ole mediocre michele... no surprises there!
*sigh* I really have to find more interesting ways to waste time - maybe it's time to buy a Nintendo
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Slightly less lame
Last post I wrote in this space was extremely lame and thus has gotten the axe. Question is whether this one can move on up the lame-scale!
I am getting a bit excited/nervous about going to San Diego next week. I fly out Wednesday afternoon and come back Sunday morning (non-stop; 7 hours - I haven't been on a flight that long since we flew back from South America. Funny that - we ended up in Southern California that time too)
I'm fairly happy with the paper, and I'll get some feedback from a fellow fan/scholar next week so at least I'll have someone else's perspective on what the paper reads like. I'm of course a bit nervous about presenting, particularly since the other people on my panel are more seasoned than I am at this kind of thing.
I've never been to San Diego, and when I was last in L.A., I was eleven years old, so my perspective of southern California is from a child's perspective. It will be interesting to visit a new place, and should only cost me a couple hundred dollars out of my own pocket - overall, a good value I figure. Since we only made it as far south as San Fransisco when we did our road trip year before we left, this trip will fill in another piece of California for me.
Not to mention the fact that the Pop Culture conference has a lot of really fabulous panels (and some pretty interesting people to go with them). I'm looking forward to hearing some really neat papers and meeting some neat people.
The week after PCA, I head off to Indianapolis (probably not quite so charmingly picaresque) for another conference, so today I put the finishing touches on that paper. I still have to time it, but it's in the right range.
I'm sure I'll be happy to stay home in April!
I am getting a bit excited/nervous about going to San Diego next week. I fly out Wednesday afternoon and come back Sunday morning (non-stop; 7 hours - I haven't been on a flight that long since we flew back from South America. Funny that - we ended up in Southern California that time too)
I'm fairly happy with the paper, and I'll get some feedback from a fellow fan/scholar next week so at least I'll have someone else's perspective on what the paper reads like. I'm of course a bit nervous about presenting, particularly since the other people on my panel are more seasoned than I am at this kind of thing.
I've never been to San Diego, and when I was last in L.A., I was eleven years old, so my perspective of southern California is from a child's perspective. It will be interesting to visit a new place, and should only cost me a couple hundred dollars out of my own pocket - overall, a good value I figure. Since we only made it as far south as San Fransisco when we did our road trip year before we left, this trip will fill in another piece of California for me.
Not to mention the fact that the Pop Culture conference has a lot of really fabulous panels (and some pretty interesting people to go with them). I'm looking forward to hearing some really neat papers and meeting some neat people.
The week after PCA, I head off to Indianapolis (probably not quite so charmingly picaresque) for another conference, so today I put the finishing touches on that paper. I still have to time it, but it's in the right range.
I'm sure I'll be happy to stay home in April!
Friday, March 18, 2005
Damn! I'm just confirming a stereotype!
So, I met some new people last night... okay, well, I'd met them before, but this time I actually drank with them... and I figure you don't really know people until you've drank/slept/lived with them.
Anyway, one of them said "You're Canadian, right? I knew you were Canadian because you're so nice" *minor cringe* - "nice" is an awfully not-nice word sometimes, isn't it?
So I figured when this evil test showed up in my inbox today, I could take it and I'd probably score pretty high... at least I thought so. Apparently I actually am a nice person. Damn!
I am 32% evil.
I could go either way. I have sinned quite a bit but I still have a bit of room for error. My life is a tug of war between good and evil.
Are you evil? find out at Hilowitz.com
Anyway, one of them said "You're Canadian, right? I knew you were Canadian because you're so nice" *minor cringe* - "nice" is an awfully not-nice word sometimes, isn't it?
So I figured when this evil test showed up in my inbox today, I could take it and I'd probably score pretty high... at least I thought so. Apparently I actually am a nice person. Damn!
Are you evil? find out at Hilowitz.com
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Oops!
I have several computer engineering students in my class writing reports about computer security (viruses, spyware etc.) and it just occurred to me that even though Dwayne and I both have multiple programs, the girls have minimal coverage on their computer. And they'll be more likely to fall for spyware pop-ups etc.
Guess I know what I should do tonight!
Guess I know what I should do tonight!
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Indecision bites
I've reached one of those stages again where I have so much to do, I don't know what to do first. It's a case of frozen indecision, the worst kind of fate for an overworked student because it seems so utterly ridiculous ... frozen indecision to a grad student is like writer's block to a writer... awfully easy to fall in to, hard to pinpoint why it happens, and hard to get back out of.
Typical scenario:
I've just finished reading this interesting article by Todorov...should I read the next article by Coles in the book, or read Todorov's book? Both are on my list. Which one should I do first?
Stand up, stretch, walk around the living room once, then twice.
Or maybe I should read some in one of the other areas. I haven't read a novel in a long time. Maybe I should start London Fields. Or maybe I should read the Todorov. Or maybe I should read the Coles.
Walk into the bedroom/study and see a sheaf of papers on my desk.
Maybe I should read this stack of papers instead of the Coles or the Todorov book. It would help me decide how to focus this other reading list.
Go downstairs again, fill up coffee cup, muttering to myself as I walk back up the stairs.
No, I'm not going to let myself get distracted, I'm going to read the next article in this book, the Coles, and then maybe I'll read the Todorov.
Walk into the bedroom/study, glance at another pile of books (different place from the sheaf of papers). See a book with a paper band around the front cover.
Oh! I have an interlibrary loan! I wonder when it's due? I hope it's not overdue! Or please don't let it be due tommorrow!
Walk over to the book, look at the date on the cover.
Whew! It's due in four days. Well, I guess that decides it for me. I'd better read this book before I have to return it!
Sit down and open book to table of contents.
Oh yeah, right... gotta mark papers for tomorrow too.
The disaster of frozen indecision is averted... at least for the next four days.
Typical scenario:
I've just finished reading this interesting article by Todorov...should I read the next article by Coles in the book, or read Todorov's book? Both are on my list. Which one should I do first?
Stand up, stretch, walk around the living room once, then twice.
Or maybe I should read some in one of the other areas. I haven't read a novel in a long time. Maybe I should start London Fields. Or maybe I should read the Todorov. Or maybe I should read the Coles.
Walk into the bedroom/study and see a sheaf of papers on my desk.
Maybe I should read this stack of papers instead of the Coles or the Todorov book. It would help me decide how to focus this other reading list.
Go downstairs again, fill up coffee cup, muttering to myself as I walk back up the stairs.
No, I'm not going to let myself get distracted, I'm going to read the next article in this book, the Coles, and then maybe I'll read the Todorov.
Walk into the bedroom/study, glance at another pile of books (different place from the sheaf of papers). See a book with a paper band around the front cover.
Oh! I have an interlibrary loan! I wonder when it's due? I hope it's not overdue! Or please don't let it be due tommorrow!
Walk over to the book, look at the date on the cover.
Whew! It's due in four days. Well, I guess that decides it for me. I'd better read this book before I have to return it!
Sit down and open book to table of contents.
Oh yeah, right... gotta mark papers for tomorrow too.
The disaster of frozen indecision is averted... at least for the next four days.
Saturday, March 12, 2005
Soliloquy - by Hamlet's Cat
To go outside, and there perchance to stay
Or to remain within: that is the question:
Whether 'tis better for a cat to suffer
The cuffs and buffets of inclement weather
That Nature rains upon those who roam abroad,
Or take a nap upon a scrap of carpet,
And so by dozing melt the solid hours
That clog the clock's bright gears with sullen time
And stall the dinner bell.
To sit, to stare Outdoors, and by a stare to seem to state
A wish to venture forth without delay,
Then when the portal's opened up, to stand
As if transfixed by doubt.
To prowl; to sleep;
To choose not knowing when we may once more
Our readmittance gain: aye, there's the hairball;
For if a paw were shaped to turn a knob,
Or work a lock or slip a window-catch,
And going out and coming in were made
As simple as the breaking of a bowl,
What cat would bear the household's petty plagues,
The cook's well-practiced kicks, the butler's broom,
The infant's careless pokes, the tickled ears,
The trampled tail, and all the daily shocks
That fur is heir to, when, of his own free will,
He might his exodus or entrance make
With a mere mitten?
Who would spaniels fear,
Or strays trespassing from a neighbor's yard,
But that the dread of our unheeded cries
And scratches at a barricaded door
No claw can open up, dispels our nerve
And makes us rather bear our humans' faults
Than run away to unguessed miseries?
Thus caution doth make house cats of us all;
And thus the bristling hair of resolution
Is softened up with the pale brush of thought,
And since our choices hinge on weighty things,
We pause upon the threshold of decision.
~Shakespaw~
I can understand Hamlet's Cat's difficulty in deciding whether to go or not to go. I, for one, would like to stay home given that we've been hit by yet another spring storm of wet, slushy, cold and heavy snow. My neighbor tells me she hasn't seen a winter this long, cold and wet since '95. While I'm used to long and cold, I definitely don't like the wet! (I suspect Hamlet's cat wouldn't care for it either)
Or to remain within: that is the question:
Whether 'tis better for a cat to suffer
The cuffs and buffets of inclement weather
That Nature rains upon those who roam abroad,
Or take a nap upon a scrap of carpet,
And so by dozing melt the solid hours
That clog the clock's bright gears with sullen time
And stall the dinner bell.
To sit, to stare Outdoors, and by a stare to seem to state
A wish to venture forth without delay,
Then when the portal's opened up, to stand
As if transfixed by doubt.
To prowl; to sleep;
To choose not knowing when we may once more
Our readmittance gain: aye, there's the hairball;
For if a paw were shaped to turn a knob,
Or work a lock or slip a window-catch,
And going out and coming in were made
As simple as the breaking of a bowl,
What cat would bear the household's petty plagues,
The cook's well-practiced kicks, the butler's broom,
The infant's careless pokes, the tickled ears,
The trampled tail, and all the daily shocks
That fur is heir to, when, of his own free will,
He might his exodus or entrance make
With a mere mitten?
Who would spaniels fear,
Or strays trespassing from a neighbor's yard,
But that the dread of our unheeded cries
And scratches at a barricaded door
No claw can open up, dispels our nerve
And makes us rather bear our humans' faults
Than run away to unguessed miseries?
Thus caution doth make house cats of us all;
And thus the bristling hair of resolution
Is softened up with the pale brush of thought,
And since our choices hinge on weighty things,
We pause upon the threshold of decision.
~Shakespaw~
I can understand Hamlet's Cat's difficulty in deciding whether to go or not to go. I, for one, would like to stay home given that we've been hit by yet another spring storm of wet, slushy, cold and heavy snow. My neighbor tells me she hasn't seen a winter this long, cold and wet since '95. While I'm used to long and cold, I definitely don't like the wet! (I suspect Hamlet's cat wouldn't care for it either)
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Maybe not on the same page, but at least reading the same book
Met with my supervisor today. She was happy with my reading list though she wants me to trim it (a few suggestions on what to trim, but pretty much up to me). Overall, I feel happy about the meeting - there have been a few times in the past when we met and I thought we were actually having two different conversations, but today, we were on the same page (mostly).
So, now I have several things to do:
- I have to go through the list of texts that I have and rearrange them under the new categories we discussed (this is where trimming should happen)
- Then I have to split those lists into primary and secondary novels
- Next I need to read them (okay, well, at least the ones I haven't yet read)
- After that, I need to find books on: contemporary British history/culture; criticism about representations of historical material in fiction; postmodernism; and postcolonialism *whew!*
- Then I have to give her another list.
That's all.
The other good news/bad news element (depending on whether I can pull it off) is that she is satisfied with my projected timetable for writing the exams, though I couldn't pin her down on a deadline date for submission of that second list in order to write the exam when I want to. Oh well, I suppose I can chalk it up as a successful meeting even if I didn't get that.
Oh, yeah, and she indicated I should audit a class that our new professor of Twentieth Century literature will teach when he arrives this fall. And that he will likely lead the dissertation committee. Those were two questions that I had about how his hire will impact my studies. His specialization in Irish lit, so we don't have much overlap, but his degree is officially listed as cultural studies, so he'll be a good resource for methodology more than primary textual analysis.
Perhaps I should celebrate...
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Howling shivering nighttime
Wow! Is that wind outside every howling and rattling the windows. I've had to turn the thermostat up an extra degree just to keep up with the drafts coming in from what feels like every chink of the masonry.
Ugh! I sure hope it's nicer outside tomorrow - the bus will be even more unpleasant than its usual smelly, unreliable, overcrowded condition.
Ugh! I sure hope it's nicer outside tomorrow - the bus will be even more unpleasant than its usual smelly, unreliable, overcrowded condition.
Monday, March 07, 2005
It's really just about the picture
 | You scored as Adult. The Adult ego state is the part of the personality that is most in tune with reality as it gathers information and makes decisions based on the reality of facts. People who score high in this category spend a lot of time thinking, computing and analyzing.
Interaction with Others Survey created with QuizFarm.com |
I suppose it's good that I scored as adult (since I've been one chronologically-speaking for years) but I really just like the picture that accompanies the description.
It reminds me of this one from our trip to London (outside British Museum):
Sunday, March 06, 2005
Thursday, March 03, 2005
Shock of recognition
I log onto the weather page to check out the weather and what is the featured picture at the top of the screen - only beautiful Calgary!
The images are entirely random, and if I were to refresh the page, I'd get a new one, so you can imagine how shocked I was to glance at the photo and realize it was Calgary! Looks fabulous! (though if you're one of the people living there who reads this, you know how fabulous it is...)
The images are entirely random, and if I were to refresh the page, I'd get a new one, so you can imagine how shocked I was to glance at the photo and realize it was Calgary! Looks fabulous! (though if you're one of the people living there who reads this, you know how fabulous it is...)
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Some things never change
I am making this statement as an act of willful defiance of military authority, because I believe that the War is being deliberately prolonged by those how have the power to end it. I am a soldier, convinced that I am acting on behalf of soldiers. I believe this War, upon which I entered as a war of defence and liberation, has now become a war of aggression and conquest. I believe that the purposes for which I and my fellow-soldiers entered upon this War should have been so clearly stated as to have made it impossible for them to be changed without our knowledge, and that, has this been done, the objects which actuated us would now be attainable by negotiation.
I have seen and endured the sufferings of the troops, and I can no longer be a party to prolonging those sufferings for ends which I believe to be evil and unjust.
I am not protesting against the military conduct of the War, but against the political errors and insincerities for which the fighting men are being sacrificed.
On behalf of those who are suffering now, I make this protest against the deception which is being practiced on them. Also I believe that it may help to destroy the callous complacence with which the majority of those as home regard the continuance of agonies which they do not share, and which they have not sufficient imagination to realise.
Written by Sigfried Sassoon and read to the House of Commons, July 30, 1917
By putting my weapon down, I chose to reassert myself as a human being. I have not deserted the military nor been disloyal to the men and women of the military. I have not been disloyal to a country. I have only been loyal to my principles.
When I turned myself in, with all my fears and doubts, it did it not only for myself. I did it for the people of Iraq, even for those who fired upon me – they were just on the other side of a battleground where war itself was the only enemy. I did it for the Iraqi children, who are victims of mines and depleted uranium. I did it for the thousands of unknown civilians killed in war. My time in prison is a small price compared to the price Iraqis and Americans have paid with their lives. Mine is a small price compared to the price humanity has paid for war.
To those who have called me a coward I say that they are wrong, and that without knowing it, they are also right. They are wrong when they think that I left the war for fear of being killed. I admit that fear was there, but there was also the fear of killing innocent people, the fear of putting myself in a position where to survive means to kill, there was the fear of losing my soul in the process of saving my body, the fear of losing myself to my daughter, to the people who love me, to the man I used to be, the man I wanted to be. I was afraid of waking up one morning to realize my humanity had abandoned me.
I say without any pride that I did my job as a soldier. I commanded an infantry squad in combat and we never failed to accomplish our mission. But those who called me a coward, without knowing it, are also right. I was a coward not for leaving the war, but for having been a part of it in the first place. Refusing and resisting this war was my moral duty, a moral duty that called me to take a principled action. I failed to fulfill my moral duty as a human being and instead I chose to fulfill my duty as a soldier. All because I was afraid. I was terrified; I did not want to stand up to the government and the army – I was afraid of punishment and humiliation. I went to war because at the moment I was a coward, and for that I apologize to my soldiers for not being the type of leader I should have been.
Written by Camilo Mejia, February 28, 2005 at Full article at Alternet
It's amazing how these two statements resonate with each other. Although they don't sound the same, and they aren't directed at military engagements that remotely resemble each other, they express a similar sentiment. Sometimes I think it's very easy to forget that human beings are the ones who fight wars AND are the ones who decide to start wars. Regardless of how it starts, the damage to those human beings remains the same.
Why do we do this to ourselves?
I have seen and endured the sufferings of the troops, and I can no longer be a party to prolonging those sufferings for ends which I believe to be evil and unjust.
I am not protesting against the military conduct of the War, but against the political errors and insincerities for which the fighting men are being sacrificed.
On behalf of those who are suffering now, I make this protest against the deception which is being practiced on them. Also I believe that it may help to destroy the callous complacence with which the majority of those as home regard the continuance of agonies which they do not share, and which they have not sufficient imagination to realise.
Written by Sigfried Sassoon and read to the House of Commons, July 30, 1917
By putting my weapon down, I chose to reassert myself as a human being. I have not deserted the military nor been disloyal to the men and women of the military. I have not been disloyal to a country. I have only been loyal to my principles.
When I turned myself in, with all my fears and doubts, it did it not only for myself. I did it for the people of Iraq, even for those who fired upon me – they were just on the other side of a battleground where war itself was the only enemy. I did it for the Iraqi children, who are victims of mines and depleted uranium. I did it for the thousands of unknown civilians killed in war. My time in prison is a small price compared to the price Iraqis and Americans have paid with their lives. Mine is a small price compared to the price humanity has paid for war.
To those who have called me a coward I say that they are wrong, and that without knowing it, they are also right. They are wrong when they think that I left the war for fear of being killed. I admit that fear was there, but there was also the fear of killing innocent people, the fear of putting myself in a position where to survive means to kill, there was the fear of losing my soul in the process of saving my body, the fear of losing myself to my daughter, to the people who love me, to the man I used to be, the man I wanted to be. I was afraid of waking up one morning to realize my humanity had abandoned me.
I say without any pride that I did my job as a soldier. I commanded an infantry squad in combat and we never failed to accomplish our mission. But those who called me a coward, without knowing it, are also right. I was a coward not for leaving the war, but for having been a part of it in the first place. Refusing and resisting this war was my moral duty, a moral duty that called me to take a principled action. I failed to fulfill my moral duty as a human being and instead I chose to fulfill my duty as a soldier. All because I was afraid. I was terrified; I did not want to stand up to the government and the army – I was afraid of punishment and humiliation. I went to war because at the moment I was a coward, and for that I apologize to my soldiers for not being the type of leader I should have been.
Written by Camilo Mejia, February 28, 2005 at Full article at Alternet
It's amazing how these two statements resonate with each other. Although they don't sound the same, and they aren't directed at military engagements that remotely resemble each other, they express a similar sentiment. Sometimes I think it's very easy to forget that human beings are the ones who fight wars AND are the ones who decide to start wars. Regardless of how it starts, the damage to those human beings remains the same.
Why do we do this to ourselves?
Monday, February 28, 2005
My fingers aren't working
I can't seem to type straight. My fingers feel like insensitive lumps of flesh at the end of my hand and they can't seem to translate what I am thinking into words on a page. They feel numb and fat. I keep having to go back and correct words that I've mis-typed and I'm feeling very frustrated by it.
I thought maybe I needed to limber them up, get them moving, get the blood flowing, and that would solve the problem. So I went down to the piano, thinking a half hour of playing would help.
I pulled out the bench.
It fell apart in my hands.
By the time I fixed it, I was even more frustrated, but tried to play anyway.
Didn't work. Can't type... can't play piano either.
This is going to be a very long day.
I thought maybe I needed to limber them up, get them moving, get the blood flowing, and that would solve the problem. So I went down to the piano, thinking a half hour of playing would help.
I pulled out the bench.
It fell apart in my hands.
By the time I fixed it, I was even more frustrated, but tried to play anyway.
Didn't work. Can't type... can't play piano either.
This is going to be a very long day.
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Perhaps I worry too much
In the neverending saga of the comprehensive exams - will it ever end? - I might have to rethink my schedule yet again. Last summer, I had hoped I would be ready to write by the end of this year. Then around Christmas I revised that to fall next year.
Now I'm scared it might be even later than next fall. I'm trying to figure out how Dwayne's schedule is going to impact mine. He was hoping for the summer externship slot, but instead got the fall one: Oct-Dec. It's out in Holyoke, which is about an hour and a half west of here. A long commute, so we're thinking he would go out Monday, come back Friday (there's an apartment available for the students).
So, you can guess why I'm wondering if fall is the best time for me to write. During the week, I'll be playing the single parent game again - not as hard as it would be with little kids, after all, I mostly need to make sure they eat (healthy) food and go to bed before midnight - but I still will be the only one around to field questions, dole out money, mediate endless arguments about who took who's shirt/shoes/keys, help with homework, give permission to go places etc.
And then when Dwayne comes home on the weekend, I'll want to spend time with him, so it'll be difficult to keep to a study schedule then.
Not to mention how weird it will feel to sleep alone.
Or that I'll be vehicle-less during the week.
Or that I'll just plain miss him.
I know it's a great opportunity for him (the Holyoke clinic is trés up-to-date technologically), but I can't help but feel that writing my exams under such conditions is going to just be harder than it would be otherwise.
But maybe I just worry too much - after all, I might want to write in fall, but that doesn't mean my committee will agree with me that I'm ready by then. After all, I don't even have any reading lists approved yet... unlike SOME people!
Now I'm scared it might be even later than next fall. I'm trying to figure out how Dwayne's schedule is going to impact mine. He was hoping for the summer externship slot, but instead got the fall one: Oct-Dec. It's out in Holyoke, which is about an hour and a half west of here. A long commute, so we're thinking he would go out Monday, come back Friday (there's an apartment available for the students).
So, you can guess why I'm wondering if fall is the best time for me to write. During the week, I'll be playing the single parent game again - not as hard as it would be with little kids, after all, I mostly need to make sure they eat (healthy) food and go to bed before midnight - but I still will be the only one around to field questions, dole out money, mediate endless arguments about who took who's shirt/shoes/keys, help with homework, give permission to go places etc.
And then when Dwayne comes home on the weekend, I'll want to spend time with him, so it'll be difficult to keep to a study schedule then.
Not to mention how weird it will feel to sleep alone.
Or that I'll be vehicle-less during the week.
Or that I'll just plain miss him.
I know it's a great opportunity for him (the Holyoke clinic is trés up-to-date technologically), but I can't help but feel that writing my exams under such conditions is going to just be harder than it would be otherwise.
But maybe I just worry too much - after all, I might want to write in fall, but that doesn't mean my committee will agree with me that I'm ready by then. After all, I don't even have any reading lists approved yet... unlike SOME people!
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Monday, February 21, 2005
This game has 240 hours...
When you can't get hockey on a regular basis, I guess the next best thing is to get an awful lot of it.
Which is it?
I just spent 6 hours putting together documents for a scholarship application.
Was this:
a) time well spent?
or
b) a colossal waste of time?
I suppose the answer will depend on whether I get the scholarship or not (don't hold you're breath, it's a bit of a long shot)
Was this:
a) time well spent?
or
b) a colossal waste of time?
I suppose the answer will depend on whether I get the scholarship or not (don't hold you're breath, it's a bit of a long shot)
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Wow! Did I understimate that or what?!
While looking for something else, I came across this entry where I write: "I also got a few things straightened out about next year's comprehensive exam proposals (3), but I still have to meet with at least four more people (hopefully no more than that) before I can even think about beginning to read up on the areas before writing the proposals."
Proposals? I was talking proposals back in March?
I SO did not understand what I was getting into - I haven't even started thinking about proposals... I haven't even figured out primary reading lists yet, let alone secondary ones or rationale for a proposal!
Dammit! This process is taking WAY too long! And I'm not getting any younger!
Proposals? I was talking proposals back in March?
I SO did not understand what I was getting into - I haven't even started thinking about proposals... I haven't even figured out primary reading lists yet, let alone secondary ones or rationale for a proposal!
Dammit! This process is taking WAY too long! And I'm not getting any younger!
Friday, February 18, 2005
Updating
I've been working to update my Books list - I've got all but one book (that I've finished that is) now listed in case you're interested.
My favorite recent quote? It's from Fire and Ice: “…we Canadians sometimes find our neighbours baffling. Between their rhetoric and our own (the left’s admonitions about the dangers of convergence with the gun-toting free marketers to the south, the right’s insistence that we shed our outdated national differences like garments on a long-awaited wedding night and join our industrious, innovative Yankee friends in an orgy of free trade and economic growth), Americans are reflected in so many funhouse mirrors that it would be remarkable if we saw them, collectively, as anything other than caricatures” (20).
Living here does however help smash some of those funhouse mirrors.
My favorite recent quote? It's from Fire and Ice: “…we Canadians sometimes find our neighbours baffling. Between their rhetoric and our own (the left’s admonitions about the dangers of convergence with the gun-toting free marketers to the south, the right’s insistence that we shed our outdated national differences like garments on a long-awaited wedding night and join our industrious, innovative Yankee friends in an orgy of free trade and economic growth), Americans are reflected in so many funhouse mirrors that it would be remarkable if we saw them, collectively, as anything other than caricatures” (20).
Living here does however help smash some of those funhouse mirrors.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Sharing is caring
...and cleanliness is next to godliness... blah, blah, blah
Posts have been/will be sparse for the next little while. D and I have to share a computer now because his went kaput on the weekend and with the amount we both use a computer, this one's getting a workout! So blogging is low on my list of stuff-I-need-to-do-when-I-have-the-computer.
In the meantime, in the interest of updating the aphorism in this blog post title, I give you a twenty-first century list of aphorisms:
Home is where you hang your @.
The email of the species is more deadly than the mail.
A journey of a thousand sites begins with a single click.
You can't teach a new mouse old clicks.
Don't put all your hypes in one home page.
Pentium wise; pen and paper foolish.
The modem is the message.
Too many clicks spoil the browse.
The geek shall inherit the earth.
A chat has nine lives.
Don't byte off more than you can view.
Fax is stranger than fiction.
What boots up must come down.
Windows will never cease.
Virtual reality is its own reward.
Modulation in all things.
A user and his leisure time are soon parted.
There's no place like http://www.home.com
Oh, what a tangled website we weave when first we practice.
Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach him to surf the Net, and he won't bother you for months on end.
Courtesy the nice people over at River Deep. (It you're trying to figure out the oh-so-twentieth-century versions these came from, check out their page)
Posts have been/will be sparse for the next little while. D and I have to share a computer now because his went kaput on the weekend and with the amount we both use a computer, this one's getting a workout! So blogging is low on my list of stuff-I-need-to-do-when-I-have-the-computer.
In the meantime, in the interest of updating the aphorism in this blog post title, I give you a twenty-first century list of aphorisms:
Home is where you hang your @.
The email of the species is more deadly than the mail.
A journey of a thousand sites begins with a single click.
You can't teach a new mouse old clicks.
Don't put all your hypes in one home page.
Pentium wise; pen and paper foolish.
The modem is the message.
Too many clicks spoil the browse.
The geek shall inherit the earth.
A chat has nine lives.
Don't byte off more than you can view.
Fax is stranger than fiction.
What boots up must come down.
Windows will never cease.
Virtual reality is its own reward.
Modulation in all things.
A user and his leisure time are soon parted.
There's no place like http://www.home.com
Oh, what a tangled website we weave when first we practice.
Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach him to surf the Net, and he won't bother you for months on end.
Courtesy the nice people over at River Deep. (It you're trying to figure out the oh-so-twentieth-century versions these came from, check out their page)
Monday, February 14, 2005
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Cartoons & Poetry
Plopping yourself in from of the television and watching cartoons for hours and hours until your mind is numb is a long established Saturday tradition in childhood.
I just walked past the tv where a cartoon character is discussing poetic form in William Blake.
I don't ever remember the Roadrunner or Bug Bunny discussing art, do you?
I just walked past the tv where a cartoon character is discussing poetic form in William Blake.
I don't ever remember the Roadrunner or Bug Bunny discussing art, do you?
Friday, February 11, 2005
Implicit patriotism?
I have noticed over the last two years that when people ask where we will go when we are finished school, the Americans assume we will remain in America and the Canadians assume we will return to Canada.
I, however, assume we will go where ever we can find jobs!
I, however, assume we will go where ever we can find jobs!
Monday, February 07, 2005
Playing Games
Weird coincidence today.
Bookmarked a chapter on "Games as Narrative Play" in a textbook that I want to read before I return it to the library later this week.
But while taking a break, see this article about how video games shouldn't include narrative pieces, or "cutscenes".
In the article, Thompson guesses at why games are incorporating more and longer cutscenes: These Hollywood flourishes are good for dazzling mainstream journalists and pundits. That's because there's still a weird anxiety about adults playing games. Most people still think that video games are sophomoric kid stuff; the ones that have a narrative and emulate the movies seem more serious and, well, mature.
But movie watching (especially obsessive movie watching) is still the province of the young. That's why there are so many annoying teen movies out there... and why the scripts of so many other (potentially) good movies are riddled with easy answers, implausibly happy endings, and other story killers. But I digress.
Thompson explains his objection to cutscenes as one arising directly out of their narrativity, something he implies is antithetical to the pleasure of gaming itself: Playing a game, any kind of game, is inherently open-ended and interactive. Whether you're playing chess, Go, or Super Mario Bros., you don't really know how things will wind up or what will happen along the way. Narrative, on the other hand, is neither open-ended nor interactive. When you're watching a story, you surrender masochistically to the storyteller. The fun is in not having control, in sitting still and going "Yeah? And then what happened? And then?"
That's why cut scenes are such a massive pain in the neck—they enforce passivity. There's nothing more annoying than going on a shooting spree, then having to break the rhythm of play by putting your game pad down for minutes at a time.
He does have a point. Cutscenes do require the player to sit back and stop bashing at the buttons for a few moments. But sometimes that respite is necessary. In their discussion of games, the authors of Rules of Play propose some rationales for including cutscenes: surveillance or planning tool (provide information about upcoming events), game play catapult (where the cut scene explains, or hints at the upcoming action), scene and mood setting (introducing changes to scene or increases in a particular mood as the game progresses), choice and consequence (increases 'real life' feel), rhythm and pacing (rest from intense action), and player reward (visual delight or punishment) (Salen and Zimmerman).
What Thompson is complaining about (at least in GTA San Andreas) is the last, the enforced pause in play that interrupts intense action. This complaint addresses the difference in styles of play and desire for cutscenes between novice and experienced players that Salen and Zimmerman recognize. Experienced players have built up such a familiarity with the conventions of game playing (as Thompson says, there are few 'new' games), that they do not require planning, scene setting, a break from play or a cutscene as reward for successful play. Novice players do enjoy them.
The cutscenes were the parts that I was most fascinated by with The Getaway in part simply because they were cinematic, and I found it interesting to note how my play during the active parts of the game coincided or clashed with the cutscene. Often what I was experiencing during play had very little to do with the narrative of the game, but by structuring the game around the narrative, there was a unity to the play that transcended the repetitive nature of the game. I might be shooting people and driving while playing the game, but there was a reason why I was shooting at them (or chasing them). My 'motivation' for shooting and driving within the game is not simply to complete a level and ultimately win the game, but my character in the game is shooting and chasing these people because they've wronged him. So my player motivation (getting to the next level) is reinforced by my character's motivation (to avenge himself).
I would think that this kind of narrative support for player action inherent in the creation of cutscenes would actually enhance the gaming experience because you would be playing similar games for different reasons (at least according to why your character is doing what he/she is doing). Theoretically, wouldn't the presence of narrative accentuate the uniqueness of each game within a particular genre by providing a different motivation?
But I'm a novice gamer (very novice!), so perhaps there is some part of my argument that is missing because I lack the experience to see it. Thoughts?
Bookmarked a chapter on "Games as Narrative Play" in a textbook that I want to read before I return it to the library later this week.
But while taking a break, see this article about how video games shouldn't include narrative pieces, or "cutscenes".
In the article, Thompson guesses at why games are incorporating more and longer cutscenes: These Hollywood flourishes are good for dazzling mainstream journalists and pundits. That's because there's still a weird anxiety about adults playing games. Most people still think that video games are sophomoric kid stuff; the ones that have a narrative and emulate the movies seem more serious and, well, mature.
But movie watching (especially obsessive movie watching) is still the province of the young. That's why there are so many annoying teen movies out there... and why the scripts of so many other (potentially) good movies are riddled with easy answers, implausibly happy endings, and other story killers. But I digress.
Thompson explains his objection to cutscenes as one arising directly out of their narrativity, something he implies is antithetical to the pleasure of gaming itself: Playing a game, any kind of game, is inherently open-ended and interactive. Whether you're playing chess, Go, or Super Mario Bros., you don't really know how things will wind up or what will happen along the way. Narrative, on the other hand, is neither open-ended nor interactive. When you're watching a story, you surrender masochistically to the storyteller. The fun is in not having control, in sitting still and going "Yeah? And then what happened? And then?"
That's why cut scenes are such a massive pain in the neck—they enforce passivity. There's nothing more annoying than going on a shooting spree, then having to break the rhythm of play by putting your game pad down for minutes at a time.
He does have a point. Cutscenes do require the player to sit back and stop bashing at the buttons for a few moments. But sometimes that respite is necessary. In their discussion of games, the authors of Rules of Play propose some rationales for including cutscenes: surveillance or planning tool (provide information about upcoming events), game play catapult (where the cut scene explains, or hints at the upcoming action), scene and mood setting (introducing changes to scene or increases in a particular mood as the game progresses), choice and consequence (increases 'real life' feel), rhythm and pacing (rest from intense action), and player reward (visual delight or punishment) (Salen and Zimmerman).
What Thompson is complaining about (at least in GTA San Andreas) is the last, the enforced pause in play that interrupts intense action. This complaint addresses the difference in styles of play and desire for cutscenes between novice and experienced players that Salen and Zimmerman recognize. Experienced players have built up such a familiarity with the conventions of game playing (as Thompson says, there are few 'new' games), that they do not require planning, scene setting, a break from play or a cutscene as reward for successful play. Novice players do enjoy them.
The cutscenes were the parts that I was most fascinated by with The Getaway in part simply because they were cinematic, and I found it interesting to note how my play during the active parts of the game coincided or clashed with the cutscene. Often what I was experiencing during play had very little to do with the narrative of the game, but by structuring the game around the narrative, there was a unity to the play that transcended the repetitive nature of the game. I might be shooting people and driving while playing the game, but there was a reason why I was shooting at them (or chasing them). My 'motivation' for shooting and driving within the game is not simply to complete a level and ultimately win the game, but my character in the game is shooting and chasing these people because they've wronged him. So my player motivation (getting to the next level) is reinforced by my character's motivation (to avenge himself).
I would think that this kind of narrative support for player action inherent in the creation of cutscenes would actually enhance the gaming experience because you would be playing similar games for different reasons (at least according to why your character is doing what he/she is doing). Theoretically, wouldn't the presence of narrative accentuate the uniqueness of each game within a particular genre by providing a different motivation?
But I'm a novice gamer (very novice!), so perhaps there is some part of my argument that is missing because I lack the experience to see it. Thoughts?
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Good weekend
Well, it's not over yet, but I think it's fair to say this has been a pretty good weekend. I am trying to get a lot of work done today (hence giving up on invitations to Superbowl parties), but getting a lot done will feel good too.
Yesterday was fun - spent the afternoon with good friends and the evening with my family. Ate way too much. Drank not too much. Just a really, comfortable, happy, good time. (Much, much better than last year's birtday - in fact, I kept this year pretty low key mostly because I was paranoid that my plans would all fall apart again this year - part of my satisfaction with the day was that they didn't.)
Today, much work. It seems the more I accomplish, the more I think I still need to do. Will it ever end? Something similar to what's going on here with Cecilia keeps me coming back to the work though... time's winged chariot and all that.
Odd theme developed in my gift receiving however: received four movies: Quills, Identity, The Secret Window, and Eddie Izzard's Unrepeatable. First one: crazy guy. Second one: crazy people. Third one: Crazy guy. Fourth one: (up till a few decades ago, the DSM III would've labelled) crazy guy.
Meaning?
Maybe I don't want to know!
Yesterday was fun - spent the afternoon with good friends and the evening with my family. Ate way too much. Drank not too much. Just a really, comfortable, happy, good time. (Much, much better than last year's birtday - in fact, I kept this year pretty low key mostly because I was paranoid that my plans would all fall apart again this year - part of my satisfaction with the day was that they didn't.)
Today, much work. It seems the more I accomplish, the more I think I still need to do. Will it ever end? Something similar to what's going on here with Cecilia keeps me coming back to the work though... time's winged chariot and all that.
Odd theme developed in my gift receiving however: received four movies: Quills, Identity, The Secret Window, and Eddie Izzard's Unrepeatable. First one: crazy guy. Second one: crazy people. Third one: Crazy guy. Fourth one: (up till a few decades ago, the DSM III would've labelled) crazy guy.
Meaning?
Maybe I don't want to know!
Thursday, February 03, 2005
The ol' nature vs nurture scuffle
Got an email telling me how my cousin's adopted son has been having violent episodes and they are becoming frustrated. Okay, so I can understand that. Parenting is hard. Parenting someone else's kids is even harder (I've seen both sides of that one). Parenting someone else's kids who no longer wants them and you've adopted/fostered must be even harder.
But what got me was the part of the email where she describes the "issues" that might account for why her foster son has violent episodes: "abandonment, illegitimate birth, birth parents are both of a violent nature/violent lifestyle"
???
Okay, so I can see abandonment and witnessing a violent home life ("lifestyle") as reasons why a child might be acting violent. But how does the absence of a piece of paper conferring certain rights and responsibilities upon his parents, a piece of paper that is simply a social convention, account for a violent child? Does the child know this? Is his violence a rebellion against his parents's disregard for this cultural norm? Did he as a fetus recognize that he was in the womb of a woman who did not possess such a paper? What was it?
I'd like to be generous and explain that perhaps she meant something else and it was just a case of bad wording... but having grown up in the kind of environment that she lives in, I doubt it was meant as anything than what it sounds like: a moral judgment of someone else's choices in life, a blaming of the 'sins of the father' on the child. An essentialist notion that does nothing to address the issues her adopted son is facing right now.
Reminds me of the comments made a couple of weeks ago by Harvard University president Summers who seemed to imply in his address at an economics conference that women aren't genetically capable of filling his shoes. Nice refutations: Pharyngula and Michael Berube.
All I can say? Wow. I thought this was the twenty-first century.
But what got me was the part of the email where she describes the "issues" that might account for why her foster son has violent episodes: "abandonment, illegitimate birth, birth parents are both of a violent nature/violent lifestyle"
???
Okay, so I can see abandonment and witnessing a violent home life ("lifestyle") as reasons why a child might be acting violent. But how does the absence of a piece of paper conferring certain rights and responsibilities upon his parents, a piece of paper that is simply a social convention, account for a violent child? Does the child know this? Is his violence a rebellion against his parents's disregard for this cultural norm? Did he as a fetus recognize that he was in the womb of a woman who did not possess such a paper? What was it?
I'd like to be generous and explain that perhaps she meant something else and it was just a case of bad wording... but having grown up in the kind of environment that she lives in, I doubt it was meant as anything than what it sounds like: a moral judgment of someone else's choices in life, a blaming of the 'sins of the father' on the child. An essentialist notion that does nothing to address the issues her adopted son is facing right now.
Reminds me of the comments made a couple of weeks ago by Harvard University president Summers who seemed to imply in his address at an economics conference that women aren't genetically capable of filling his shoes. Nice refutations: Pharyngula and Michael Berube.
All I can say? Wow. I thought this was the twenty-first century.
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Finally!
Finished a 922 page book today.
Sad part is, I began it in September.
But in all fairness to my feeble brain power (as evidenced by such a slow rate of reading) it was ALL lit theory and included this quotation as well as other similar mind-numb-ers.
Sad part is, I began it in September.
But in all fairness to my feeble brain power (as evidenced by such a slow rate of reading) it was ALL lit theory and included this quotation as well as other similar mind-numb-ers.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Uninteresting stuff
I don't really have anything interesting to say, but there are some things that are happening... all rather mundane.
We rearranged our living room/dining room area - it feels like we have more room, but I lost about a shelf of book space. We'll see if it improves living in cramped quarters at all.
The girls now have a computer than can access the internet - and it even has an ethernet card, so they don't have to dial up anymore.
I'm behind in my reading... again!
I got invited to two superbowl parties. Now I not only have to decide if I want to watch the game, but whether I want to watch it with other people, and then, which people I want to watch it with.
So far, my only birthday plans are to go out for lunch.
We rearranged our living room/dining room area - it feels like we have more room, but I lost about a shelf of book space. We'll see if it improves living in cramped quarters at all.
The girls now have a computer than can access the internet - and it even has an ethernet card, so they don't have to dial up anymore.
I'm behind in my reading... again!
I got invited to two superbowl parties. Now I not only have to decide if I want to watch the game, but whether I want to watch it with other people, and then, which people I want to watch it with.
So far, my only birthday plans are to go out for lunch.
Saturday, January 29, 2005
truth or fiction?
So I heard this lawyer talking about protecting yourself against lawsuits today. Why, you might ask, do you need to protect yourself against frivolous lawsuits, Michele? Not me! But my wonderful hubby will need malpractic insurance when he gets done. (I can't possibly think of anything in my line of work that could get me sued AND be covered by an insurance policy - if you think of something, let me know though, okay?)
During the talk he tells us of the Stella awards... they're named for Stella Liebeck, the woman who sued McDonald's over the heat of their coffee.
BUT what he told us was about an urban myth. He told us about a plaintiff who sued Winnebago because she (he) thought 'cruise control' was like 'autopilot' and left the driver's seat of the moving vehicle to go to the back and make coffee. Looks like that never happened... but it makes a great story.
Frivolous lawsuits are filed all the time, but they're often thrown out before they even go to trial (a good thing) and the ones that actually take up court time are usually a bit less dramatic (and frequently don't involve individuals), like the following:
Allstate sued Kraft Foods, the maker of the Toastette toaster pastry, and Pop-Tart creator Kellogg to avoid having to pay homeowners' fire claims. Allstate claimed Kraft and Kellogg were responsible for the fires by making dangerous, flammable toaster pastries.
Caterpillar sued the Walt Disney company for portraying bulldozers in a bad light. Caterpillar tried to block the release of "George of the Jungle 2," claiming that the film gave the company a bad name because its machines are used to attack the jungle. A judge found that "even the most credulous viewer" would understand that the people operating the machinery, and not the machinery itself, intended to destroy the jungle.
Mattel sued artist Tom Forsythe for his photographs of Barbie in poses the toymaker claimed defamed her character. The toymaker also sued recording label MCA when musical group Aqua released the song "Barbie Girl" that the company claimed defamed the doll with sexual innuendo. Both suits were dismissed, and Mattel had to pay $1.8 million to the artist in attorney fees, for trying to intimidate him into not using Barbie's image in his art.
Kellogg's sued the owners of Toucan Golf for trademark infringement. The cereal maker claimed that its Toucan Sam logo for the Froot Loops cereal would be damaged by Toucan Golf's golf-playing bird. A court found that no one could possibly confuse breakfast cereal and golfing.
Amway and Proctor & Gamble are engaged in an ongoing fight -- which has encompassed 20 years and has stretched to the courts -- over rumors that P&G is in league with Satan. P&G claims that Amway is accusing it of ties to Lucifer. A judge dismissed the fight's most recent incarnation in court, and expressed her hope that the corporate giants would continue their fight at the commercial level, and stop wasting judicial resources.
From the Foundation for Consumer and Taxpayer Rights
The urban myth includes such eye-poppers as the following (you'll see the Winnebago at the bottom):
The Stella Award
It's once again time to review the winners of the annual Stella Awards. The Stellas' are named! after 81 year old Stella Liebeck who spilled coffee on herself and successfully sued McDonald's.
That case inspired the Stella Awards for the most frivolous successful lawsuits in the United States. Unfortunately the most recent lawsuit implicating McDonald's, the teens who allege that eating at McDonald's has made them fat, was filed after the 2003 award voting was closed. This suit will top the 2004 awards list without question.
THIS YEAR'S AWARDS GO TO ...
5TH PLACE(TIED): Kathleen Robertson of Austin, Texas was awarded $780,000 by a jury of her peers after breaking her ankle tripping over a toddler who was running inside a furniture store. The owners of the store were understandably surprised at the verdict, considering the misbehaving toddler was Ms. Robertson's Son.
5TH PLACE(TIED): 19 year old Carl Truman of Los Angeles won $74,000 and medical expenses when his neighbor ran over his hand with a Honda Accord. Mr. Truman apparently did not notice there was someone at the wheel of the car when he was trying to steal the hubcaps.
5TH PLACE(TIED): Terrence Dickson of Bristol, Pennsylvania was leaving a house he had just finished robbing by way of the garage. He was not able to get the garage door to go up since the automatic door Opener was malfunctioning. He could not re-enter the house because the door connecting the house and garage locked when he pulled it shut. The family was on vacation and Mr. Dickson found himself locked in the garage for 8 days. He subsisted on a case of Pepsi he found and a large bag of dry dog food. He sued the homeowner's insurance claiming the situation caused him undue ! mental anguish. The Jury agreed to the tune of $500,000.
4TH PLACE: Jerry Williams of Little Rock, Arkansas was awarded $14,500 and medical expenses after being bitten on the buttocks by his next door neighbor's Beagle dog. The Beagle was on a chain in its owner's fenced yard. The award was less than sought because the jury felt the dog might have been a little provoked at the time as Mr. Williams, who had climbed over the fence into the yard, was shooting it repeatedly with a pellet gun.
3RD PLACE: A Philadelphia restaurant was ordered to pay Amber Carson of Lancaster, Pennsylvania $113,500 after she slipped on a soft drink and broke her coccyx (tailbone). The beverage was on the floor because Ms. Carson had thrown it at her boyfriend 30 seconds earlier, during an argument.
2ND PLACE: Kara Walton of Claymont, Delaware sued the owner of a Night Club in a neighboring city when she fell from the bathroom window to the floor and knocked out two of her front teeth. This occurred while Ms. Walton was trying to sneak in the window of the Ladies Room to avoid paying the $3.50 cover charge. She was awarded $12,000 and dental expenses.
1ST PLACE: This year's runaway winner was Mr. Merv Grazinski of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. Mr. Grazinski purchased a brand new Winnebago Motor home. On his trip home from an OU football game, having driven onto the freeway, he set the cruise control at 70 mph and calmly left the driver's seat to go into the back and make himself a cup of coffee. Not surprisingly the RV left the freeway, crashed and overturned. Mr. Grazinski sued Winnebago for not advising him in the owner's manual that he could not actually do this. The jury awarded him $1,750,000 plus a new Winnebago Motor home. The company actually changed their manuals on the basis of this suit just in case there were any other complete morons buying their recreational vehicles.
BUT, snopes.com (which I have a great deal of trust for) indicates that these stories are false. They do have some interesting real stories at the bottom of their page about the Stella Awards though.
During the talk he tells us of the Stella awards... they're named for Stella Liebeck, the woman who sued McDonald's over the heat of their coffee.
BUT what he told us was about an urban myth. He told us about a plaintiff who sued Winnebago because she (he) thought 'cruise control' was like 'autopilot' and left the driver's seat of the moving vehicle to go to the back and make coffee. Looks like that never happened... but it makes a great story.
Frivolous lawsuits are filed all the time, but they're often thrown out before they even go to trial (a good thing) and the ones that actually take up court time are usually a bit less dramatic (and frequently don't involve individuals), like the following:
Allstate sued Kraft Foods, the maker of the Toastette toaster pastry, and Pop-Tart creator Kellogg to avoid having to pay homeowners' fire claims. Allstate claimed Kraft and Kellogg were responsible for the fires by making dangerous, flammable toaster pastries.
Caterpillar sued the Walt Disney company for portraying bulldozers in a bad light. Caterpillar tried to block the release of "George of the Jungle 2," claiming that the film gave the company a bad name because its machines are used to attack the jungle. A judge found that "even the most credulous viewer" would understand that the people operating the machinery, and not the machinery itself, intended to destroy the jungle.
Mattel sued artist Tom Forsythe for his photographs of Barbie in poses the toymaker claimed defamed her character. The toymaker also sued recording label MCA when musical group Aqua released the song "Barbie Girl" that the company claimed defamed the doll with sexual innuendo. Both suits were dismissed, and Mattel had to pay $1.8 million to the artist in attorney fees, for trying to intimidate him into not using Barbie's image in his art.
Kellogg's sued the owners of Toucan Golf for trademark infringement. The cereal maker claimed that its Toucan Sam logo for the Froot Loops cereal would be damaged by Toucan Golf's golf-playing bird. A court found that no one could possibly confuse breakfast cereal and golfing.
Amway and Proctor & Gamble are engaged in an ongoing fight -- which has encompassed 20 years and has stretched to the courts -- over rumors that P&G is in league with Satan. P&G claims that Amway is accusing it of ties to Lucifer. A judge dismissed the fight's most recent incarnation in court, and expressed her hope that the corporate giants would continue their fight at the commercial level, and stop wasting judicial resources.
From the Foundation for Consumer and Taxpayer Rights
The urban myth includes such eye-poppers as the following (you'll see the Winnebago at the bottom):
The Stella Award
It's once again time to review the winners of the annual Stella Awards. The Stellas' are named! after 81 year old Stella Liebeck who spilled coffee on herself and successfully sued McDonald's.
That case inspired the Stella Awards for the most frivolous successful lawsuits in the United States. Unfortunately the most recent lawsuit implicating McDonald's, the teens who allege that eating at McDonald's has made them fat, was filed after the 2003 award voting was closed. This suit will top the 2004 awards list without question.
THIS YEAR'S AWARDS GO TO ...
5TH PLACE(TIED): Kathleen Robertson of Austin, Texas was awarded $780,000 by a jury of her peers after breaking her ankle tripping over a toddler who was running inside a furniture store. The owners of the store were understandably surprised at the verdict, considering the misbehaving toddler was Ms. Robertson's Son.
5TH PLACE(TIED): 19 year old Carl Truman of Los Angeles won $74,000 and medical expenses when his neighbor ran over his hand with a Honda Accord. Mr. Truman apparently did not notice there was someone at the wheel of the car when he was trying to steal the hubcaps.
5TH PLACE(TIED): Terrence Dickson of Bristol, Pennsylvania was leaving a house he had just finished robbing by way of the garage. He was not able to get the garage door to go up since the automatic door Opener was malfunctioning. He could not re-enter the house because the door connecting the house and garage locked when he pulled it shut. The family was on vacation and Mr. Dickson found himself locked in the garage for 8 days. He subsisted on a case of Pepsi he found and a large bag of dry dog food. He sued the homeowner's insurance claiming the situation caused him undue ! mental anguish. The Jury agreed to the tune of $500,000.
4TH PLACE: Jerry Williams of Little Rock, Arkansas was awarded $14,500 and medical expenses after being bitten on the buttocks by his next door neighbor's Beagle dog. The Beagle was on a chain in its owner's fenced yard. The award was less than sought because the jury felt the dog might have been a little provoked at the time as Mr. Williams, who had climbed over the fence into the yard, was shooting it repeatedly with a pellet gun.
3RD PLACE: A Philadelphia restaurant was ordered to pay Amber Carson of Lancaster, Pennsylvania $113,500 after she slipped on a soft drink and broke her coccyx (tailbone). The beverage was on the floor because Ms. Carson had thrown it at her boyfriend 30 seconds earlier, during an argument.
2ND PLACE: Kara Walton of Claymont, Delaware sued the owner of a Night Club in a neighboring city when she fell from the bathroom window to the floor and knocked out two of her front teeth. This occurred while Ms. Walton was trying to sneak in the window of the Ladies Room to avoid paying the $3.50 cover charge. She was awarded $12,000 and dental expenses.
1ST PLACE: This year's runaway winner was Mr. Merv Grazinski of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. Mr. Grazinski purchased a brand new Winnebago Motor home. On his trip home from an OU football game, having driven onto the freeway, he set the cruise control at 70 mph and calmly left the driver's seat to go into the back and make himself a cup of coffee. Not surprisingly the RV left the freeway, crashed and overturned. Mr. Grazinski sued Winnebago for not advising him in the owner's manual that he could not actually do this. The jury awarded him $1,750,000 plus a new Winnebago Motor home. The company actually changed their manuals on the basis of this suit just in case there were any other complete morons buying their recreational vehicles.
BUT, snopes.com (which I have a great deal of trust for) indicates that these stories are false. They do have some interesting real stories at the bottom of their page about the Stella Awards though.
Friday, January 28, 2005
Blocked blogger
Haven't blogged in what, a week?
Very busy.
Nothing interesting to say.
Maybe better luck tomorrow.
Very busy.
Nothing interesting to say.
Maybe better luck tomorrow.
Friday, January 21, 2005
Chronology of a crisis, Vancouver Island-style
5:35 pm. Environment Canada predicts two to five centimetres of snow will fall on Victoria within a 24-hour period. Ed Bain reads the forecast on-air , turns white and faints.
5:40 pm. Victoria Mayor Alan Lowe issues immediate appeal for federal assistance. Prime Minister Paul Martin promises to send in the army.
8:45 pm. Victorians begin queuing at tire stores, leaving vehicles in line overnight to be first served in morning.
10:15 pm. It turns out B.C.'s last army base, CFB Chilliwack,closed in 1998. Martin promises to send in the navy instead.
10:20 pm. Navy announces deployment to San Diego and Hawaii for "security reasons." Leader Stephen Harper suggests prime minister call Quebec advertising agencies to shovel snow, "since that's where the Liberals are spending all our money anyway."
6:22 am. Temperature plunges. Word spreads that Saanich man found ice on windshield. Curious neighbours gather to watch him scrape it off with credit card. One motorist, a former Albertan, claims use of mysterious "defrost" switch on dashboard can aid in process.
8:15 am. Terrified downtown skateboarders lose toques to menacing mob of balding, middle-aged men. "We tried to run," they say, "but those stupid baggy-assed pants made us fall down."
9:30 am. Hardware stores sell both of the snow shovels. Islanders begin cobbling together implements made from kayak paddles, umbrellas, plywood, cookie sheets and boogie boards.
10:00 am. Golfers switch to orange balls. Beacon Hill Park cricket players, anxious not to repeat the ugly "snow-blower incident" of the Blizzard of '96, switch to orange uniforms.
Noon. Word of impending West Coast snowfall tops newscasts across Canada. Saskatoon hospitals report epidemic of sprained wrists related to viewers high-fiving one another.
1:20 pm. Elementary schools call in grief counselors. Grief counselors refuse to go, citing lack of snow tires.
2:30 pm. Rush hour begins an hour early as office workers come down with mysterious illness and bolt for home. Usual traffic snarl is compounded by large number of four-wheel-drives abandoned by side of road.
2:50 pm. Airplanes grounded and ferries docked. No way to travel between Island and rest of the world. Times Colonist headline: Mainland Cut Off From Civilization.
3:22 pm. Prime Minister Martin announces Canada's DART rapid response team can be on the ground within six months. "We can't leave Victoria to deal with 225 centimetres of snow on its own," he tells Lowe."Um, that's two-to-five centimetres, not two-two-five," replies the mayor. The prime minister hangs up.
3:33 pm. Provincial government responds to crisis by installing slot machines in homeless shelters.
3:45 pm. Builders of new arena announce weather-related delays will push completion date back to July 2008.
4:10 pm. At behest of Provincial Emergency Program, authorities begin adding Prozac to drinking water.
4:15 pm. Fears of food shortage lead to alarming scenes of violence and looting. Grocery shoppers riot across the city, except in Oak Bay, where residents hire caterers to do the rioting for them.
4:30 pm. Bracing for the arrival of snow, the city is gripped by an eerie stillness reminiscent of Baghdad on the eve of the invasion. Searchlights comb darkening sky for first sign of precipitation.
4:48 pm. Panic ripples across region as word comes in that first flakes have fallen on Malahat. False alarm. "Flakes" turn out to be nothing more than anthrax spores released by terrorists. An uneasy calm returns to city.
5:40 pm. Ed Bain, shaking uncontrollably, tells viewers that snow warning has been extended. This weather pattern could go on for days. Mercury plummets to Calgary-in-August levels. Martial law is declared. Victoria-area politicians announce plans to establish emergency command centre aboard HMCS Regina once it reaches Oahu.
*Thanks to Rob for the forward
5:40 pm. Victoria Mayor Alan Lowe issues immediate appeal for federal assistance. Prime Minister Paul Martin promises to send in the army.
8:45 pm. Victorians begin queuing at tire stores, leaving vehicles in line overnight to be first served in morning.
10:15 pm. It turns out B.C.'s last army base, CFB Chilliwack,closed in 1998. Martin promises to send in the navy instead.
10:20 pm. Navy announces deployment to San Diego and Hawaii for "security reasons." Leader Stephen Harper suggests prime minister call Quebec advertising agencies to shovel snow, "since that's where the Liberals are spending all our money anyway."
6:22 am. Temperature plunges. Word spreads that Saanich man found ice on windshield. Curious neighbours gather to watch him scrape it off with credit card. One motorist, a former Albertan, claims use of mysterious "defrost" switch on dashboard can aid in process.
8:15 am. Terrified downtown skateboarders lose toques to menacing mob of balding, middle-aged men. "We tried to run," they say, "but those stupid baggy-assed pants made us fall down."
9:30 am. Hardware stores sell both of the snow shovels. Islanders begin cobbling together implements made from kayak paddles, umbrellas, plywood, cookie sheets and boogie boards.
10:00 am. Golfers switch to orange balls. Beacon Hill Park cricket players, anxious not to repeat the ugly "snow-blower incident" of the Blizzard of '96, switch to orange uniforms.
Noon. Word of impending West Coast snowfall tops newscasts across Canada. Saskatoon hospitals report epidemic of sprained wrists related to viewers high-fiving one another.
1:20 pm. Elementary schools call in grief counselors. Grief counselors refuse to go, citing lack of snow tires.
2:30 pm. Rush hour begins an hour early as office workers come down with mysterious illness and bolt for home. Usual traffic snarl is compounded by large number of four-wheel-drives abandoned by side of road.
2:50 pm. Airplanes grounded and ferries docked. No way to travel between Island and rest of the world. Times Colonist headline: Mainland Cut Off From Civilization.
3:22 pm. Prime Minister Martin announces Canada's DART rapid response team can be on the ground within six months. "We can't leave Victoria to deal with 225 centimetres of snow on its own," he tells Lowe."Um, that's two-to-five centimetres, not two-two-five," replies the mayor. The prime minister hangs up.
3:33 pm. Provincial government responds to crisis by installing slot machines in homeless shelters.
3:45 pm. Builders of new arena announce weather-related delays will push completion date back to July 2008.
4:10 pm. At behest of Provincial Emergency Program, authorities begin adding Prozac to drinking water.
4:15 pm. Fears of food shortage lead to alarming scenes of violence and looting. Grocery shoppers riot across the city, except in Oak Bay, where residents hire caterers to do the rioting for them.
4:30 pm. Bracing for the arrival of snow, the city is gripped by an eerie stillness reminiscent of Baghdad on the eve of the invasion. Searchlights comb darkening sky for first sign of precipitation.
4:48 pm. Panic ripples across region as word comes in that first flakes have fallen on Malahat. False alarm. "Flakes" turn out to be nothing more than anthrax spores released by terrorists. An uneasy calm returns to city.
5:40 pm. Ed Bain, shaking uncontrollably, tells viewers that snow warning has been extended. This weather pattern could go on for days. Mercury plummets to Calgary-in-August levels. Martial law is declared. Victoria-area politicians announce plans to establish emergency command centre aboard HMCS Regina once it reaches Oahu.
*Thanks to Rob for the forward
Thursday, January 20, 2005
A PhD is a desert wasteland
So much of my work is solitary. I like talking to other people about stuff I've read (that'd be why I belong to a couple of book clubs), but there's only so much talking that you can do as a student of literature. Conferences are cool in that they're a chance not only to talk about things you've been working on, but also hear what other people are doing.
Much more of your time is spent reading...all alone. Before you can talk about a book, you have to have read it, right? And sometimes after you've read it, you need to write about it...another solitary activity.
The worst part? All that sedentariness tends to make your ass grow on top of everything. I actually have found I need to get out and go to the gym - my legs will start twitching and aching when I don't. I suppose that's a good thing (the exercise, that is).
But it's a lot of hard work done without the benefit of coworkers or companions like you might have in any other line of work.
So when I see an article like this, that describes how one senior employee in the government managed to get a six figure position by earning a PhD that took five hours and a 2,000 (yes, two thousand) word dissertation to complete, it gets really depressing.
[To put it in context, that dissertation is eight times longer than this post] Hmmmm, I seem to be doing a whole lot more than that for mine!
Much more of your time is spent reading...all alone. Before you can talk about a book, you have to have read it, right? And sometimes after you've read it, you need to write about it...another solitary activity.
The worst part? All that sedentariness tends to make your ass grow on top of everything. I actually have found I need to get out and go to the gym - my legs will start twitching and aching when I don't. I suppose that's a good thing (the exercise, that is).
But it's a lot of hard work done without the benefit of coworkers or companions like you might have in any other line of work.
So when I see an article like this, that describes how one senior employee in the government managed to get a six figure position by earning a PhD that took five hours and a 2,000 (yes, two thousand) word dissertation to complete, it gets really depressing.
[To put it in context, that dissertation is eight times longer than this post] Hmmmm, I seem to be doing a whole lot more than that for mine!
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Sad news
My grandmother died about a half hour ago. She was sick for a long time.
My mother has been with her for the last three days, but my father may have difficulty joining them because the weather is very bad. I hope all my relatives can safely travel for the funeral.
I now have no grandparents left.
I am still luckier than many people I know to have so many in my family still with us and in good health.
My mother has been with her for the last three days, but my father may have difficulty joining them because the weather is very bad. I hope all my relatives can safely travel for the funeral.
I now have no grandparents left.
I am still luckier than many people I know to have so many in my family still with us and in good health.
Sunday, January 16, 2005
Clueless about my birthday
During dinner tonight, my kids were talking about when people turn fifty.
They then turned to me and asked, "what do you want for your birthday?"
Ouch!
[Actually, they were talking about their dad turning 50, and since our birthdays are only 2 days apart, it's natural they would next think of me... but I didn't catch the bit about it being their dad that they were talking about...]
They then turned to me and asked, "what do you want for your birthday?"
Ouch!
[Actually, they were talking about their dad turning 50, and since our birthdays are only 2 days apart, it's natural they would next think of me... but I didn't catch the bit about it being their dad that they were talking about...]
Saturday, January 15, 2005
Ah! there's nothing like a little Marxism in the morning!
I've come to the conclusion that I am Marxist-illiterate. It's the only possible explanation for my seeming inability to understand anything that a Marxist critic says.
Okay, maybe I should qualify that: I can't seem to follow the arguments of Marxist literary critics. I'll be reading and find myself thinking 'he's talking about the author here...but I thought we were talking about books. Where did that change?' and other such moments of disorientation. It's as if my brain takes a vacation each time there's a change in example, attention, or focus within a given section.
With other theorists, I can usually see (at least vaguely) where they are going, and can connect what I'm reading at the moment to what came earlier. But with Marxists, I find myself repeatedly unable to follow the shifts. It feels like a series of unconnected paragraphs strung together - I can usually understand what's going on within a given paragraph, but it's relationship to the previous one is a complete mystery.
Hence I take these long, huge pages of notes, hoping to make sense of it in the end.
But it rarely happens.
I always feel like there's something I'm missing - that I've simplified things too much and I'm missing a more subtle argument somehow. Everything I write down feels like soundbites, or just random bits of information that don't cohere around a single (or even multiple) unifying points in the work. Even whole books (and I read two whole books by Marxist theorists last year) seem to evade my intelletual grasp.
Perhaps I'm too deeply indoctrinated into the fascist ideology of capitalism to ever understand!
Okay, maybe I should qualify that: I can't seem to follow the arguments of Marxist literary critics. I'll be reading and find myself thinking 'he's talking about the author here...but I thought we were talking about books. Where did that change?' and other such moments of disorientation. It's as if my brain takes a vacation each time there's a change in example, attention, or focus within a given section.
With other theorists, I can usually see (at least vaguely) where they are going, and can connect what I'm reading at the moment to what came earlier. But with Marxists, I find myself repeatedly unable to follow the shifts. It feels like a series of unconnected paragraphs strung together - I can usually understand what's going on within a given paragraph, but it's relationship to the previous one is a complete mystery.
Hence I take these long, huge pages of notes, hoping to make sense of it in the end.
But it rarely happens.
I always feel like there's something I'm missing - that I've simplified things too much and I'm missing a more subtle argument somehow. Everything I write down feels like soundbites, or just random bits of information that don't cohere around a single (or even multiple) unifying points in the work. Even whole books (and I read two whole books by Marxist theorists last year) seem to evade my intelletual grasp.
Perhaps I'm too deeply indoctrinated into the fascist ideology of capitalism to ever understand!
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
I am so boring
I'd say the most interesting thing I did today was book my flight to San Diego in March. The rest of the day, I sat and read, and read, and read, and now I feel cross-eyed. It's time to do something else.
I got the flight for a VERY good price though, which makes me happy. I've been checking prices since before Christmas, and basically getting the same thing every time. Then today, I checked and I found a fare at LESS THAN HALF the fares I'd been seeing - so I figured I should jump on it. The flight down is timed really nice, but the one back is non-stop and starts at 7 am - blech - I'm not a morning person. But at least it's on the way home, and I can be all comfy-at-home at the end of it. Better than a flight that sucks when you're going someplace strange.
I also found the program for the conference, which has some very cool sessions...can you find mine?
Some of my favorite titles so far:
Dead Rebs, Magical Realism, and the Blue Plate Special: Burke’s Electric Mist
Mickey and Minnie Aren’t Married?!: Disney Scholarship and the Culture Wars
Strange Bedfellows: Mikhail Bakhtin and Alanis Morissette, Strange Bedfellows
Essential Contradiction: Perceptions of the Spiritual and the Absolute in John Coltrane's Love Supreme and Iron Maiden's Number of the Beast
I got the flight for a VERY good price though, which makes me happy. I've been checking prices since before Christmas, and basically getting the same thing every time. Then today, I checked and I found a fare at LESS THAN HALF the fares I'd been seeing - so I figured I should jump on it. The flight down is timed really nice, but the one back is non-stop and starts at 7 am - blech - I'm not a morning person. But at least it's on the way home, and I can be all comfy-at-home at the end of it. Better than a flight that sucks when you're going someplace strange.
I also found the program for the conference, which has some very cool sessions...can you find mine?
Some of my favorite titles so far:
Dead Rebs, Magical Realism, and the Blue Plate Special: Burke’s Electric Mist
Mickey and Minnie Aren’t Married?!: Disney Scholarship and the Culture Wars
Strange Bedfellows: Mikhail Bakhtin and Alanis Morissette, Strange Bedfellows
Essential Contradiction: Perceptions of the Spiritual and the Absolute in John Coltrane's Love Supreme and Iron Maiden's Number of the Beast
Sunday, January 09, 2005
Deliberate Obscurity
I understand that in a theoretical discussion (just as in law and other generalizing disciplines), there is a certain vagueness that can creep into the language because you are trying to use words that would encompass the broadest range of categories as you write. You are not talking about a specific phenomenon, but rather a class of phenomena, and in order to accurately represent every element in that class, you must be very general, which can lead to a vagueness that borders on uselessness. That's where example becomes useful. BUT, it also is the responsibility of the writer to make those generalities as easily understood as possible while allowing for all the possibilities they might refer to. But this following passage of lit theory is just ridiculous:
"In epistemological terms, the realist internalization of precept within example only sophisticates the anti-naturalizing pedagogy of more traditional exemplarity. Here the gendering of realims as feminine expresses less the reality principle over against male fantasy and romance than the subtle indirection of realist pedagogy, which internalizes precept within example as the domestic pedagogue accommodates the outspoken rationality of the law to the interiority of the domestic virtues"
It took me about fifteen minutes to get it fully square in my head what the author was trying to say here. I would figure out part of it, but then the next part would be confusing and by the time I'd puzzled through it, I had to go back to the previous part and try to remember what it translated to.
AND, I had to read about ten pages further (where the subject comes up again) and then come back to this quote to really understand what it was saying.
Now that's just bad writing.
"In epistemological terms, the realist internalization of precept within example only sophisticates the anti-naturalizing pedagogy of more traditional exemplarity. Here the gendering of realims as feminine expresses less the reality principle over against male fantasy and romance than the subtle indirection of realist pedagogy, which internalizes precept within example as the domestic pedagogue accommodates the outspoken rationality of the law to the interiority of the domestic virtues"
It took me about fifteen minutes to get it fully square in my head what the author was trying to say here. I would figure out part of it, but then the next part would be confusing and by the time I'd puzzled through it, I had to go back to the previous part and try to remember what it translated to.
AND, I had to read about ten pages further (where the subject comes up again) and then come back to this quote to really understand what it was saying.
Now that's just bad writing.
Saturday, January 08, 2005
50 Book Challenge
So, all the rage this year is the 50 Book Challenge. The idea is that you commit to read 50 books over the year. Opinions vary about what's required, but the basic elements are: 1) read 50 books, and 2) blog about them (either on a hosted site or on your own). I went over to my book site and counted about 25 books blogged about since May when I started keeping track... pretty close to a 50 book a year count (and I didn't include any poetry, criticism, or theory in the list).
So I figured, what the heck! It's a good goal to shoot for - so I'm officially beginning a 50 book a year challenge.
On your mark, get set, READ!
So I figured, what the heck! It's a good goal to shoot for - so I'm officially beginning a 50 book a year challenge.
On your mark, get set, READ!
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Soggy toes
soggy toes...oh I have soggy toes... 'cause there's water, water everywhere!
The little weather thingy at the bottom of the page says there's 'light rain' - which I suppose technically is correct. But when that light rain is falling on top of an earlier dousing of freezing rain and snow, that means slush up to your knees... hence the soggy toes!
The little weather thingy at the bottom of the page says there's 'light rain' - which I suppose technically is correct. But when that light rain is falling on top of an earlier dousing of freezing rain and snow, that means slush up to your knees... hence the soggy toes!
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
Resolution? What is this word "resolution"?
Five days in and I'm still avoiding thinking of new year's resolutions. I suppose that has something to do with the fact that I made three last year and only made good on one of them.
So... the question is: do I just import last year's resolutions, or invent new ones? I still want to do both of the things on the list, but am afraid I will jinx them by putting them on again. On the other hand, I can't think of anything new that I want to commit to this year, so putting the old stuff on the new list would just be expedient, wouldn't it?
I've had mixed luck with resolutions - sometimes I've stuck with them, and sometimes they've pretty much fallen by the wayside. I've been most successful when I've made the kind that start "sometime this year I will..." smoking and divorcing my first husband come to mind... but the ones that are more vague "I would like to be more..." tend to be so amorphous that they are not only difficult to implement (am I actually being more... right now?) but it is also difficult to know whether or not I have achieved them (was I actually more... at any point this year?)
Part of the problem is that I'm not feeling particularly resolute right now. That would imply that I'm feeling pro-active, not the passive mood that I'm currently entertaining (which partially arises out of a feeling of depression looking at the pile of books I have to read sometime soon).
I've also wondered if new year's resolutions are supposed to be like birthday wishes... do they only come true/happen if you don't tell anyone? Or is it the reverse and they only happnen IF you tell someone? I've never really shared mine with anyone before, so I have no empirical evidence either way. If anyone knows whether there's a rule for this, let me know.
I suppose you could argue that publicizing them would allow your friends and family to call you on it, but that could also be really annoying.
So, right now, all I've got for resolutions is to recycle the leftovers from last year. What remains to be seen is whether I actually get around to them this year!
So... the question is: do I just import last year's resolutions, or invent new ones? I still want to do both of the things on the list, but am afraid I will jinx them by putting them on again. On the other hand, I can't think of anything new that I want to commit to this year, so putting the old stuff on the new list would just be expedient, wouldn't it?
I've had mixed luck with resolutions - sometimes I've stuck with them, and sometimes they've pretty much fallen by the wayside. I've been most successful when I've made the kind that start "sometime this year I will..." smoking and divorcing my first husband come to mind... but the ones that are more vague "I would like to be more..." tend to be so amorphous that they are not only difficult to implement (am I actually being more... right now?) but it is also difficult to know whether or not I have achieved them (was I actually more... at any point this year?)
Part of the problem is that I'm not feeling particularly resolute right now. That would imply that I'm feeling pro-active, not the passive mood that I'm currently entertaining (which partially arises out of a feeling of depression looking at the pile of books I have to read sometime soon).
I've also wondered if new year's resolutions are supposed to be like birthday wishes... do they only come true/happen if you don't tell anyone? Or is it the reverse and they only happnen IF you tell someone? I've never really shared mine with anyone before, so I have no empirical evidence either way. If anyone knows whether there's a rule for this, let me know.
I suppose you could argue that publicizing them would allow your friends and family to call you on it, but that could also be really annoying.
So, right now, all I've got for resolutions is to recycle the leftovers from last year. What remains to be seen is whether I actually get around to them this year!
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
Music
Filled the CD changer with new music to enjoy while reading today:
Forty Licks Rolling Stones
Something Beautiful Great Big Sea
How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb U2
Flugrekorder Nicht Offnen Rammstein
Nice mix... thanks to my wonderful husband and kids
Forty Licks Rolling Stones
Something Beautiful Great Big Sea
How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb U2
Flugrekorder Nicht Offnen Rammstein
Nice mix... thanks to my wonderful husband and kids
Monday, January 03, 2005
Luxurious is a synonym for a good vacation
How absolutely wonderful to do nothing AT ALL for a week and a half. It has been so very long since I've had a break like that, which made it all that much sweeter!
I visited friends (some twice!) who I hadn't seen in a long time, ate, drank, watched movies and not much else - okay, so maybe for you that ain't heaven, but for me, that's downright celestial bliss.
My brother in law and I took the kids to the Leisure Center on Christmas eve [note: going to the Leisure Center on Christmas eve was a brainstorm - we had the place almost to ourselves!] The kids loved the waves and waterslide - I spent much of the time following my 7 year old nephew through the complex and waiting at the bottom of waterslides to catch him... which was cool!
Our whole family was together for Christmas and Boxing Day - something that hasn't happened for probably four years... longer than we've been gone even. My nieces and nephews are getting big! My far-away sister and I braved the shopping malls on Boxing Day and I was rewarded by finding a Board Doctor jacket for Angie at half price - guaranteed to -35C - not that we have those kinds of temps here! but she'll be warm anyway.
We also drove out to Banff for the one day that Dwayne was with us and it rose above -15! The wind was chilly, so we ducked quickly into our favorite candy store and the Cow store, but the wind was blocked up at the Hot Springs and the contrast between the air temp (about -12) and the water (41!) was very, very relaxing... I was glad Dwayne was driving 'cause my muscles felt like putty after all that heat!
Coming home was a bit depressing - I know we've only been here for a little more than 2 years, so I can't expect to be as familiar with the city as I am with Calgary, but I felt more comfortable with the familiar surroundings of Calgary (even though I was staying in my sister's house and my niece's bedroom - surrounded by Avril Lavine posters) than I do in my own house here in Boston. I think one of the things that makes me feel uncomfortable here is the whole visa thing at the border every time we come back - it reminds me that I don't belong here, I'm only a visitor... an "alien"... and that my stay is only temporary... at least under our current status. I suppose comfort comes with time. I just hope that some day I'll feel just as comfortable here as I do there.
Great vacation! just wish it had lasted even longer...
I visited friends (some twice!) who I hadn't seen in a long time, ate, drank, watched movies and not much else - okay, so maybe for you that ain't heaven, but for me, that's downright celestial bliss.
My brother in law and I took the kids to the Leisure Center on Christmas eve [note: going to the Leisure Center on Christmas eve was a brainstorm - we had the place almost to ourselves!] The kids loved the waves and waterslide - I spent much of the time following my 7 year old nephew through the complex and waiting at the bottom of waterslides to catch him... which was cool!
Our whole family was together for Christmas and Boxing Day - something that hasn't happened for probably four years... longer than we've been gone even. My nieces and nephews are getting big! My far-away sister and I braved the shopping malls on Boxing Day and I was rewarded by finding a Board Doctor jacket for Angie at half price - guaranteed to -35C - not that we have those kinds of temps here! but she'll be warm anyway.
We also drove out to Banff for the one day that Dwayne was with us and it rose above -15! The wind was chilly, so we ducked quickly into our favorite candy store and the Cow store, but the wind was blocked up at the Hot Springs and the contrast between the air temp (about -12) and the water (41!) was very, very relaxing... I was glad Dwayne was driving 'cause my muscles felt like putty after all that heat!
Coming home was a bit depressing - I know we've only been here for a little more than 2 years, so I can't expect to be as familiar with the city as I am with Calgary, but I felt more comfortable with the familiar surroundings of Calgary (even though I was staying in my sister's house and my niece's bedroom - surrounded by Avril Lavine posters) than I do in my own house here in Boston. I think one of the things that makes me feel uncomfortable here is the whole visa thing at the border every time we come back - it reminds me that I don't belong here, I'm only a visitor... an "alien"... and that my stay is only temporary... at least under our current status. I suppose comfort comes with time. I just hope that some day I'll feel just as comfortable here as I do there.
Great vacation! just wish it had lasted even longer...
Sunday, January 02, 2005
End of vacation
"So coming back from a journey or after an illness, before habits had spun themselves across the surface, one felt that same unreality, which was so startling; felt something emerge. Life was most vivid then. One could be at one's ease."
Virginia Woolf To the Lighthouse
Virginia Woolf To the Lighthouse
Saturday, January 01, 2005
Happy New Year!
Boy! was it nice to sleep in my own bed last night!
Not that my vacation was horrible, or the bed a bad one (actually quite nice) but it was really nice to just be at home again.
My head aches today - hangover? no - I wish! - head cold - and my ears still haven't unplugged from the last airplane descent... *sigh* I hope they do soon.
And now it's a new year - I suppose I should spend some time today thinking about resolutions... Hope you had a good holiday and HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Not that my vacation was horrible, or the bed a bad one (actually quite nice) but it was really nice to just be at home again.
My head aches today - hangover? no - I wish! - head cold - and my ears still haven't unplugged from the last airplane descent... *sigh* I hope they do soon.
And now it's a new year - I suppose I should spend some time today thinking about resolutions... Hope you had a good holiday and HAPPY NEW YEAR!
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