I love Sundays. Take that Morrissey! I used to love Friday night, because it meant the whole weekend was ahead of me, but now I love Sunday because it means the weekend is behind me. Saturday, not so much. Saturday is guilty chore day from what you didnt' do during the week. I try to fight it off, to NOT do the dishes, to NOT watch Style network and get inspired by decorating projects that will never happen, to NOT clean the apartment, to NOT fret about going to the grocery store, to NOT think "I should really clean the kitchen floor," to NOT go shopping for thing I don't really need, to NOT worry so much about the aforementioned items. Ugh, Saturday.
The reality I have been facing lately--well, actually, the last five years when I finally decided that I would actually spend time writing than just secretly thinking about it--is that I have to use my spare time editing, writing, staring at whatever I've written. I have found it really difficult to not let all the "should be doing" stuff get in the way. It's as if my days are parceled out into hours that could be spent doing chores, or doing something that would make me feel better. Lately, I've been feeling like I'm a jack-of-all-trades but a master of none. And, in trying to break that negative-thinking style, I've been more aware of being proactive. Especially when I take into account that DG would rather see me happy than a tidy apartment. For that alone, I love him exponentially. Which is why, while he has been on assignment across-the-pond, I have been thinking "What would DG do?" It has been quite helpful in realizing that folding t-shirts is not a necessity before writing.
When I went to Key West for the writer's group, the one thing that both depressed (and inspired me, I suppose) was that 7 out of the 10 women in the workshop were 60 or over. Granted, it was in Key West, the idea being to attract women of this age group--retirees with expendable income. But, from my experience in writing groups and what I've heard from others, this is pretty much the norm for women writers. Many of them are really fantastic writers who have yet to be published, some of them have never even tried. I mean, if your writing is good enough to get you into the Breadloaf Writers Conference, then you are probably highly publishable.
The one common thread I've heard is that they never could find the time to write while they were working and/or raising their children. Completely understandable, but really a reality check for me at the same time. As DG so eloquently said to me during one of his rousing pep talks, "The only deadline you have is death." Perhaps a dark metaphor, but true. Anyway, I found this discovery depressing because all of these women, liberated, educated women, still had all of the other stuff to do before they could sit down at their desks. I will spare you my "Room of One's Own" update on the subject. Granted, this was a different generation and some of them had husbands who supported them financially, others did not and there were different expectations than today (somewhat). But even the most supportive of husbands still left the brunt of child rearing, household duties to their wives. Apparently, one woman who had two small children and signed up for a writing workshop with a Well Known Author was told by WKA that she would "Have to choose between kids and writing." Seriously, what is this "Sophies Choice?"
It struck a chord with me because I know my mother faced the same challenges and she is really a big source of inspiration for me. If ever anyone deserved their own column in the New York Times, or Oprah-like following, it was her. But I digress--it's infuriating to me when when I think of the innumerable men of their same generation and younger who did not even have to consider those challenges. Somehow, they managed to get their wives to go to work so they could stoke the fires of their genius (see: William Styron, Raymond Carver). I mean, good for them for having a spouse willing to do that, but I bet that 90% of those authors never felt one iota of guilt for not cleaning the kichen floor or getting to the carpool on time.
I had lunch with some of the women from my local writer's group (2 Hillary Generation, 2 of us Obama) and one of them shed some great light on the subject--she said that all of that "should do" stuff before you start writing is really just your ego getting in the way. It's what makes you feel that you aren't accomplishing all you can. I sometimes think that that mechanism is more honed in women. I know that DG doesn't need the dishes clean before he sits down and does his work. Or, maybe some of us are just more OCD than others, or just need to feel everything is in its place before starting a new project. Or, maybe it's just an excuse to never write. Over the years, the more guys I talk to who write--and wear it proudly on their sleeve--and women who write, the differences between their emotional connection to why and how they write is vast.
What I've tried to do is make writing a necessity like working out. I won't even go into the essay on "Why I Hate the Idea of Working Out But Enjoy the Results," but I just have to think of it in the back of my head at all times, like a mantra. Like, "I could sit on the couch right now and watch the last episode of The Hills and pretend that I'm critically analyzing it in terms of pop culture, or, I could write."
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Summer Travels
I have returned from various travels:
1. England to visit DG's family, some for the very first time. I heart England. I have since Beatrix Potter days, but now that I have a real, live, loved one from the place--and English in-laws to boot--I heart it even more. How can you not love a place that invented Cadbury chocolate? We toured Cadbury World. We also toured this crazy manor home where the owner loved to "collect stuffed animals." By stuffed, they really mean TAXIDERMIED, and I can only thank the lord above that I was not born during Victorian era because if I had to sit in a parlor that featured a small monkey wearing a suit walking a possum-like creature, I would have certainly been put in the insane asylum.
All that aside, the family was so much fun and bent over backwards to cart my "I can't drive on that side of the road!" American butt around. and, paid with their powerful GBPs so I did not bankrupt myself touring Shakespeare's house. I will say that museums, attractions, etc. are so much better organized in the UK and Europe. Cadbury World could probably compete with The Smithsonian in terms of useful information (if you don't count the weird rainforest exhibit), and the Shakespeare House/Trust was very well organized so that you had many things to look at as you waited in line to see the actual house.
Say what you will about English food, but they've got us on organization and design of small spaces. The toilet on the train felt like the future, if that gives you any indication. Maybe because it's a smaller country it can do more futuristic and forward-thinking things like, having a Boots pharmacy in the airport AFTER you go through security? That Boots saved my sinus-infected self on my flight back.
Also, we went to Wembley for the US vs. England "friendly" match. I was afraid to root for the U.S. for fear of being booed, but since the closest seatmate was a pudgy 13-year-old boy, I figured I could take him if he got mouthy. And, after Kelly Rowland (Destiny's Child) sang the national anthem and I believe had her microphone intentionally cut by our hosts, I felt quite pro-U.S. You can say what you will, but you do not screw up the sound when a Destiny's Child is singing. There are rules, people!
There are NO RULES however, when it comes to the Top Shop in Oxford Circus. Yowza. It was like Forever 21 on steroids mixed in with lots of neon. Oh, and don't forget to double the price of everything in the store so it's no longer a bargain for Yanks like me. Boo, currency conversion!
All in all, I got to meet all of Daryl's relatives (near and distant), drank way too much tea and discovered that the English really do mean business about their gardens. I always thought it was a stereotype. I was wrong.
The weirdest part of the trip was that not that much is different than it is here. Aside from the driving, and ample use of public transportation, of course. For instance, we went to see the new Indiana Jones movie in a nearby town, and the movie theater was part of this mini-mall that consisted of a bowling alley, a restaurant called Tish & Tom's (ala Max & Erma's) or something, and lots of teenagers milling around a huge parking lot. Hello, U.S. suburbs? it was the weirdest thing ever, I thought I had stepped into an alternate universe where I was in a U.S. mall-park, but everyone spoke with an English accent. Is nothing sacred? Is the rest of the world slowly turning into suburban Ohio?
But, that's my only complaint.
Next update. . . wedding in Detroit
1. England to visit DG's family, some for the very first time. I heart England. I have since Beatrix Potter days, but now that I have a real, live, loved one from the place--and English in-laws to boot--I heart it even more. How can you not love a place that invented Cadbury chocolate? We toured Cadbury World. We also toured this crazy manor home where the owner loved to "collect stuffed animals." By stuffed, they really mean TAXIDERMIED, and I can only thank the lord above that I was not born during Victorian era because if I had to sit in a parlor that featured a small monkey wearing a suit walking a possum-like creature, I would have certainly been put in the insane asylum.
All that aside, the family was so much fun and bent over backwards to cart my "I can't drive on that side of the road!" American butt around. and, paid with their powerful GBPs so I did not bankrupt myself touring Shakespeare's house. I will say that museums, attractions, etc. are so much better organized in the UK and Europe. Cadbury World could probably compete with The Smithsonian in terms of useful information (if you don't count the weird rainforest exhibit), and the Shakespeare House/Trust was very well organized so that you had many things to look at as you waited in line to see the actual house.
Say what you will about English food, but they've got us on organization and design of small spaces. The toilet on the train felt like the future, if that gives you any indication. Maybe because it's a smaller country it can do more futuristic and forward-thinking things like, having a Boots pharmacy in the airport AFTER you go through security? That Boots saved my sinus-infected self on my flight back.
Also, we went to Wembley for the US vs. England "friendly" match. I was afraid to root for the U.S. for fear of being booed, but since the closest seatmate was a pudgy 13-year-old boy, I figured I could take him if he got mouthy. And, after Kelly Rowland (Destiny's Child) sang the national anthem and I believe had her microphone intentionally cut by our hosts, I felt quite pro-U.S. You can say what you will, but you do not screw up the sound when a Destiny's Child is singing. There are rules, people!
There are NO RULES however, when it comes to the Top Shop in Oxford Circus. Yowza. It was like Forever 21 on steroids mixed in with lots of neon. Oh, and don't forget to double the price of everything in the store so it's no longer a bargain for Yanks like me. Boo, currency conversion!
All in all, I got to meet all of Daryl's relatives (near and distant), drank way too much tea and discovered that the English really do mean business about their gardens. I always thought it was a stereotype. I was wrong.
The weirdest part of the trip was that not that much is different than it is here. Aside from the driving, and ample use of public transportation, of course. For instance, we went to see the new Indiana Jones movie in a nearby town, and the movie theater was part of this mini-mall that consisted of a bowling alley, a restaurant called Tish & Tom's (ala Max & Erma's) or something, and lots of teenagers milling around a huge parking lot. Hello, U.S. suburbs? it was the weirdest thing ever, I thought I had stepped into an alternate universe where I was in a U.S. mall-park, but everyone spoke with an English accent. Is nothing sacred? Is the rest of the world slowly turning into suburban Ohio?
But, that's my only complaint.
Next update. . . wedding in Detroit
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
It's Spring Again. . .
So much has happened!
1. I quit my job! That's right, threw the hat right in the ring and said "Enough!" Since I was having many delusional scenes right out of "9 to 5" and making metaphors comaring the situation to "Grey Gardens," "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" and "Network" you can imagine what it had become. Of course, being a true Taurean "I hate change," I made sure to have a new job lined up. So, good-bye arts, hello hi-tech PR!
2. I went to the writer's conference in a very balmy climate. I can't say it was much different from this as I was the youngest person there by about 25 years, but it was fairly informative and I got some good feedback. We had many of the expected personalities including, people trying to write thinly guised stories about their own lives featuring: incest, the decrepit state of the aging female body mixed in with images of monkeys running around temples, horrifying forays into the female psyche and kind of boring prose about divorce. Overall, it was an experience with a capital "E" and I think I now officially have enough material to write endlessly, without pause. Oh, and the first night in our French B&B I had to call 9-1-1 on our neighbors. On a brighter note several of the ladies were still rockin' a sassy attitude and gave me an interesting insight: women are more like they were in their 20s (depending on friends, loving independence, sassy about men) when they are in their 60s. Now that was refreshing and gives me something to look forward to.
3. I quit my job! What an experience. It was like breaking up with someone--long, drawn out, exhausting and like carrying around a dead weight. And I only gave 2 weeks notice!
4. "The Hills" has returned and I am going to watch it without guilt.
5. It's spring!
1. I quit my job! That's right, threw the hat right in the ring and said "Enough!" Since I was having many delusional scenes right out of "9 to 5" and making metaphors comaring the situation to "Grey Gardens," "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" and "Network" you can imagine what it had become. Of course, being a true Taurean "I hate change," I made sure to have a new job lined up. So, good-bye arts, hello hi-tech PR!
2. I went to the writer's conference in a very balmy climate. I can't say it was much different from this as I was the youngest person there by about 25 years, but it was fairly informative and I got some good feedback. We had many of the expected personalities including, people trying to write thinly guised stories about their own lives featuring: incest, the decrepit state of the aging female body mixed in with images of monkeys running around temples, horrifying forays into the female psyche and kind of boring prose about divorce. Overall, it was an experience with a capital "E" and I think I now officially have enough material to write endlessly, without pause. Oh, and the first night in our French B&B I had to call 9-1-1 on our neighbors. On a brighter note several of the ladies were still rockin' a sassy attitude and gave me an interesting insight: women are more like they were in their 20s (depending on friends, loving independence, sassy about men) when they are in their 60s. Now that was refreshing and gives me something to look forward to.
3. I quit my job! What an experience. It was like breaking up with someone--long, drawn out, exhausting and like carrying around a dead weight. And I only gave 2 weeks notice!
4. "The Hills" has returned and I am going to watch it without guilt.
5. It's spring!
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Portland!
So, Portland!
We just returned and so far the biggest downside is/was the 6-hour flight. But that won't matter much if we live there, right?
The Flight: InFlight Trivia kicks ass! I had no idea it even existed until DG informed me that he played for hours on his flight. Basically, it is touch screen trivia and you compete against other players on the plane. Let's just say that PHLLIP in 28D ate my dust. It was the most highly addictive game ever played and when we touched down in Portland I was at the top of the heap, literally. What's awesome about the game is a) it's trivia which I love and b)it shows you who in what row is getting what right (or wrong) and c)it is not unlike the empty superiority felt on being in the 90th percentile on pointless standardized tests.
I spent the entire flight defending my reign, gritting my teeth and internally shaking my fist at the upstart in 33B trying to out-trivia me. I will say that, as in life, Science & Technology kicked my butt and I was kind of embarassed to answer completely absurdly because I coudl see my neighbor playing as well. I tried to shrug it off with snorts or nodding and muttering "Oh, that's right. . ." when a correct answer for how many moons orbit Pluto, or what common kitchen product CIl represents (see, i can't even make up chemicals) trumped my insanely incorrect guess. But you can bet your bottom dollar I was racking up points when "Choose the real name of Elvis Costello" came up. Thank the lord there are no trivia tables in Vegas because I would be there bankrupting my future.
The Baggage Claim: You can always get a good read on a populus at the baggage claim. First thoughts--every guy looks like a hybrid of the musician/actor guy from "Once" and there is a lot of fleece and rugged sensible shoes. But I stood my own in my arch-damaging ballet flats.
The Look of the City (at night): Under the cloak of darkness and jet lag, the topography and architecture/layout of the neighborhoods we whizzed through resembled a wild hybrid (tribrid?) of Los Angeles/Seattle/Vancouver/The Set of Northern Exposure (but I think that was due to the use of tin and wood building that look vaguely ski-townesque).
The Houses: So many Four-Squares, Craftsman and Arts & Crafts bungalows my head is spinning. Generally speaking, my favorite style of architecture, probably because of being inundated with those styles from various t.v. shows set on the West Coast (see: Dylan's bungalow on 90210, the house the kids lived in on Party of Five, etc.) Anyway, all I could keep saying was "I love the architecture!" And, truly, they do a great job of mixing it up with ranches, Victorians, etc.
The People: As predicted, heavy fleece, light to moderate hipsters (lots of ankle boots, assymetrical haricuts and leggings), lots of 40-something ladies with toddlers and/or long grey hair. Not that there's anything wrong with that. And, by and large, the highest number of redheads per capita. Seriously, more than Ireland (and yes, I know that the redhead is not the norm in Ireland). Overall, everyone was super-friendly--from the Simpson's comic book guy cab driver who's greeting was "Do you mind if I don't turn on the meter? I just want to check on this homeless dude I know who I think may have been getting beat up across the street" to coffee shop baristas to waitresses to, well, just about everyone.
The Weather: It only drizzled one day. The rest of the time was sunny/cloudy.
The Coffee: excellent. Actually, too excellent as I completely over-did it the first day with two cups of coffe and a cappucino and was twitching out of my skin by 2pm. I had no idea (though I should have) that it was such a coffee town. I guess it goes along with the rain.
Other fun FAQs--you can't pump your own gas in Portland, you must have an attendant do so. And, no sales tax! Unfortunately, the income tax is high but at least there is public transportation, no urban sprawl and a view of the mountains, right? Also, the museums are free! And, I noticed a Chanel boutique as well as Louis Vuitton downtown. Not that I would ever purchase anything from either store, but I feel comfortable just knowing they are in the vicinity--it lends a certain sophistication to a city. Speaking of shopping--the Hawthorne District had tons of very cool resale/consignment shops chock full of mid-century modern furniture.
Prognosis: Positive!
We just returned and so far the biggest downside is/was the 6-hour flight. But that won't matter much if we live there, right?
The Flight: InFlight Trivia kicks ass! I had no idea it even existed until DG informed me that he played for hours on his flight. Basically, it is touch screen trivia and you compete against other players on the plane. Let's just say that PHLLIP in 28D ate my dust. It was the most highly addictive game ever played and when we touched down in Portland I was at the top of the heap, literally. What's awesome about the game is a) it's trivia which I love and b)it shows you who in what row is getting what right (or wrong) and c)it is not unlike the empty superiority felt on being in the 90th percentile on pointless standardized tests.
I spent the entire flight defending my reign, gritting my teeth and internally shaking my fist at the upstart in 33B trying to out-trivia me. I will say that, as in life, Science & Technology kicked my butt and I was kind of embarassed to answer completely absurdly because I coudl see my neighbor playing as well. I tried to shrug it off with snorts or nodding and muttering "Oh, that's right. . ." when a correct answer for how many moons orbit Pluto, or what common kitchen product CIl represents (see, i can't even make up chemicals) trumped my insanely incorrect guess. But you can bet your bottom dollar I was racking up points when "Choose the real name of Elvis Costello" came up. Thank the lord there are no trivia tables in Vegas because I would be there bankrupting my future.
The Baggage Claim: You can always get a good read on a populus at the baggage claim. First thoughts--every guy looks like a hybrid of the musician/actor guy from "Once" and there is a lot of fleece and rugged sensible shoes. But I stood my own in my arch-damaging ballet flats.
The Look of the City (at night): Under the cloak of darkness and jet lag, the topography and architecture/layout of the neighborhoods we whizzed through resembled a wild hybrid (tribrid?) of Los Angeles/Seattle/Vancouver/The Set of Northern Exposure (but I think that was due to the use of tin and wood building that look vaguely ski-townesque).
The Houses: So many Four-Squares, Craftsman and Arts & Crafts bungalows my head is spinning. Generally speaking, my favorite style of architecture, probably because of being inundated with those styles from various t.v. shows set on the West Coast (see: Dylan's bungalow on 90210, the house the kids lived in on Party of Five, etc.) Anyway, all I could keep saying was "I love the architecture!" And, truly, they do a great job of mixing it up with ranches, Victorians, etc.
The People: As predicted, heavy fleece, light to moderate hipsters (lots of ankle boots, assymetrical haricuts and leggings), lots of 40-something ladies with toddlers and/or long grey hair. Not that there's anything wrong with that. And, by and large, the highest number of redheads per capita. Seriously, more than Ireland (and yes, I know that the redhead is not the norm in Ireland). Overall, everyone was super-friendly--from the Simpson's comic book guy cab driver who's greeting was "Do you mind if I don't turn on the meter? I just want to check on this homeless dude I know who I think may have been getting beat up across the street" to coffee shop baristas to waitresses to, well, just about everyone.
The Weather: It only drizzled one day. The rest of the time was sunny/cloudy.
The Coffee: excellent. Actually, too excellent as I completely over-did it the first day with two cups of coffe and a cappucino and was twitching out of my skin by 2pm. I had no idea (though I should have) that it was such a coffee town. I guess it goes along with the rain.
Other fun FAQs--you can't pump your own gas in Portland, you must have an attendant do so. And, no sales tax! Unfortunately, the income tax is high but at least there is public transportation, no urban sprawl and a view of the mountains, right? Also, the museums are free! And, I noticed a Chanel boutique as well as Louis Vuitton downtown. Not that I would ever purchase anything from either store, but I feel comfortable just knowing they are in the vicinity--it lends a certain sophistication to a city. Speaking of shopping--the Hawthorne District had tons of very cool resale/consignment shops chock full of mid-century modern furniture.
Prognosis: Positive!
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Apocalypse Now?
Someone gave Chloe Sevigny her own fashion line. I've tried closing my eyes and chanting "It's not real, it's not real, it's not real" over and over again, but alas, it is real. Behold:
Monday, March 3, 2008
Too Much Animal Nitrate?
Surfing gossip, just came across this picture of Winona Ryder and her fiancé Blake Sennett??
So, full disclosure, the guy is the guitarist for Rilo Kiley, a band that I cannot fathom the popularity of nor even listen to for a nanosecond. Their song "Moneymaker" sounds like some godawful rehash from a mediocre bar band from 1998. Every time I hear it, I have to turn the station immediately. Second, does he not look like a weird version of Truman Capote crossed with Brett Anderson from Suede?
+
She looks phenomenal, but I fear she has been trapped in a time warp where Brit Pop rules and side parts are all the rage. Okay, that might be now, but they just look too samey. You know, like when this happened with Brad and Gwyneth:
Can you believe that time ever existed?
Okay, enough celebrity garbage for now. I’ve been researching things to do in Portland and I am completely overwhelmed by the interesting things to visit/do/see. First of all, the Northwest Film Center looks completely cool and just the mere thought of a film center complete with theater and retrospectives on Robert Altman makes my heart skip a beat. Viva change!
So, full disclosure, the guy is the guitarist for Rilo Kiley, a band that I cannot fathom the popularity of nor even listen to for a nanosecond. Their song "Moneymaker" sounds like some godawful rehash from a mediocre bar band from 1998. Every time I hear it, I have to turn the station immediately. Second, does he not look like a weird version of Truman Capote crossed with Brett Anderson from Suede?
+
She looks phenomenal, but I fear she has been trapped in a time warp where Brit Pop rules and side parts are all the rage. Okay, that might be now, but they just look too samey. You know, like when this happened with Brad and Gwyneth:
Can you believe that time ever existed?
Okay, enough celebrity garbage for now. I’ve been researching things to do in Portland and I am completely overwhelmed by the interesting things to visit/do/see. First of all, the Northwest Film Center looks completely cool and just the mere thought of a film center complete with theater and retrospectives on Robert Altman makes my heart skip a beat. Viva change!
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