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| Technical Difficulties |
| 06.30.04 (10:59 am) [edit] |
Missed my regular blog last night because I could not get a decent connection from my ISP. Sites would partially download but never finish.
New accountant started at our place. She's already announced that she doesn't approve of swearing in the office, so how long she'll be able to share the same room with the payroll and purchase ledger girl I don't know, since the f word is their favourite adjective.
I've given up my desk for the new person and moved across the hall to Sales Ledger. It's cool--one of the women brings homemade cake every Monday!
Tomorrow night is the regular summer social event for the whole of Accounts. I've said I'll go because the girl who organises it gets so cheesed off if you say no (that social pressure again, Ratty, it's terrible). It won't be unbearable or anything, but I would rather stay home and blog. When the working day is over coming home is like taking refuge. I don't think a lot of other people see it that way.
But I'm definitely saying no to the Xmas party, no matter what. We always choose places where the food is mediocre and the music so loud you can't even shout over it. The younger girls like it because they don't want conversation or food; they just come to get tanked up and show off their nightclub fashions. By 9pm I'm so bored I start trying to have out of body experiences. By 10pm the noise has exhausted me.
Well, that was a bit bitchy, wasn't it? Must be that time of the month.
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| Nanaimo - Retirement City |
| 06.28.04 (11:07 am) [edit] |
Am I too late to join the Poetry Fest? This is what happens when you go away; you miss the good stuff.
As the title suggests, Steve and I took the ferry to Vancouver Island and drove up the coast to Nanaimo to catch up with some friends we haven't seen since they retired and decided to pitch their tent elsewhere. He is a retired minister (Episcopal) and she is one of those natural gardeners.
We had some interesting conversation. The Rev. has always been extremely open minded, more than most Christians I've met. We got to know him in the early 90s when he was trying to organise speakers from other faiths to come teach his congregation. Bless him, he invited members of a local coven to a Halloween social and couldn't understand why they all declined! I had to give him a quick review of the Sabbats.
ANYWAY... we were discussing the new book by Tom Harpur that is currently the No. 2 nonfiction bestseller in Canada. It's called "Pagan Christ" and the author's thesis is that Christianity needs to abandon its literal view of the Bible and realise what historians already know, that the story of Jesus is just one of numerous retellings of ancient myths. Then, in a brave move, Harpur suggests a new spirituality, based on a more pagan approach to mythology and belief.
I hope no one minds that Mrs. Rev and I went online and I let her read your blogs (she very much liked 'White Noise', Ratty. She said she could really relate to that metaphor where you brain feels like a channel that's stopped transmitting for the night. Oh, and I'm relieved to hear that Scabbers and M got the all clear).
It's your Monday poem that really hits me. Here's one of mine, inspired by an unnamed person who once said to me, 'This writing idea is all very well, but you'd be so much happier if you got yourself a real job.'
SMALL FASCISMS
You are strictly forbidden to dream
Constituted, dreams
are crimes against the state of being subversive to the status
quota
You are permitted to pick apples
Where they fall, apples
from branches you can reach from standing by no means may you climb
the tree
And see the stars
You will get ideas above your station
complain about
subsistence joy as it is rationed
by clocking in and clocking out
and being USEDful.
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| The Saturday Afternoon Trivia Show |
| 06.26.04 (10:57 am) [edit] |
With your hostess--ZenCat!
(Theme tune - Oh, the Rat and the ZenCat went to sea
In what would have been a beautiful pea-green boat
If it hadn't been ZenCat's job to decorate it...)
A random inventory of items in and around my desk.
1. Bottle of Olay Classic Beauty Fluid (Sensitive) half full.
2. Roget's Thesaurus
3. Newsletter from the Lighthouse Spiritualist Centre (my dad is Director and Editor)
4. Magnetic oven timer (on the side of my filing cabinet)
5. Recipe for Apple & Blueberry Slump
6. Business card from Dr. Till Geiger, lecturer at the Queen's University of Belfast, whom we met on a hiking trip across Vancouver Island in 1999.
7. Bottle of water, 500ml
8. Wedding photo in pewter frame
9. Handmade applewood pendulum from my dad
10. Fridge magnet (on filing cabinet) with the words, 'Dull women have immaculate houses'.
I pause to put some Olay Beauty Fluid on my dishwashing hands...
I am currently reading "A Short History of Nearly Everything" by Bill Bryson. I am an eclectic reader, the sort who jumps about flea style from this author to that one. Not known for exhausting the work of one author before moving on, but I can't resist Bryson books. Learning and laughing, that's what I get and they are my two favourite activities.
Dinner tonight - will be enchiladas with sour cream, guacamole, tortilla chips and corn with red peppers.
Hershee is asleep on our bed. Aurora is outside, probably engaged in the the feline version of ethnic cleansing (any cat who isn't tortoiseshell, sixteen months old and called Aurora).
Husband Steve has downloaded game software with sixty versions of Spider Solitaire, so no need to entertain him! Steve is a compulsive FreeCell player who has worked his way from game No 1 to No 18250. ZenCat cannot get excited about cards; she prefers Mahjongg and Pinball. Once in a while she goes back to good ol' Tetris.
DID YOU KNOW?
That under Sumerian law (Mesopotamia circa 2500 BC) woman had full citizenship, could own property and businesses. If they ran their husband's business in his absence they could skim off 30% of the profits.
In Sumerian myth, the goddess Inanna was said to have journeyed to the underworld to plead with her sister Ereshkigal for the life of her lover. Instead, Ereshkigal killed Inanna and hung her on a stake for three days and three nights before the gods intervened to raise her from the dead (hmm...echoes of a later myth here?)
Top Ten Things to see when in Vancouver:-
1. Stanley Park
2. Lynn Canyon National Park
3. Gondola to the top of Grouse Mountain
4. Science Centre
5. Granville Island Market
6. The Planetarium
7. Gastown
8. Museum of Anthropology
9. Metrotown Mall
10. White Rock Seafront
Thank you so much for joining me on this do-nothing Saturday afternoon. Hope it's been as enjoyable for you as it has been for me.
- Z
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| Inner Child |
| 06.26.04 (5:30 am) [edit] |
My inner child is ten years old!
The adult world is pretty irrelevant to me. Whether
I'm off on my bicycle (or pony) exploring, lost
in a good book, or giggling with my best
friend, I live in a world apart, one full of
adventure and wonder and other stuff adults
don't understand.
How Old is Your Inner Child?
brought to you by Quizilla
Hey! I did it! I did it!
Except I'm not supposed to get excited by adult things. Did anyone else say a unicorn was their favourite pet? I really wanted to say Pegasus but that wasn't an option.
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| Still Rejected |
| 06.25.04 (10:49 am) [edit] |
Yes, the company firewall doesn't care what I do with my profile. As far as they're concerned, I'm still a menace to society.
Favourite films. My top ten (that's optimism -- I'm not even sure I could think of ten).
1. The Elephant Man
2. The Star Wars movies that WEREN'T written by Lucas
3. American Beauty
4. As Good as it Gets
5. Shakespeare in Love
6. Sixth Sense
7. Galaxy Quest
8. Chicago
9. Dick Tracy
10. Pay Check
It's an eclectic mix, yes. It would probably look less strange if I watched more films.
Okay, now I've sat in front of this screen for thirty minutes and haven't thought of a thing to say. It must be Friday. Ratmagick, I will join you in that cup of tea.
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| Altered Profile |
| 06.24.04 (11:27 am) [edit] |
I've taken the 'p' word out of my profile, that's P-a-g-a-n for the uncertain. I wanted to blog from work but our company firewall has designated me an 'o-c-c-u-l-t' site.
So unreasonable. Just because I eat raw babies and sleep in coffins. :twisted:
Things I read in the paper today:-
1. Nabokov's "Lolita" may have been plagarized from an obscure German novella published forty years earlier.
2. Some teachers are concerned that while school investment in their computer software/hardware is healthy, school libraries are being left to languish. They feel online learning is okay but should not be allowed to replace book learning. I'd love to hear Librarianguish's take on this.
3. I must try that recipe for Lime Marmalade. I wonder if I can add raw baby to that? :wink:
4. Funny Poem - "Engineer's Corner" by Wendy Cope
(Why isn't there an Engineers' Corner in Westminster Abbey? In Britain we've always made more fuss of a ballad than a blueprint...How many school children dream of becoming great engineers? -- Advertisement placed the The Times by the Engineering Council)
We make more fuss of ballads than of blueprints--
That's why so many poets end up rich
While engineers scrape by in cheerless garrets.
Who needs a bridge or dam? Who needs a ditch?
Whereas the person who can write a sonnet
Has got it made. It's always been the way,
For everybody knows that we need poems
And everybody reads them every day.
Yes, life is hard if you choose engineering--
You're sure to need another job as well;
You'll have to plan your projects in the evenings
Instead of going out. It must be hell.
While well-heeled poets ride around in Daimlers
You'll burn the midnight oil to earn a crust
with no hope of a statue in the Abbey,
With no hope, even, of a modest bust.
No wonder small boys dream of writing couplets
And spurn the bike, the lorry and the train.
There's far too much encouragement for poets--
That's why this country's going down the drain.
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| I Accept My Header |
| 06.23.04 (12:50 pm) [edit] |
That's not to say I didn't come [b]so[/b] close to upgrading my account. Pay Pal was malfunctioning yesterday when I tried, and I guess I must have been feeling superstitious because I took that as justification for leaving things the way they were.
I had a tough writing session today. I take a long time to 'warm up', to get to that state of mind where the words come a little easier (I must stress the 'little' part. Today I sat at my PC for two hours and produced 200 words).
During the warm up I was restless. Today I got up from my chair to make a cup of tea. After that was done I felt cold and turned up the heating. Then I got too warm and turned it down. Aurora was sleeping on our bed so I stopped and gave her a long massage between the ears.
I must have wasted an hour, or the better part of one. Then suddenly the switch went in my head. I didn't decide it; it just happened. I stayed sitting. I forgot I was in a room staring at a monitor. Words surfaced like bubbles, not a boil but a slow simmer.
It reminds me of this quote from a favourite book that somehow didn't get onto my lists:-
"But I was talking about productivity, and the abundance that rolls from some creators and the controlled and restrictive anorexia of others; and it might be mentioned that some writers have balance in their lives. Not all writers work at fever pitch, damaging their bodies with drugs and overwork; and neither should we confuse quantity with quality of work. Franz Kafka, who worked as an official in an insurance agency and wrote when he could, agonized over every word."
"Donald Hall, one of the country's most extensively published poets, a former Guggenheim fellow and past poetry editor of the Paris Review, explained in one newspaper interview that his customary turnaround time--the interval between conception of an idea and publication of the poem--is three to five years. The late Philip Larkin, former Poet Laureate, wrote at his own estimation three poems a year."
"Forcing oneself into producing certain kinds of work can dry up productivity almost completely. The short story writer Katherine Anne Porter, at the prodding of her editor to undertake the longer form, took twenty years to write the novel Ship of Fools."
"John Updike does his three pages a day, slow and steady."
"Hemingway kept a chart of his progress on a huge piece of cardboard 'so as not to kid myself'. He wrote five hundred and fifty to six hundred words a day--less than two pages, not much more than three--working assiduously, I'm told, four hours a day. I don't know if this was before his talents were destroyed by alcohol or whether his output grew smaller once he started in to full-time drink."
"Judith Viorst set herself the task of writing one publishable page a day, two hundred and eighty words, slow and steady, one chapter a month. She could get ahead but never fall behind. If she got ahead, she could take a day off. And this she did, writing some months on and some months off until the book was done."
-taken from "For Writers Only" by Sophy Burnham
Yeah, I know, long quote. Every time I decided to stop the next paragraph looked better than the last. I'd forgotten just how good this book is; I should really have added it to the list of those that changed my life. She writes in sound bytes, paragraphs that can be taken on their own, and her chapters are short. She seemed to get her material from everywhere, but it's her personal anecdotes that used to reach out from the book and take me by the throat. Like this one:-
"Once, driving in a car, the poet Anne Hobson Freeman asked me what I was most afraid of in life.
"Of not taking the dare!" I answered passionately.
"What dare?" she asked.
"I don't know! Whatever!" I cried, and tears of passion pricked my eyes. "Of getting to the end of my life and looking back and realizing I could have done it, and I didn't dare to risk."
The car moved on, past the pine trees, a dark gleaming green against a faultless sky. We blinked in the hard glittering autumn light. "What are you most afraid of?" I asked Anne in return.
"Of being drowned in the minutiae of life," she answered quietly. "Of never having time to write."
"It's the same thing," I told her.
Just reading that again makes me cry. And heck, I've bored you all enough. Sorry about that.
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| I Wish I Hadn't Bought This Header Now |
| 06.21.04 (12:31 pm) [edit] |
Well, I had accumulated so many tbucks, and I thought I could change 'Weblog' to 'ZenCat' just by asking to View the Source and editing the HTML.
Phooey. Is there anyway I can go back to my old header?
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| You Know It's Monday When... |
| 06.21.04 (10:29 am) [edit] |
...the CEO turns 65. The champagne picnic his secretaries want to organise becomes such a logistic nightmare that the personnel from several departments are called away from their real work to set up tables and polish the rented glasses. By the time the event starts everyone except the CEO is in a black dog mood; they stand around in their usual cliques drinking their champagne far too quickly...
That was our place today. Thank God I left at noon and missed it. Wouldn't it be nice if we dispensed with office hypocrisy? Bosses could admit they weren't the least bit interested in their employees, and in return the employees could tell the bosses they only work for the money. No pretending to like each other.
I forgot to say that we did go to the Dragon Boats on Saturday. Perfect Factor 30 afternoon. I cheered on the Price Waterhouse Cooper team (or, as they called themselves, the Powerful Wet Chickens) because my cousin used to work for them. Lunch: - falafel in pita bread with dolmades and Greek salad on the side and COOKED BY SOMEONE ELSE. I may like cooking, but not so much that I won't let myself be cooked for.
Sunday did nothing apart from blog, went to an okay BBQ (only one couple there that were worth talking to, but I got to hold the chihuahua puppy again).
In fact, Sunday was so slow I actually used my own link to the Highly Sensitive Person site and took the test again. Sad, terribly sad. I scored 20. Anyone else take it?
Oh, and I found this cool site that will translate your name into Elvish & Hobbit!
http://www.chriswetherell.com/elf/" title="http://www.chriswetherell.com/elf/" target="_blank"http://www.chriswetherell.com...
and
http://www.chriswetherell.com/hobbit/" title="http://www.chriswetherell.com/hobbit/" target="_blank"http://www.chriswetherell.com...
So from now on, you may call me Isilwen Cuthalion or Prisca Bolger of Newbury.
Did a little writing. Just a little. Wouldn't want to strain anything!
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| Watching the Sunrise |
| 06.20.04 (5:53 am) [edit] |
Yes, it's early. This isn't my normal waking time on a Sunday; I want to assure everyone of that. Just now and again, when the sun starts shining so early, I like to creep out of our bedroom, slip on my house coat, quietly make a cup of tea and take it out on our balcony.
I saw a jogger go by just after six. That's dedication. I watched birds on the lawn. I saw two starlings, a robin, a chickadee and a sparrow. I saw a spaniel that had to take itself for a walk.
By then my tea was cold so I thought I'd come inside and talk to everyone here. Did you get through the BBQ all right, gbc? I'm going to one today, though thankfully I do know a couple of people there who can manage the kind of conversations you actually remember later. Do you know what I mean?
Librarianguish - I like the idea of all time favourite books. A number of these happened to be on the bookshelf I detailed some days back. But there are a couple of others:-
1. Diet for a Small Planet by Frances Moore Lappé. While it didn't turn me into a vegetarian, it did make me more aware of my own diet and I think it started my interest in food, food politics, nutrition and cooking.
2. Fat is a Feminist Issue - Suzie Orbach. Read in my teens when I was hiding in closets to binge on tubs of Rocky Road ice cream and then fasting to try and lose the weight. Orbach screwed my head back on straight.
3. The Highly Sensitive Person - Elaine Aron. Psychologist with a theory that 15-20% of babies are born with a hightened sensitivity to everyday stimuli, which are dismissed by current child development theorists as 'introverted'. Aron thinks this isn't giving the whole picture and puts forward her own theory which she has also published in psychiatric journals.
She has a website:-
http://www.hsperson.com/" title="http://www.hsperson.com/" target="_blank"http://www.hsperson.com/
which explains the theory better than I can and has a self-testing section.
4. The Tarot Handbook - Angeles Arrian. This is the book I happened to buy with my first tarot deck. I'm not saying it's better than others, because I've only read a couple of others. But if you use the Thoth deck I think it's better than Aleister Crowley's dreary interpretations included with the cards!
5. Status Anxiety - Alain de Botton. I have this on loan from an e-friend of an e-friend who lives in Chester, England. I've only just noticed how recent it is -- 2004. They told me there was a TV series in England as well, which I hope will come to PBS or Discovery Channel. Basically the book is about how it's no longer acceptable to be low status, i.e. to have only a mediocre job, house or possessions. I think my e-friends thought it would make me feel better in my tiny apartment with my part time filing job!
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| Dragon Boats |
| 06.18.04 (11:03 am) [edit] |
My husband (I must name him, if only because I don't like the sound of 'my husband' as if I can hardly stand him) Steve rang from work to suggest that, instead of sand castles, we should catch the Alcan Dragon Boat Festival. Every year we say 'we must go' but like all locals, we always end up missing it.
http://www.adbf.com/" title="http://www.adbf.com/" target="_blank"http://www.adbf.com/ if you want to see what it's about.
Have about 500 words of Chapter 7 down. Have been trying to work on two chapters at once, the idea being if I feel I can't think of a way forward with one I can switch windows and be productive elsewhere.
I write soooooooo slowly. Maybe 200 words in an hour, not that I'm setting a stopwatch.
Aurora has just sneezed four times. It's not like a cat to sneeze that much. I'll just go check she's okay...
...she looks surprised that I'm so interested. That's when you wish they could talk. I had a dream the other night where an RCSPA officer came to the door and said there had been reports of a cruelly treated cat at this address. Well, I panicked. I let him in and took him straight to the living room where both cats were sleeping on the couch in this zebra striped dog bed that we don't actually own. Then I got out their vet records to show him, plus the address of a couple of neighbours that look after them when we go away. I even said I would let him take them away a couple of days, though I knew it would distress poor Hershee. I just wanted to clear my name.
I think the dream was a reaction to all those well-intentioned but awful commercials the RCSPA put on television. Do you have them in England, gbc? Where they re-enact animals being tormented or abandoned. I cannot watch them; I have to change channels. If I'm made to watch them I feel cramping in my stomach and I cry. I wish I could filter them out with some TV equivalent of a firewall.
Okay, gotta sign off. Tonight is pizza night; I gotta get some dough on the go.
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| Blog will be Brief Today |
| 06.17.04 (10:57 am) [edit] |
Because I want to write my novel instead. The forecast for greater Vancouver is for wall to wall sunshine and we have another BBQ invite for Sunday. Might drive to White Rock beach and build a sand castle.
Dinner tonight will be cauliflower & bacon quiche (recipe snipped from a magazine) with lemon-pepper coleslaw and new potatoes. Will serve just warm. Thinking of making Orange and Chocolate Chip cookies for BBQ...now imagining biting into freshly baked cookie....
Wooh! Gives you shivers.
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| You're Absolutely Right |
| 06.16.04 (12:16 pm) [edit] |
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I did say I wouldn't spend time changing the appearance of my blog. The truth is that green was getting on my nerves. Not my colour.
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| BBQ |
| 06.16.04 (11:55 am) [edit] |
That's why I haven't blogged in 24 hours. My hubby belongs to the Maintenance Committee for our apartment block. They decided to combine their regular meeting with some food eaten outside.
We went to the home of one of the landlords (our block is a mixed bag. We own our place but most rent, and not from the same landlord). Anyway, it was one of those magazine feature places; kitchen the size of Texas and carpets you sink into and the garden had this huge pond with Japanese carp.
They had a twelve week old chihuahua puppy. I like dogs the way I like children--happy as long as someone else owns them. But this little guy really stole my heart because he liked to bury his nose in the folds of my shirt and sleep.
Why ain't it always summer? 8)
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| What Does it Mean? |
| 06.14.04 (11:07 am) [edit] |
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What does it mean when they say 'Bot This Blog'?
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| Self Indulgence |
| 06.14.04 (11:03 am) [edit] |
I'm going to blog about my own blog. Just once, then I shut up.
It's my novel that makes me want to add to yesterday's blog when I was talking about "The Artist's Way" by Julia Cameron.
I've written six chapters so far. Now, "Pilgrim" is not my first attempt at a novel. I've started four others. Starting is so euphoric, like setting out on a quest or taking the first step in a New Year's resolution. The positive energy would keep me going for about...six chapters. Then the car would run out of gas.
Not only that, but the story I thought was so cool and cutting edge had turned into six chapters of cliche, painfully phony dialogue with a faint smell of 'what I did during the summer holidays'. I'd begin to hate the book, hate myself, and ask why I ever, ever thought I could write fiction.
I can't remember how I heard about "The Artist's Way". What I can remember is that I got to the exercises at the end of Chapter One and thought, 'No way. I ain't doin' that.' Cameron demanded that every day I fill three pages of foolscap as fast as I could write. I wasn't to edit anything or stop to correct spelling mistakes or fill in missing punctuation. I wasn't to show anyone what I'd written.
If I couldn't think of what to write I had to repeat the phrase 'I don't know what to write' on the paper until my brain gave me something. She was fanatical about these 'morning pages' and I thought she was nuts. I tried to continue reading the book but all the subsequent exercises asked me to review my morning pages. So about halfway through I broke down and did as I was told.
To make a long story short, I wrote them for the next two years. They made an incredible difference; they seemed to bring out of the depths of me the questions I most wanted answered, the things I really wanted to do as opposed to the things I only thought I ought to want. They let me rage and fret and get to the bottom of my moods. They swept out the psychic cellar.
That's why I wanted to add a comment to yesterday's blog. I think that "The Artist's Way" has to be read before "The Right to Write". The exercises in the first book clear out the blocks that clog the mind and stop the writing coming through. Cameron makes a passing reference to morning pages in "The Right to Write" but she doesn't say how central they are to her method of artistic therapy.
That's the end of my blurt. Thank you so much, those of you who indulged me and read it to the end. Don't invite me to your next party, that's all I advise!
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| Multiple blogs |
| 06.13.04 (10:25 am) [edit] |
Have only just realised that Librarianguish has them. I really like her idea of reviewing the items on her bookshelf, so I'll try it. This is from behind the couch, 3rd shelf up:-
1. The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron - this is my stabilising text, my way back to sanity. Actually, Cameron's 'Morning pages' and blogs have much in common. But I wish someone had given this to me in my twenties when I didn't know why I wasn't happy in any of my jobs and I had this silly, back of my mind dream of writing that seemed childish but was in fact the key to me.
2. Freemasonry by Alexander Piatigorsky. A history of. Bought this only last week and haven't read.
3. Everyday Tao by Deng Ming-Dao. One of those 'thought for the day' type books, but I like Taoism because it's more gritty, less sentimental.
4. The Stone Diaries by Carol Shields. In my opinion one of the top five Canadian novelists.
5. The Cure for Death by Lightening by Gail Anderson-Dargatz - another one in the top five.
6. The Right to Write by Julia Cameron. Yes, it repeats some of the material in The Artist's Way but no, you cannot leave it out. Only Julia and Natalie Goldberg have been able to get me past the fear and dispair of writer's block
7. To Keep the Waters Troubled-The Life of Ida B. Wells by Linda McMurry. I didn't learn any American history at school and that was a shame.
8. Breathing Lessons by Anne Tyler - incredible wit disguised as bone dry realistic fiction.
9. Dance Dance Dance by Hakuri Murakami - hip, young new Japanese novelist. Likes to stick his toes over the lines of accepted reality; probably got lots of rejection slips from editors saying 'we don't publish any fantasy'.
10. Wicca by Vivienne Crowley - no doubt gbc is familiar. The book that introduced me to...
11. Fast Food Nation by Eric Schlosser - scary. Damned scary. You will want to firebomb your local McDonalds, which is also scary.
12. Sumerian Mythology by Samuel Noah Kramer - my leaning toward ancient cultures revealing itself.
13. Microserfs by Douglas Coupland - really must read something else of his.
14. Possession by A.S. Byatt - haven't read yet. Have owned for years!
15. The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan - read twice.
16. Dracula by Bram Stokes - Part One scared me so bad I couldn't sleep. The rest needed a rewrite (in my not-being-very-humble-tod ay opinion).
17. Creative Mythology- The Masks of God by Joseph Campbell. Have started, but it's a think while you read job because Campbell knows his myths and literary allusions better than me. I could be some time with this.
It has been cloudy, started wet but it's brightening a little now. Finished Chapter 6 of my novel, "Pilgrim". I like finishing chapters but I also hate it. I fear the blank page, even though I can't think of a time when it took more than a few minutes to put down at least an opening sentence. Anybody else been writing? Shopping lists don't count.
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| Now Libraianguish... |
| 06.12.04 (1:09 pm) [edit] |
...I took that 'what movie should you be in' test. They told me I'd be perfect in "E.T."
Is this a compliment?
ZenCat
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| Love Letters to Spock |
| 06.11.04 (11:58 am) [edit] |
Ok, it's time to talk Friday talk!!
It has not been all that sunny here in what the weathermen call 'greater Vancouver'. Cloudy, bit muggy--my clothes didn't smell too good when I got home. But I've changed into T-shirt, jeans and bare feet (why can't we go barefoot at work? Oh yeah, I forgot. Rogue staples.)
I had a pretty OK day. Kerry, our Purchase Ledger administrator, needed me to find a misposted invoice and I find it very satisfying when someone needs me and I come up with the goods. The IT Director had a keg of beer delivered to the Post Room (he's Australian, but you hardly need me to tell you).
In a while I'll start preparing dinner. We're going to have cold roast beef, new potatoes, green salad and coleslaw with lemon and ginger dressing.
Oh, but I was going to explain the subject of this blog. Way, way back in the early 1980's a young ZenCat was shown her first episode of Star Trek TOS. She thought it was corny; she mocked the dialogue, the overacting and the ridiculous portrayal of women. She would have fired William Shatner without a second thought.
But secretly...,
Secretly an inexplicable attraction was growing. She would not admit it to her Trekkie friends lest they say, 'Ah ha we knew you'd come over to our way of thinking'. She concealed her emotions, even during the 'Seven Year Itch' episode.
But she did not know about the motion pictures. Her Trekkie friends did not feel her experience was complete without them. She retained the appearance of cool indifference until the final minutes of 'The Wrath of Khan'. And then she blew her cover.
Reflecting on the experience years later, she wrote a poem. A bad poem, but this is a blog so hell...you've probably read worse.
LOVE LETTER TO SPOCK, #1
It is late
and I should have started writing long ago
scribbled something down when I was three
and you were in your prime
What you must think now--well
I suppose it’s neither one thing or the other
or is it half and half?
I am half and half about you
Half wanting the simplicity of wholeness
Be human.
Or be Vulcan--what I don’t know I can study
Be both, and you have something I can’t take without consent
Half of love is wanting to possess
My other half dismisses you, says
you are just an image
of what I still don’t know about myself
hence the attraction.
Perhaps I would make profitable research
into aspects of identity and love in human psyche, whys and wherefores--I
could be first specimen perhaps contribute testimonial data
always helpful in comparative analysis and--
sorry.
If this is to continue
(there is no logical reason why it should)
I must stop trying to invent one
Have a great weekend everybody!
ZenCat
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| Graphically Challenged |
| 06.10.04 (11:35 am) [edit] |
I've been browsing the blogs and it seems I have HTML deficiencies. I hope this is not fatal. If you saw my apartment you'd understand that I just don't [b]do[/b] decoration. My study walls have Star Trek posters (TOS only, I'm afraid. I really, really DID like that guy with the pointed ears). They are stuck on with Blu-Tak and the carpet is a remnant that doesn't fit the room. Behind me is our clothes dryer and our suitcases and a 3kg bag of fusilli pasta, in that order.
Death to interior design. Long live the bohemian revolution!
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| Sick Day |
| 06.10.04 (8:10 am) [edit] |
Didn't go to work today because I'm still not feeling great. I haven't said anything about my job yet. It is quite possibly the least challenging, least responsible job you could get. I file. I scan correspondence and file it using document management software and I do the old-fashioned kind where you need a rubber finger and a knowledge of the alphabet.
I work mornings only, 8:30 to 12:30. It's not that we're rich and can do without the money. I think I'm a bit like gbc (that's my shorthand for gentleblackcat -- please say if you don't like me doing that) I have had more jobs than hot dinners, and I've never found anything that satisfies. I chose to work where I do now because it's the least work I can do and still pay the bills. It leaves me to be boss of my own mind and I'm going to be bullheaded now and say I'm the only person who knows how to manage me. :evil:
OK, my first rant on tBlog. How about that? But if I make myself too excited my temperature might go back up.
Hershee is asleep on my desk right now. She has been blind three years. She knows her way around the apartment and she will come out in the communal garden if one of us stays close by. She is one of those cats that can be touched anywhere, anytime, anyway. She lives to be touched. I had to stroke her until she fell asleep and she keeps waking up--like now...,
Aurora is more aloof. When she wants to say she loves you it is an impressive display, but when it's over it's over and it's nothing personal she just wants to go do other things. If we go out we have to make sure she isn't outside because she follows us like a puppy.
I am reading the dialogues of Plato. It's a copy I've had since I was a teenager, when I thought I would teach myself philosophy (yeah, right). Well, I've read Ion where Socrates argues that every artist must be inspired by the gods because he isn't able to speak intelligently about any art other than the one he practices. Now, is that a load of doo dah or what?
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| Land of the living |
| 06.09.04 (11:00 am) [edit] |
:(
That was me yesterday. I meant to write a blog but some bug caught me and gave me one hell of a headache. It felt like someone had managed to fill up the space between my skull and my brain with water--the pressure built up all round my head and neck and then it felt like the water was coming to a boil!
Anyway, I slept most of Tuesday and today I'm beginning to feel normal--just.
I noticed gentleblackcat has written a lot about favourite books/films/etc. I'll try that.
BOOKS - I think Stephen King's book on writing is brilliant [i]except[/i] I disagree when he says you must write every day or forget it. James Joyce didn't. I subscribe to an English magazine called MsLexia (excellent, wish we had something like it in Canada) and there was a feature article about the different work patterns in male vs. female writers. To sum up, females rarely get a set period of time to write unless they are single and live alone.
I don't read/watch much horror only because I seem to store up the nasty images and replay them at night when I need to sleep. Is there a cure for that? Like I loved "Sixth Sense" but for several days after I could just see that kid who'd got shot in the back of his head. The only book that didn't trigger insomnia was "Interview with the Vampire"--such beautiful prose!
I like Margaret Atwood, Gayle Anderson-Dargatz, Bonnie Burnard and E. Annie Proulx. I guess they would be called literary, and I suppose I like it when a book makes me think while I read. I just finished Jeanette Winterson's "Sexing the Cherry" which is like a poem crossed with a dream crossed with a novel. Bizarre but exquisite.
Films - "American Beauty" blew me away. I still picture that plastic bag blowing in the breeze. "Pay Check" had a good, tight plot; why don't they make more films based on Philip K. Dick's stories?
I used to be a Trekkie...well, more a Spockie. But I seem to have outgrown that. Like my myths ancient now :wink:
Aurora has just come through my study window from the yard. She has been rolling in the dirt somewhere!
ZenCat
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| More about me |
| 06.07.04 (11:51 am) [edit] |
Ok about the pagan thing. I don't think a serious pagan would call me pagan, I mean I don't [b]do[/b] much. A couple of times I cast my own circle and made up a ritual and for a couple of years I read tarot (Thoth deck). My dad is training to become a medium so I learn about spiritualism from him.
I do have a thing about ancient religions/myths. I have done a lot of reading about Sumerian, Canaanite & Egyptian myths. I want to read up on Celtic, Norse and Indian myths sometime.
I do like how Wicca follows the seasons and respects the earth. I get an organic vegetable box and like to cook seasonally. Recipes are always welcome, especially ones that help get rid of a glut of cabbage, beets, cauliflower, etc.
I own two cats. Hershee is a black shorthair female, about six years old and she's blind. Aurora (Rora for short) is barely out of her kitten shoes. She's like a washed out tortoiseshell.
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| Er...um... |
| 06.07.04 (11:25 am) [edit] |
:oops:
I don't actually know what a blog is. But it seems I don't need to, which is cool. I'd love to meet chat to people with cats (I promise I will post photos of mine ASAP). Also love to talk about books--it's so hard to find people who read!
And lastly, I'm trying to write a novel. My very first. I have no idea if I'm doing it right or if there's such a thing as doing it right. If anyone is in the same boat it would be great to hear from you.
ZenCat
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