I just made a super-good batch of fish and chips. I know this shouldn't make me so ridiculously happy, but it does. Seeing as it's my time of the month, it's the change of season, and I had a severe migraine and flu-like symptoms at the end of this week, any victory, even a simple culinary one, is cause for celebration. Especially now that I'm feeling human again.
I got the recipe from my mom, who got it from a British friend of hers 30-some years ago. I used wild salmon and organic sweet potatoes, and fried them in organic canola oil, so it was even healthy too, and it still tasted yummy. Heh heh, if my writing career fails, I could always open a fish-and-chip/tea shop.
I don't know where the craving for it came from, though I suspect watching a Kenneth Branagh film (How to Kill Your Neighbor's Dog) and some Avengers DVDs had something to do with it (where's a John Steed when you need one?). Or perhaps my British ancestors are trying to get in touch with me. Whatever it is, I need to use this recipe more often. Mom says you can also use perch or cod for the fish. Now if I can just figure out a gluten-free version of Yorkshire pudding and popovers - I can't get them to rise properly with gluten-free flour, damn it.
On another note, I've been conditionally accepted for an MFA program in creative writing, and the admissions people have been extra nice and very responsive to my questions. They're just waiting for my transcripts and my writing portfolio for full acceptance.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Monday, August 20, 2007
what were they thinking?
I have to vent about how much I hate the new toolbar set up in MS Office 2007. Had I known how unfriendly the new set up would be, I wouldn't have gotten MS Office 2007 added to my laptop when I bought it and would instead have loaded the 2003 programs from the CD-ROM that I have. That would have saved me $150 on the cost of the laptop.
MS Office is now set up with a "ribbon" of tools. You click on the headings to get to each set of tools, and it doesn't let you customize each set (why, I don't know). If you want tools that aren't showing, you have to click on a box in the lower corner of each set to get to the rest of the tools. This means you spend a hell of a lot more time clicking toolbars in this version of Office than in previous versions.
After several months of trying to get around in the new versions of the Office programs, I've officially decided that I hate them and that it was a waste of money. There is salvation, however. Some nice person created ToolbarToggle, which inserts the more familar toolbar into the 2007 programs. You can even try it out before you buy it. I highly recommend it.
MS Office is now set up with a "ribbon" of tools. You click on the headings to get to each set of tools, and it doesn't let you customize each set (why, I don't know). If you want tools that aren't showing, you have to click on a box in the lower corner of each set to get to the rest of the tools. This means you spend a hell of a lot more time clicking toolbars in this version of Office than in previous versions.
After several months of trying to get around in the new versions of the Office programs, I've officially decided that I hate them and that it was a waste of money. There is salvation, however. Some nice person created ToolbarToggle, which inserts the more familar toolbar into the 2007 programs. You can even try it out before you buy it. I highly recommend it.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
she ain't no Jane Austen
I just saw Becoming Jane with my friend, Gwen. It's a pretty film, the scenery is gorgeous, the music is wonderful, the acting is good, there are some great one-liners and banter, the story is a nice idea - everyone seems to want Jane Austen to have had a love life. But I don't buy it. Not for a minute.
In essence, the film was a thinly veiled version of Pride and Prejudice. Becoming Jane tries too hard to make Jane Austen's life fit the story of Pride and Prejudice, which doesn't do anything any justice because it tries to come across as fact. If the film had been marketed as a fictional supposition, I might not be so critical. Austen was a superb writer because she knew the value of composites - you take everything you see and hear in life and everyone you meet, and you pick and choose what resonates most with you and mix them together for character, setting, and plot. That's good fiction, and she was so good at it because she was such a keen observer of what was around her - you can see this in her letters to Cassandra.
However, when you're presenting a biopic, which is how this film disguises itself, I think it's reasonable to assume that you're going to get the facts right, which this film doesn't do.The story presented here is that Irishman Tom Lefroy is reckless and irresponsible and not too keen on learning to be a lawyer. His uncle sends him to his family in the country "to teach him a lesson." Tom at first hates the country, and comes across as a snob. He meets Jane and criticizes her writing as being merely "accomplished." In Austen language and times, "accomplished" is something of an insult - it means you've got all the usual and expected qualifications to be a decent wife - you paint, you draw, you sing or play an instrument, you can read a little French or German, you know all the dances, you sew, you can arrange flowers, etc. So Tom and Jane start out loathing each other (though the loathing is more on Jane's side as Tom just finds her amusing), then they become friendly, then fall in love. In the meantime, Jane has received a proposal from Mr Wisley, who is (I think) supposed to be a version of Mr Bigg-Withers, who really did propose to Jane Austen. She declines, then accepts, then declines. Lady Gresham is displeased by the way Jane has treated her nephew - how dare a poor clergyman's daughter decline the offer of a rich man? Lady Gresham is meant to be the thinly veiled version of Lady Catherine of Pride and Prejudice. Jane's mother isn't too pleased either because money is everything. Affection for your spouse is nice to have, but not necessary, as far as she's concerned. The irony here is that Mrs Austen married a poor clergyman, which she apparently regrets doing, and it's painful to watch Mr Austen hear what his wife really thinks of him. The later scenes in which Mrs Austen is comforting her daughters don't come across as genuine after this.
Tom does learn a lesson - Jane is more remarkable than he had at first supposed - so he proposes to her, and goes to his uncle to get consent for the marriage. His uncle refuses - odd because his uncle is the one that sent him into the country in the first place; they never explain this satisfactorily. (Historically, the Lefroy family didn't want them to get engaged, so there was never even a proposal - I assume this is Hollywood's way of explaining things because if they had stuck to the facts, the film would have ended here, and since the Tom-Jane relationship is the main part of the story, the screenwriters had to change it and drag it out). Suddenly, Tom is going to marry someone else. Tom and Jane meet again, he asks her to run away with him and elope. She agrees, and they leave home, but Jane soon discovers that without his uncle's money, Tom can't support his many siblings, and his uncle will stop Tom's allowance entirely if he marries Jane. She can't let him sacrifice his family, so she leaves him and goes back home. They meet again, years later, at a concert. Tom had gone home to Ireland, married, and had children, one of whom he brought with him to the concert, and who is, of course, a fan of Jane's books. The ending is pure fabrication, as historically Tom and Jane never met again after Tom's family interfered to make sure they never got engaged.
You can almost hear the screenwriters cursing Austen for not having had a more exciting life, at least by Hollywood standards, thereby forcing them to spin it to make it more exciting. How disrespectful is that? In the end, they had to present the facts - Jane and her sister never married, and they lived quietly for the rest of their lives, but the writers kept putting off the finality for as long as possible, which was tiring. Just when you thought the film was finally over, no, there's more. I guess the poetry of a quiet life isn't allowed in film. Sad.
I couldn't fully accept Anne Hathaway as Jane Austen either. Hollywood rarely goes for the less glamorous person for a lead part. If they had cast Anna Maxwell Martin, who played Cassandra, as Jane, that would have been more believable. Martin is a great actress, I've seen her in several things - Bleak House, for instance - but I strongly suspect she wasn't considered pretty enough for the lead. James McAvoy, Mr Tumnus from The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, played Tom Lefroy; the film assumes he is the basis for Mr. Darcy. I don't buy that either. Austen's letters show that she was quite taken with Tom from the get-go.
James Cromwell and Julie Walters (Mrs. Weasley) were great as Mr and Mrs Austen, though they were made to seem too much like Mr and Mrs Bennett from Pride and Prejudice. Maggie Smith (Professor McGonagall) was perfectly crusty and snobbish as Lady Gresham. The Henry and Eliza subplot, though historically true, was irritating. Both characters came across as cold.
In my opinion, if you're going to take liberties with Jane Austen's life, then do what Stephanie Barron did - have Jane turn detective in a series of fiction novels and never try and force the idea of them as truth. This series of books is written in the form of journals as Jane might have written them. Barron takes the known facts about Jane and the historical events occurring at the time, and has fun extrapolating what she might have been like as a detective. It works because Barron never expects you to believe it's real. It's just a fun idea.
The highlights of the afternoon were chattering with Gwen and watching the previews before the film - The Jane Austen Book Club and Elizabeth: The Golden Age in particular. Cate Blanchett was scarily wonderful in her first go as Elizabeth I (was that really almost 10 years ago?). It looks like she pulls it off again in the sequel - if it's as good as it looks to be, she may actually get the Oscar this time for it. And the scrumptious Clive Owen is playing Sir Walter Raleigh. Can't beat that!
In essence, the film was a thinly veiled version of Pride and Prejudice. Becoming Jane tries too hard to make Jane Austen's life fit the story of Pride and Prejudice, which doesn't do anything any justice because it tries to come across as fact. If the film had been marketed as a fictional supposition, I might not be so critical. Austen was a superb writer because she knew the value of composites - you take everything you see and hear in life and everyone you meet, and you pick and choose what resonates most with you and mix them together for character, setting, and plot. That's good fiction, and she was so good at it because she was such a keen observer of what was around her - you can see this in her letters to Cassandra.
However, when you're presenting a biopic, which is how this film disguises itself, I think it's reasonable to assume that you're going to get the facts right, which this film doesn't do.The story presented here is that Irishman Tom Lefroy is reckless and irresponsible and not too keen on learning to be a lawyer. His uncle sends him to his family in the country "to teach him a lesson." Tom at first hates the country, and comes across as a snob. He meets Jane and criticizes her writing as being merely "accomplished." In Austen language and times, "accomplished" is something of an insult - it means you've got all the usual and expected qualifications to be a decent wife - you paint, you draw, you sing or play an instrument, you can read a little French or German, you know all the dances, you sew, you can arrange flowers, etc. So Tom and Jane start out loathing each other (though the loathing is more on Jane's side as Tom just finds her amusing), then they become friendly, then fall in love. In the meantime, Jane has received a proposal from Mr Wisley, who is (I think) supposed to be a version of Mr Bigg-Withers, who really did propose to Jane Austen. She declines, then accepts, then declines. Lady Gresham is displeased by the way Jane has treated her nephew - how dare a poor clergyman's daughter decline the offer of a rich man? Lady Gresham is meant to be the thinly veiled version of Lady Catherine of Pride and Prejudice. Jane's mother isn't too pleased either because money is everything. Affection for your spouse is nice to have, but not necessary, as far as she's concerned. The irony here is that Mrs Austen married a poor clergyman, which she apparently regrets doing, and it's painful to watch Mr Austen hear what his wife really thinks of him. The later scenes in which Mrs Austen is comforting her daughters don't come across as genuine after this.
Tom does learn a lesson - Jane is more remarkable than he had at first supposed - so he proposes to her, and goes to his uncle to get consent for the marriage. His uncle refuses - odd because his uncle is the one that sent him into the country in the first place; they never explain this satisfactorily. (Historically, the Lefroy family didn't want them to get engaged, so there was never even a proposal - I assume this is Hollywood's way of explaining things because if they had stuck to the facts, the film would have ended here, and since the Tom-Jane relationship is the main part of the story, the screenwriters had to change it and drag it out). Suddenly, Tom is going to marry someone else. Tom and Jane meet again, he asks her to run away with him and elope. She agrees, and they leave home, but Jane soon discovers that without his uncle's money, Tom can't support his many siblings, and his uncle will stop Tom's allowance entirely if he marries Jane. She can't let him sacrifice his family, so she leaves him and goes back home. They meet again, years later, at a concert. Tom had gone home to Ireland, married, and had children, one of whom he brought with him to the concert, and who is, of course, a fan of Jane's books. The ending is pure fabrication, as historically Tom and Jane never met again after Tom's family interfered to make sure they never got engaged.
You can almost hear the screenwriters cursing Austen for not having had a more exciting life, at least by Hollywood standards, thereby forcing them to spin it to make it more exciting. How disrespectful is that? In the end, they had to present the facts - Jane and her sister never married, and they lived quietly for the rest of their lives, but the writers kept putting off the finality for as long as possible, which was tiring. Just when you thought the film was finally over, no, there's more. I guess the poetry of a quiet life isn't allowed in film. Sad.
I couldn't fully accept Anne Hathaway as Jane Austen either. Hollywood rarely goes for the less glamorous person for a lead part. If they had cast Anna Maxwell Martin, who played Cassandra, as Jane, that would have been more believable. Martin is a great actress, I've seen her in several things - Bleak House, for instance - but I strongly suspect she wasn't considered pretty enough for the lead. James McAvoy, Mr Tumnus from The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, played Tom Lefroy; the film assumes he is the basis for Mr. Darcy. I don't buy that either. Austen's letters show that she was quite taken with Tom from the get-go.
James Cromwell and Julie Walters (Mrs. Weasley) were great as Mr and Mrs Austen, though they were made to seem too much like Mr and Mrs Bennett from Pride and Prejudice. Maggie Smith (Professor McGonagall) was perfectly crusty and snobbish as Lady Gresham. The Henry and Eliza subplot, though historically true, was irritating. Both characters came across as cold.
In my opinion, if you're going to take liberties with Jane Austen's life, then do what Stephanie Barron did - have Jane turn detective in a series of fiction novels and never try and force the idea of them as truth. This series of books is written in the form of journals as Jane might have written them. Barron takes the known facts about Jane and the historical events occurring at the time, and has fun extrapolating what she might have been like as a detective. It works because Barron never expects you to believe it's real. It's just a fun idea.
The highlights of the afternoon were chattering with Gwen and watching the previews before the film - The Jane Austen Book Club and Elizabeth: The Golden Age in particular. Cate Blanchett was scarily wonderful in her first go as Elizabeth I (was that really almost 10 years ago?). It looks like she pulls it off again in the sequel - if it's as good as it looks to be, she may actually get the Oscar this time for it. And the scrumptious Clive Owen is playing Sir Walter Raleigh. Can't beat that!
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
grad school application, take 2
So TWU is still being irritatingly difficult, as are the GRE testing people. TWU insists they never received my GRE scores. The testing company insist they sent my scores in March. It seems never the twain shall agree. The testing company say that yes, they can re-send my scores, but I'll have to pay for it, which doesn't sit right with me seeing as it's not my fault if the scores got lost, so why should I pay twice for them?
So I think the only thing to do is to kick TWU to the curb, which I hate to do seeing as it's where I got my bachelor's degree, and I loved it there, but institutional squabbling is getting in the way of starting to work on the sodding degree, and I've no patience for it anymore.
I'm now embarking on applications for a creative writing master's degree from two universities. Both are accredited online degrees, and cost the same, so it's a matter of which one wants me and/or responds first. Best of all, neither requires GRE scores. So there.
They both require a writing portfolio, so putting that together will keep me out of trouble for the rest of August at least. Sigh, it's amazingly difficult to convince people that you really want to learn from them, and even when you're willing to pay to learn from them, they still don't make it easy. I think there's something masochistic in that.
So I think the only thing to do is to kick TWU to the curb, which I hate to do seeing as it's where I got my bachelor's degree, and I loved it there, but institutional squabbling is getting in the way of starting to work on the sodding degree, and I've no patience for it anymore.
I'm now embarking on applications for a creative writing master's degree from two universities. Both are accredited online degrees, and cost the same, so it's a matter of which one wants me and/or responds first. Best of all, neither requires GRE scores. So there.
They both require a writing portfolio, so putting that together will keep me out of trouble for the rest of August at least. Sigh, it's amazingly difficult to convince people that you really want to learn from them, and even when you're willing to pay to learn from them, they still don't make it easy. I think there's something masochistic in that.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Stardust and why I love my acupuncturist
First, a plug for Stardust. I saw it tonight at the late viewing, and it was clever and charming and so worth it. If you liked The Princess Bride as a kid, you'll like Stardust as an adult. You've got Ian McKellan narrating, Peter O'Toole and Ricky Gervais in great cameos, humor, adventure, a story tightly woven together, foolish and wise love, beautiful scenery and costumes, great acting from all kinds of people (I was surprised at all the actors I recognized; and Robert DeNiro's character, while different from the book, is a hilarious addition), and a gentle moral or three for polish. Go see it. You'll like it.
And then read the book, just for kicks and giggles. Every once in awhile, you happen upon stories that you can sink down into and not notice if someone calls your name or the phone rings or lots of time passes. What's even more rare are the stories in which you get the distinct impression that the characters notice you're there tagging along with them, and they don't seem to mind, and might even wink at you from time to time (The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde gives a much better description of this phenomenon). Running around with Door while she's dodging Croup and Vandemar in Neverwhere, it feels like she expects you to protect her until Richard and the Marquis de Carabas show up, and when Tristran and Yvaine are face-to-face with the evil witch queen in Stardust, there's a bit of a look from Yvaine to say "Just so's you know, I'm not sure we're getting out of this one prettily. Duck!"
Right. End of movie plug.
The reason I love my acupuncturist is that her treatments are so logical. I went to see her yesterday, and I was telling her about my progress in my new job, and also that I was feeling fatigued and wilted, especially with this oppressive heatwave. Then I climbed up on the treatment table, and she took my pulses. She asked, "Are you learning a lot at your new job?" "Yes. I feel like a sponge trying to absorb it all." "And when do you feel most tired?" "Late afternoons, and all I want to do when I get home is inhale carbs for a solid hour, and then I get super sleepy and crash."
The diagnosis was that well of course learning something big and brand new and so quickly is exhausting, however good it is as brain food. And the heat doesn't help matters. Some channel or other was stuck, so coping with the energy back-up was also depleting my energy (ironic, isn't it?). A needle near my hairline on the left side of my face, one on the middle of my ribs on the left side, and two others in my left foot got everything unstuck. And I actually slept pretty well last night, which is unusual for me. She also recommended sucking on dried fruit when I get carb cravings. Apparently, dried fruit quickly satiates the craving without putting on the pounds, and will hopefully keep me from bingeing. I do like dried pineapple...
And then read the book, just for kicks and giggles. Every once in awhile, you happen upon stories that you can sink down into and not notice if someone calls your name or the phone rings or lots of time passes. What's even more rare are the stories in which you get the distinct impression that the characters notice you're there tagging along with them, and they don't seem to mind, and might even wink at you from time to time (The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde gives a much better description of this phenomenon). Running around with Door while she's dodging Croup and Vandemar in Neverwhere, it feels like she expects you to protect her until Richard and the Marquis de Carabas show up, and when Tristran and Yvaine are face-to-face with the evil witch queen in Stardust, there's a bit of a look from Yvaine to say "Just so's you know, I'm not sure we're getting out of this one prettily. Duck!"
Right. End of movie plug.
The reason I love my acupuncturist is that her treatments are so logical. I went to see her yesterday, and I was telling her about my progress in my new job, and also that I was feeling fatigued and wilted, especially with this oppressive heatwave. Then I climbed up on the treatment table, and she took my pulses. She asked, "Are you learning a lot at your new job?" "Yes. I feel like a sponge trying to absorb it all." "And when do you feel most tired?" "Late afternoons, and all I want to do when I get home is inhale carbs for a solid hour, and then I get super sleepy and crash."
The diagnosis was that well of course learning something big and brand new and so quickly is exhausting, however good it is as brain food. And the heat doesn't help matters. Some channel or other was stuck, so coping with the energy back-up was also depleting my energy (ironic, isn't it?). A needle near my hairline on the left side of my face, one on the middle of my ribs on the left side, and two others in my left foot got everything unstuck. And I actually slept pretty well last night, which is unusual for me. She also recommended sucking on dried fruit when I get carb cravings. Apparently, dried fruit quickly satiates the craving without putting on the pounds, and will hopefully keep me from bingeing. I do like dried pineapple...
Saturday, August 4, 2007
maybe she's just pieces of me you've never seen
Odd and yucky few days. It was a weirdly full day for a Friday – a meeting that started late (not unusual), co-workers bickering over some knotty problem and not realizing that they're talking about the same thing just in different ways and of course couldn't have their argument in a private room but instead had to have it in the open area for everyone to hear, reacquainting myself with the Chicago Manual of Style (although I'll always be an AP Stylebook girl), follow-up e-mails here there and everywhere, listening to and watching the birds flying at the window behind me and being repeatedly disappointed that they can't get in, finding out that I'll be moving up to the sixth floor sometime next week (I wonder if they'll have a phone for me by then), and realizing that I'll miss, at least a little, sitting with the programmers here on the second floor. They're relatively quiet and keep to themselves, so it's easier to concentrate on my own work. And it's like a United Nations down here in the engine room, as they call it (they all work on the Rules Engine, which runs all the algorithms). There are Russians, Asians, even a few from the Middle East. Sometimes they talk to each other in their native languages, with an English word thrown in here and there. It's cool to watch them work together to figure out a solution to whatever computer bug they've encountered. Sometimes, they all go into the conference room to put their heads together if it's a particularly sticky problem. It's just how they work. Egos, race, hierarchy don't enter into it, because computers don't care a whit about that stuff when they choose to be difficult. It's all about the ideas to fix things. And the exotic smells that come from the kitchen around lunchtime when everyone is warming up their food are mouthwatering!
I've been listening to audiobooks while I'm working, not only because I like it when people read to me, especially if they have a good reading voice (and not everybody does, mind you), but also because it removes me a bit from office distractions – conversations, printers, copiers, air conditioning, elevator bell, doors closing and opening. I've been working my way through Neil Gaiman's new short story audiobooks, which he reads himself (and he does have a nice reading voice and can do a lot of different accents). I'm not usually one for short stories because I've come across too many that were disappointing for various reasons. However, I like his short stories because he's pretty much thrown out whatever conventions there are (or were) about form and content of short stories. I like "Study in Emerald" (his twisted take on Conan Doyle's Study in Scarlet), "Snow Glass Apples" (Snow White and the wicked witch aren't who you think they are), October in the Chair (the months of the year personified, meeting to share stories around a campfire and eat sausages), "The Case of Four and Twenty Blackbirds" (nursery rhymes re-told in film noir style), "Instructions" (what to do the next time you find yourself in a fairy tale – I would love to have this on a poster), and "Monarch of the Glen" (the return of Shadow from American Gods – I like this story rather better than American Gods - can you admire a story but not like it? I suspect the chilly, creepy Scottish setting has something to do with it). It's amazing how much faster the day goes when someone reads to you while you're working.
And I've been the recipient of yet another "it's not you, it's me" excuse, only to find out it was really "it's not you, it's another woman." The mind reels at how many men are too chickenshit to admit they prefer someone else to you and would rather outright lie instead, and not even lie very well and get caught at it, and somehow think they're doing you a favor. Being honest is truly more flattering because it shows respect. It's also upsettling (NG word that I like) that having your act together as best you can and not being in need of much rescuing can make you not good enough in other people's eyes. I seem to have learned the "you've-got-to-be-able-to-look-after-yourself-because-you-won't-always-have-someone-to-look-after-you" lesson from my parents a bit too well, so men feel like they don't have anything to do in the relationship if there's nothing to fix. Um, how's about enjoying the relationship and keeping it going? Rough times show up eventually for everybody, I'm no exception, and trust me, you'll be needed. And the odd thing is that I don't think I'm aggressive about my independence. You'd be hard-pressed to say I was aggressive about anything, really. My life is just my life - I gather people and things and fun stuff around me that make me happy, I have at least a few quirks and faults and slightly odd dress sense to keep people amused, I fix what's broken if I can, I ask for help when I need it, I think it's incredibly nice of you to offer to change the oil in my car, but if it's going to take you half a day to do it, I'd sooner go to the oil change place and have it done in 20 minutes so we can spend the day doing more fun things instead, and no, I'm not going to change my hair color/wear shorter skirts/get my tattoo removed/be more this/be less that - I am not a set of tasks on a checklist to be made more acceptable; unconditional love ain't for sissies. Like me for me? Please? And while I need some space, I give other people the courtesy of respecting their space, and yet the looks I get from men I date when I'm agreeable to them going out on their own with their own friends. Sheesh! It's like they think I don't mean it, and they'd prefer it if I threw a fit and was clingy and monopolized all their free time, which I guess it what they're used to. I just don't DO that, mainly because I'm always hearing men complain about women who do, so why would I do what they complain about? Besides, if they go out with their friends, that means I get time with mine or time to myself. How is this a bad thing? Does this really make me such an undesireable freak?
Last night, rather that sit and fume and dwell, I had the sudden urge to run errands, so I put cards and bills in the mail, deposited my paycheck (auto-deposits won't kick in for a few paychecks yet), filled up the gas tank, picked up my dog's ashes from the vet (and I didn't get through that with anything resembling dignity, I'm afraid), and checked out My Organic Market (yes, MOM's, cute eh?) on Route 1 - bit small, selection wasn't any different from the other organic stores around here, the prices are good, and they took my bag to my car for me. Tonight, I've decided on takeout for dinner (I'm addicted to spicy Singapore rice noodles lately) and possibly some frivolous book-buying, because I think I deserve it.
Thank goodness for Gwen's tea party tomorrow! It will be a refreshing change to just be me and not feel guilty about it.
I've been listening to audiobooks while I'm working, not only because I like it when people read to me, especially if they have a good reading voice (and not everybody does, mind you), but also because it removes me a bit from office distractions – conversations, printers, copiers, air conditioning, elevator bell, doors closing and opening. I've been working my way through Neil Gaiman's new short story audiobooks, which he reads himself (and he does have a nice reading voice and can do a lot of different accents). I'm not usually one for short stories because I've come across too many that were disappointing for various reasons. However, I like his short stories because he's pretty much thrown out whatever conventions there are (or were) about form and content of short stories. I like "Study in Emerald" (his twisted take on Conan Doyle's Study in Scarlet), "Snow Glass Apples" (Snow White and the wicked witch aren't who you think they are), October in the Chair (the months of the year personified, meeting to share stories around a campfire and eat sausages), "The Case of Four and Twenty Blackbirds" (nursery rhymes re-told in film noir style), "Instructions" (what to do the next time you find yourself in a fairy tale – I would love to have this on a poster), and "Monarch of the Glen" (the return of Shadow from American Gods – I like this story rather better than American Gods - can you admire a story but not like it? I suspect the chilly, creepy Scottish setting has something to do with it). It's amazing how much faster the day goes when someone reads to you while you're working.
And I've been the recipient of yet another "it's not you, it's me" excuse, only to find out it was really "it's not you, it's another woman." The mind reels at how many men are too chickenshit to admit they prefer someone else to you and would rather outright lie instead, and not even lie very well and get caught at it, and somehow think they're doing you a favor. Being honest is truly more flattering because it shows respect. It's also upsettling (NG word that I like) that having your act together as best you can and not being in need of much rescuing can make you not good enough in other people's eyes. I seem to have learned the "you've-got-to-be-able-to-look-after-yourself-because-you-won't-always-have-someone-to-look-after-you" lesson from my parents a bit too well, so men feel like they don't have anything to do in the relationship if there's nothing to fix. Um, how's about enjoying the relationship and keeping it going? Rough times show up eventually for everybody, I'm no exception, and trust me, you'll be needed. And the odd thing is that I don't think I'm aggressive about my independence. You'd be hard-pressed to say I was aggressive about anything, really. My life is just my life - I gather people and things and fun stuff around me that make me happy, I have at least a few quirks and faults and slightly odd dress sense to keep people amused, I fix what's broken if I can, I ask for help when I need it, I think it's incredibly nice of you to offer to change the oil in my car, but if it's going to take you half a day to do it, I'd sooner go to the oil change place and have it done in 20 minutes so we can spend the day doing more fun things instead, and no, I'm not going to change my hair color/wear shorter skirts/get my tattoo removed/be more this/be less that - I am not a set of tasks on a checklist to be made more acceptable; unconditional love ain't for sissies. Like me for me? Please? And while I need some space, I give other people the courtesy of respecting their space, and yet the looks I get from men I date when I'm agreeable to them going out on their own with their own friends. Sheesh! It's like they think I don't mean it, and they'd prefer it if I threw a fit and was clingy and monopolized all their free time, which I guess it what they're used to. I just don't DO that, mainly because I'm always hearing men complain about women who do, so why would I do what they complain about? Besides, if they go out with their friends, that means I get time with mine or time to myself. How is this a bad thing? Does this really make me such an undesireable freak?
Last night, rather that sit and fume and dwell, I had the sudden urge to run errands, so I put cards and bills in the mail, deposited my paycheck (auto-deposits won't kick in for a few paychecks yet), filled up the gas tank, picked up my dog's ashes from the vet (and I didn't get through that with anything resembling dignity, I'm afraid), and checked out My Organic Market (yes, MOM's, cute eh?) on Route 1 - bit small, selection wasn't any different from the other organic stores around here, the prices are good, and they took my bag to my car for me. Tonight, I've decided on takeout for dinner (I'm addicted to spicy Singapore rice noodles lately) and possibly some frivolous book-buying, because I think I deserve it.
Thank goodness for Gwen's tea party tomorrow! It will be a refreshing change to just be me and not feel guilty about it.
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