Time Gone By

So... remember the time I went to graduate school? And got married? That was 2011 into 2012. After an absurdly intense summer—post wedding/semester unwinding in Iceland then home, Mum's triumph over cancer, and Martin working 60+ hour weeks—I was extremely glad to get back to the "relaxing" world of school and work in the fall of 2012.

I'm in full thesis mode right now and due to graduate in May. Work and school both go well. Martin is also working on a MA at Stanford, and I'm looking forward to when neither of us are graduate students just to change things up a bit.

The blog will come back. But first I have to write a bunch of words about 18th-century prostitution and marriage narratives, grade some undergrad essays, organize a mini-conference, work on a literary journal, write a seminar paper on Rebecca West, and get some sleep.

I'll see you all soon!

Story podcast?

Idea struck me today as I was recounting the plot of this cool Aphra Behn novella The Fair Jilt: what if I did a podcast retelling this kind of classic literature in under 5 minutes? Perhaps with puppets made out of popsicle sticks or something very low budget and tech. I've been summing up literature for people since high school like Macbeth (there's this dude and his wife really wants to him to be king. So they make this plan...) or Hemingway (dude likes drinking, fishing, bullfights. He goes to do these things...) (yes, that's The Sun Also Rises).

Perhaps I'll try to recreate my epic retelling and post it up for a listen. But would people want to subscribe to such a thing? That's my real question.... Also, what would it be called? Not like I need another project at this time, but it's an idea.

Little Brother

It's the first day of classes at SFSU, but my first class isn't until tomorrow. So what better time to read YA fiction?! I'm currently enthralled by Little Brother by Cory Doctorow. Though I'm not finished (about a third left to go), I'm thinking more about civil liberties and what patriotism means for those who want to actually fight for rights and freedoms. Not that the book is totally heavy - a 17 year old vows to take down Homeland Security after a terrible terrorist attack cripples the Bay Area. Thanks to Rebecca for the recommendation!

I must admit a secret love for those who hack, starting with Elsbeth Salander in The Girl with a Dragon Tattoo. She does incredible things with weak excuses for security and brings down bad guys (well, most of them) (and totally in her own way). With the interwebs being so full of ideas, openness makes more and more sense. Heck, Doctorow even has his book downloadable for free and a blog post explaining why. I like it.

Home Front News

The summer seems to be a month of change for me. Birthday last month aside, I've got a new class, some new writing clients, and will be starting my grad program next month. I'm also moving at the end of this month into a new apartment. There are things to pack, furniture to debate keeping or selling, and organization to be had. Good thing I've been writing about professional organizers here recently! It's mostly exciting, not overwhelming (though I'll be hiring movers for the first time - back preservation says no lifting for me! Especially not with 1 flight of stairs going out, another going into new place).

I also saw Tales of the City at the A.C.T. last weekend. What a musical musical. I think they tried to jam every 70's reference ever into it, but I found the tales of these different residents on an imaginary San Francisco street engaging and amusing (for the most part). The stories were serialized and come in many volumes, though I've yet to read them. However, I've also become addicted to Alexander McCall Smith's 44 Scotland Street series. These are also serial stories published first in a newspaper (see the theme?) and hysterically funny to brutally honest by turns. I find them almost impossible to put down, especially since the short chapters mean you can read just one more. And then one more. And then yet another.

See what happens when I join summer reading? SFPL tracks your reading by time, not pages. I just signed up and need to post some backdated reading times, but I'm fairly sure that I read at least 40 hours in two months. As do most of the people I know, though our material is wide-ranging.

There may be photos of apartment transformations in the next month, but look for student and birthday party ones sooner than that.

Oh, Italians

Italians are always right, just as many other folks from the Mediterranean are. I came across this post about how to make pesto and giggled a whole much. The author has definite opinions he is unafraid to share, from the blasphemy of mixing different cheeses to using a blender.

Yet he doesn't toast his pine nuts. I question his credibility on this point alone... But I still want to eat some pesto now.

English Episodes #11 - A new chapter begins

I finished up with my pre-intermediate class late March so that I could start teaching a Cambridge Advanced Exam prep course (think a harder TOEFL test). I was so sad to see my group go; they've really made a great community (as well as a quite amusing one). That said, I had about a 1/3 of my class leave that last Friday as well, so it was a fitting time to close that chapter.

But the funny bits from the vault!

We learned that one of our cohort had to get reconstructive surgery on his nose twice after it was messed up in a fight with his friend. He'd called it plastic surgery, but we learned nuance of the two types (Note: These are folks that have a hard time talking about past events with nuance but they totally get the difference between elective and non-elective surgery). Anyway, it fit into our discussion of medical vocab, what to say at the doctor, etc. This guy explained that they had to take cartilage out of his ear to put into his nose and now the tip of his nose is hard, not squishy.

Imagine a classroom of folks all pushing on the tips of their noses at the same time.

It gets funnier.

As we're pondering these facts, another pipes up: "So, can you use your cellphone like this?" He puts his hand in front of his nose and mouth, the speaker being next to the nose. Laughter begins but escalates when our surgery recipient agrees and says: "Yes! And I put my earphones here" pointing to his nostrils.

We all lost it. It was a great ending class with lots of photos, a few tears. We also did a fun writing exercise that I post excerpts from later.

Last Friday I ran into one of my former students after class who started to cry on me and gave me a hug. She said that I was the best English teacher she'd ever had, that we'd learned so much more than just speaking. It moved me more than I can truly say - she's so sweet and was so obviously emotional in a way I'd not expected at all. We took photos together after she'd wiped her tears and promised to see each other soon "on the Internet."

I only friend my students on the book of face after they are my students. It's easier that way.

Thoughts on pain & death

That's quite a downer of a title, isn't it?

But these are things that are circling in my head right now: I'm at a great cafe in my neighborhood getting ready to do some writing work. The barista I remember from a few visits ago - her friend had died and she was looking to go back home to Florida for the funeral that weekend. I gave her a hug before I left and wished her well. Then today I asked how it went - as with most funerals it sounds like a cathartic experience, one she said was really spiritual and moving. That there's a connection between that group of friends that wasn't there before - it makes me think of Billie and what happened when he died in such an untimely way in 2004. There's something about losing a friend (or hearing about the loss of a friend) that makes me think about mortality in a more tangible way.

I survived my first MRI today as well - the narrow tube was like a spaceship and I kept my eyes firmly shut on the advice of a friend who'd had one before. Deep breathing served me well and now I have a crazy CD of pictures of my spine... Perhaps now the doctor types can tell me why I want to cut off my right hip because the pain gets so bad. Here's hoping.

Next post will be more entertaining, I promise.

Musicals! And other adventures

Went on Tuesday to see Avenue Q, one of my favorite musicals ever. English school I teach at had group tickets, so a bunch of staff went along to laugh at the antics. How can I not love a musical that starts with "What can you do with a BA in English?" and goes on from there? The jokes about the Japanese immigrant "I'm coming to this country for opportunity" are even funnier now that I've been working to prevent folks from saying that very thing.

Along with that fun, I went out for drinks with some of my current and former students on Wednesday. We had the typical cultural San Francisco experience of having issues deciding on where to go, but finally found a spot that was close and looked good. Only problem is that they brought other friends along too from current classes or what have you, so we had a group of almost 16 trying to find room in bars during happy hour downtown. Went to a couple different ones, then got a big outdoor table (though it was a little chilly). One of them shared these hilarious maps with me: The world according to San Francisco, and Europe according to the US. I like this art a whole bunch, and laughed at things like all of Russia being "Commies". I like the rest of this artist's work as well, check it out!

Worth a giggle or two; I find my stereotype jokes increasing almost daily!

Giving thanks

As many of you know, I love love love coming home to Indiana for Thanksgiving cavorting with the Qualls clan. This year was no exception, though we were thinner on the ground than normal for the actual day.

Perhaps it's having hordes of people to bake for. I got back to the Bloomington homestead 2:30 on Weds after swinging by the grocery store and went into full pie baking mode. The last two came out of the oven (with the help of the lovely Sarah E, also in town for feasting with family) before midnight. 6 pies of various types - not a bad day's work. The cabinet in the garage where these things are staged was full with Kenny, Chuck, Nancy, and my efforts. Delicious efforts at that. Uncle Bill stayed in New Zealand (we missed him and aunt Linda so much!) so I recruited Mark to carve with me. The first turkey was a tender, insane mess and literally fell apart whenever we touched it. Each chopping up though. The smoked one (gracias Knapowskis) was a bit more solid; luckily we'd practiced our moves a bit.

The cousins continue to amuse as they get older; I love how the house is filled with card and game playing, scrabble, mille bornes, even bridge. The running amok within the confines of the house (the rain didn't make me want to leave at all though), the evening singing around the piano, the fact that people show up and we might not even know who they are but welcome them in anyway... and then discreetly figure out who they know in the house.

Last night I got talked into making chocolate chip cookies. And then had everyone watch Scott Pilgrim Vs the World. Hilarity ensued, though last gathering's watching of the Riff Trax Twilight perhaps will never be repeatable. In short, I love seeing folks, baking, and chat chat chatting the week away. What a wonderful time. I'll stop gushing now.

But how excellent it is to have so much to be thankful for, especially after such a rough summer/early fall. Life is gorgeous. For reals.

New metaphors!

Awhile ago I came up with the idea that I was done with the wooden building blocks of relationships and that it's lego time. I like this idea. Blocks slip, they slide, they can splinter (!!!) whereas legos click together, come apart decently easily, can be washed and/or sanitized... much cleaner, much neater, much saner.

This idea obviously has more places to go. Onward!

Some writing from before...

So, I wrote this piece for a modern music festival in April and never posted the link here. I liked it, especially the snarky bio at the end. Volià!

It's over 70 today in San Francisco. Summer? Really?

Baby Beauty Queens? Really?

I’ve been listening to a lot of the Savage Love podcast here recently. I like Dan Savage’s advice (usually), the quirky things that come up on the show, and how it is often sane, sensible advice given to folks who sound like they really and truly need it. (He's also frank and often raw, so if your workplace a is a quiet one, ummm, put on headphones if you're sneaking in a listen there).

It also is a way to get through unpleasant tasks – building Ikea furniture, sorting through that mound of papers I keep needing to sort through, even cleaning out my closet in my parents house full of memories from the first 20-odd years of my life.

So, channeling Dan Savage and my own honed ranting ability, I must confess how shocked and, well, shocked I was to see this tv show called “Toddlers and Tiaras” on TLC today. Yes, there is a show that is about beauty queens under the age of 9. This episode followed a few lovely “ladies” whose ages ranged from 3 to I think 6?

Every scene brought new horror. The mother who says that sometimes you have to be tough, but she supports her daughter and really just wants to be a supportive mother. Her daughter is 3. And is told that her “smile is fake” and that she “won’t win with a fake smile” repeatedly. This girl also gets fake spray tanning done, wears fake hair… has a makeup artist…

Perhaps I’m so riled because these women (there don’t seem to be many dads pushing their young daughters to be beauty queens that I could see) spend OBSCENE amounts of money on their little girls. Dresses, teachers, tanning, hair, nails, entry fees – thousands of dollars. One had spent over $35,000 for the initial “investment” of beauty shots, costumes, etc. Ummm, why don’t you invest that in her college fund? Or make a savings account for future need, a nest egg so that she has options when she finishes high school? Or buy her a toy tiara or two?

Another girl was distinctly bratty, spoiled totally and completely with a-need-to-win complex. She flounced, she rebelled, she fussed. Her mother said over and over “She has a lot of personality.” No. She is stubborn and spoiled and you encourage this behavior. I want to see the show in 10 years where the girls have eating disorders, body image issues, sleep with everything that breathes, get into partying, drugs, alcohol and other acts of rebellion and hear the mothers say they just "don’t understand" what could have caused this. Staring earnestly into the camera: "I’m a good mother, I’ve supported her decisions but I don’t get why she doesn’t think she can ever be good enough."

I’m positive that it was the girls themselves, naturally, who proposed the idea of being mini beauty queens to their mothers. Not the other way around. That instead of praise for what’s been accomplished, the mothers all seemed to hold their breath for the next bigger, better prize. Even though several of them admitted they didn’t understand how the crowning system worked – they still wanted that next big one.

The sight of the little girls wearing rhinestone crowns literally almost half their size… there are no words. Well, there are some. But they aren’t very complimentary ones. These rooms decorated with crowns, sashes, glitter and glitz – the girl who is the youngest of 8 and the only daughter – what are these girls learning about self-worth and looks?

That they obviously go hand and hand.

Perhaps that’s not so insidious, one could say. Our society has long honored the beautiful woman over the plain, over the smart, over the athletic (unless she is both/and of course). These girls are no worse than others who have mothers who push them to have boyfriends at 8, to idolize the Barbie image, to, to, to… I’m still reeling from the images of that show though.

Exploitation anyone?

Because I think it’s wrong. I don’t understand how those judges can do their job, how folks can think that this is a good idea. And I probably never will.

But at least my sister and I can agree that whatever weird or potentially terrible things our parents may have done to us in our youth (when she writes her life story you’ll get all the gory details) that was one thing that they didn’t do – we weren’t toddler beauty queens.

I made the mistake of telling them this. Their response: there are always the grandchildren.

Compassion and its lack

Yesterday brought with it a blinding realization. True, I had often expressed hatred for Yelp and other online review sites (but especially Yelp), but I never had a concrete, iron-clad reason for it. It was more of a miasma of unease, of bad taste left in mouth. Of not liking something because it's cool not to like a popular internet phenomenon (see twitter for more details).

Yelp doesn't promote compassion. In fact, it holds the distinction of doing exactly opposite. Places like this promote critical, unforgiving, unmitigated nastiness. Because there is never any recourse, there are never any repercussions against what might be false, exaggerated, or otherwise untrue.

I was talking with the woman who owns the shop next door about how reading Yelp reviews alone is a bad idea (just like drinking). It makes one angry and upset. She added that it's also a bad idea to look at them before going to work for much the same reasons. Because folks can say things like "you're just a glorified girl scout," on the internet, perhaps thinking they're funny. And maybe they are. But seriously? Really? What is that going to change? Why does the world need to know that you think I have an attitude problem after working a weekend in a busy store basically alone? How will that guide them in their cookie quest? Why do you care enough to post this? Conversely, why do I care what you think of me? (Because I liked to be liked is one reason.)

I mentioned this conversation to Mike and he riposted that I am just as critical. Especially of customers. Fair. But there's a difference between treating someone like a fellow human being and like a subhuman creature. I also don't post my nastiness on the internet but let it die a natural, oral death (most of the time). Thus speaks the service industry worker. What I also like is the idea of a reverse yelp where baristas and other service workers can follow customers to their important office buildings in financial centers or whathaveyou and rate their performance there. 3 stars because you slacked on your copying and phone call responding. 2.5 stars because you were a terrible kiss ass to your boss and she could totally tell.

And then we can post it on the internet for all the world to see.

I think this all comes into perspective as a new bakery/restaurant has opened up nearby. I went on the first day (Saturday) and had to wait a ridiculously long time for my sandwich because, hey, it's the first day and the kitchen is slammed. I get it. I went back yesterday with Sarah for breakfast and things were much smoother. And delicious. Also supernice counter help, even if one guy tried a little too hard to be smooth. Maybe he's new at this waiting game. Maybe that's his style and just not mine. Maybe I'm thinking too much. But what I will do is tell folks with my actual mouth about places I think are worthwhile and listen to what they have to say as well - it's called word-of-mouth I think. You do it by talking.

(She snarkily typed.)

giraffes. just because

I saw this comic on the weekend and cried I was laughing so hard. Can't get the image to display right, so click on the link. Really. You'll love it.

I also will be printing this out and putting it in my wallet.

Been also watching a bunch of Eddie Izzard and laughing a bunch there too - that man is a brilliant mime and excellent at looping his stories together with the oddest of connectors. Mice and the Italian Job; how can you not laugh? Enjoy something funny!

Watched Julie and Julia again last night with Sarah. I hate that she's so obsessed with her blog, her readers. I think that while the discipline of writing daily is a good one, I don't want to be so, ummm, self absorbed? Does that make sense? So pardon if I lean the other way and don't post so often. I'd like to get back to weekly updates. Also being like Julia Childs and living in Paris in a golden age.

Where is the time machine?

Turkey turkey

Thanksgiving still tops my list of holidays, probably because it's when the Qualls family gathers at my house and makes merry for days on end. Was talking with Uncle Jim and Kenny this year and it seems like the tradition has been going on for almost 10 years now. Wow. The cousins are certainly bigger, though the noise level is about the same :)

Things I have learned from my whirlwind trip to Indiana are as follows:

1. When taking a red-eye on the Monday of Thanksgiving week make sure there are no teams on the flight. Even though there were children galore, they made no noise. The teenage girls behind me talking in graphic detail about their pseudo sex lives and general gossip, however, did. At length. And since the plane sat at the gate longer than usual I got to hear all of it since there were no engines on. Glorious.

2. Swimming is fantastic. As it playing badminton with my brother Michael's 3 times a week crew, though still lost. I am much better at badminton and swimming than Guitar Hero or Rock Band. Much, much better.

3. My cousin Aqdas and I have impeccable, frugal fashion sense. We both were wearing the same shirt when she arrived on Wednesday though in different colors. Old Navy does have its uses.

4. White dog when like black = lots of hairs to clean off furniture, clothes, etc. Cassie has learned this lesson with a vengeance.

5. Dinner will never actually be ready to serve at 1 p.m. Carving 2 turkeys makes the 2nd one go faster because Uncle Bill and I have gotten our rhythm back. Carrot souffle is always delicious.

6. Playing Apples to Apples with Yuki's sister was tons of fun and aided by her little pocket translator. Clever.

7. Waking up before 5 a.m. to catch a flight isn't fun, but isn't too hard when you only have to do it once. The Indy airport is incredibly long, though the lines at 6:30 are nonexistent. I'm glad too that I never had to be at coffee shop at 3 a.m. at an airport for work.

I'm sure there's more but I must get ready for work. Getting off a plane and then going to work yesterday was interesting, though I was beyond hungry by the end. Yay for going out to eat with Mike at a Peruvian place we'd never tried; the ceviche was amazing. And a change from holiday festive food. But it was a wonderful holiday - I hope you all had a great time as well!

Just a travelin' lady - US style

With the new job I've found a whole new world that doesn't begin at 4:15 a.m. It's exciting times, though I've been perhaps spending too much money going out to eat and drink in the evenings. What can you do? There are so many delicious places here... but this is not another San Francisco food blog. Not yet anyway.

The end of October had me and Mike heading to Baltimore to visit his parents; they moved in May to Ellicot City and now live in what used to be a huge textile mill (since converted into apartments). It was gorgeous, right on the river with a train track near by and woods. We walked one morning into the little town, just a mile or so along the river on a slightly muddy path. Lots of antiques, little shops that you wonder how they stay open (answer: tourists).

Crab is the food of, well, always in the Baltimore area. First restaurant we went to was a great place right on the water. A crab stuffed pretzel covered with cheese made for delicious - the fact that you could get anything stuffed with crab on the menu was eye-opening. As were the crab cakes. One afternoon met my friend Robin from Earlham down at Fell's Point and explored a gentrifying neighborhood. There was a chess store - with tables for playing - as well as incredible gelato. Sunday we explored the Baltimore Art Museum and saw excellent Matisse print exhibition. The museum was also part of the Antioch mosaic excavation so saw floors from where we'd been in Turkey in '08. It was like seeing old friends unexpectedly. A copy of Rodin's The Thinker completed the glass-walled courtyard.

And then Maggie was there in a flurry of excitement having driven up from D.C. We got snacks and chatted, then drove to have dinner with Mike's folks and chat the evening away. A lovely time overall even if transnational flights seem to never end.

This past Sunday, traveling on the brain, I took off for Tahoe to see Alojzya for the first time. Driving up mountains in the dark late at night perhaps wasn't the most convenient way of doing things, but it was what needed to be done. Tahoe was incredible with its lake, the mountains, the pine forests, the coyotes singing at night... even if high altitudes make me sleepy and everything just a little bit more exhausting. Will post pictures soon!

Tolerance

It's a virtue. Like patience, right? One of those things that I've been working on my whole life.

And yet I've discovered that working with the public five days a week is strangely changing my personality. My capacity for fools is probably about the same, but I can be at least surface-level polite for a longer period of time with those I face across the counter. So that's a plus.

However, now when I have time off I don't want to deal with idiots. At all. And thus my social tolerance has dwindled; I can't stand people who puff themselves up on the first meeting much like a bird in a nature episode. I see your plumage. And your disdain that I work in a coffeeshop instead of a dot com, a non-profit, anything else a trendy liberal arts graduate should be doing in this oh-so-trendy city.

Perhaps it's the cliche that rubs them the wrong way.

I take insult perhaps too quickly, am too harsh in my judgments when we start hanging out. But then again, if who you really are doesn't impress people, why bother trying to change? Sorry, I know the answer to that question - I think I'm suffering from a venue issue. That those who travel seem to do it on trust funds and look at me oddly when I talk about struggling through moving to the US in a period of crisis.

Will just keep keeping on. And hopefully get more phone calls at the right time so I can duck socializing that isn't actually an obligation. Perhaps I need to hide in the woods...

Sunday musings

I'm thrilled because I've procured a ticket home to Indiana for a bit over a week in April (huzzah frequent flyer miles coming in handy for once) AND filed my taxes in the same evening. A burst of productivity to counterbalance the general feeling of blah that working early Sunday morning often brings on (along with naps... those are generally good though).

My sister Cassie just left from spending her spring break here - it was a grand old time, lots and lots of walking around the city (unsurprising I know) and she got to meet some of my friends, eat delicious food, and get a little tan. What more do you need? We spent Friday wandering Berkeley, meeting up with Sally before taking naps on the campus lawn in the sun. Spring must be here.

Yesterday after running to the airport I came out of the BART to find a bunch of police facing off with anti-war protesters - heavy. And disturbing way to come home. Luckily there was an incredible dinner at Cortez to look forward to in the evening; the chef is a regular at Peet's and it was a lovely, delicious time with lots of small plates and bubbles to go with. Who knew that jasmine ice cream 1) was a good idea and 2) went so well with mint-chocolate lava cake? I do now! It was also grand to spend time with all housemates as well as the lovely Maren as we nibbled our way through seemingly countless dishes. I'll be going back for sure.

Things just got to keep getting better. Right?

Quelle surprise!

Did you know there are strikes in France??!?!

I had no idea!

But the BBC does. And watch out world - hopefully no one is trying to travel Thursday in that great nation. Here I thought that groups weren't allowed to strike in support of others - but I guess everyone can agree that the economy is only going downhill. Everywhere.

Roommate hunt still progresses; we had over 25 responses that first day of craigslist ad. Just goes to show - people want to live with people. Or cheaply. Or both.

And one more thing

I'm more than my credit score. Or my bank account balance.

Why can't we find people who happen to be renting a place we want to live in who agree? Is that really too much to ask?