. . . apparently, I have become one of those people who responds to Craigslist ads with rug advice. Completely unsolicicted advice. Because someone needed a bit of education dropped on them (you can't have a rug that is both Persian and Oriental unless there have been some geographical changes I was not made aware of in the past few days). And I know when you show a tag from my former store and you only show the one side that has the MSRP and not the price you actually paid and you are trying to get someone to pay more than you paid for a rug - well, that is just cheating. And for a tufted rug with a life expectancy that is already more than halfway over, and you're promising it is in prime condition, well, you're either a schmoozler or you could benefit from a wee bit o' education. I choose to believe the educate bit.
Yeah, I actually sent an in-depth rug education email to a stranger on Craigslist. Fighting the good battle. On the other hand, I have totally toned down my need to coyly flip over the sides of rugs to see where they are made or to point out to Justin while we are watching HGTV if the homeowners on those Million Dollar Listing shows were being cheap or being authentic in their handknotted rugs. I'm slowly breaking my rug snobbery: I am confident it will be relaced with something else, no worries.
Something like, my chickens are better than those chickens!
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
so last night . . .
. . . we finally caught up with Game of Thrones on the HBO GO website to where our DVR started recording for the season which means we finally got to see our first one ON THE BIG SCREEN! No tiny lap top with both of us scrunching our heads together to watch the machinations of evil King Joffrey.
I may have to just turn this into a blog about GoT.
Seriously, though, we are almost caught up with the season. And I continue to go between being irritated when the writers change things from the book to being understanding, as though being understanding is somehow a superior state. (Ah, yes. As a writer, I "get it" that you must make Joffrey an evil sex toad to further illustrate his evility.)
I love a post in which I get to use the word evility.
Speaking of evil, the chickens are revolting (as in a verb, not an adjective). They don't like being fenced in and somehow are able to squeeze those chicky bodies under the chainlink fence. They go from being the size of a two pound chicken to the space of a square inch. I'm no mathematician, but this seems against Einstein's theory. Other than that, they are so cute! And chickenly. Pictures coming soon. I am still healing from my encounter with the poison oak and sumac and ivy that pretty much covers the entire chicken space, so I prefer to watch them from inside. I know, I know. Poor excuse. Goal of week: chicken pictures.
I may have to just turn this into a blog about GoT.
Seriously, though, we are almost caught up with the season. And I continue to go between being irritated when the writers change things from the book to being understanding, as though being understanding is somehow a superior state. (Ah, yes. As a writer, I "get it" that you must make Joffrey an evil sex toad to further illustrate his evility.)
I love a post in which I get to use the word evility.
Speaking of evil, the chickens are revolting (as in a verb, not an adjective). They don't like being fenced in and somehow are able to squeeze those chicky bodies under the chainlink fence. They go from being the size of a two pound chicken to the space of a square inch. I'm no mathematician, but this seems against Einstein's theory. Other than that, they are so cute! And chickenly. Pictures coming soon. I am still healing from my encounter with the poison oak and sumac and ivy that pretty much covers the entire chicken space, so I prefer to watch them from inside. I know, I know. Poor excuse. Goal of week: chicken pictures.
Friday, May 18, 2012
game of thrones . . .
. . . is wickedly addicting! I won't give any spoiler alerts, promise. What I will write is that I started by reading the first book and the first HBO season stayed pretty close to the storyline. However, the second book and season are beginning to diverge in some ways. Never get attached to a character! Talk about killing your darlings! George R.R. Martin not only took that leaf from Flannery, he outright stole it: twice. (With a double R in your name, you must expect a pun somewhere.)
So here is where I love the varying mediums of books and film. (Yes, I am lumping HBO into film for simplicity's sake.) Take the character of Tyrion. In the book, I found him to be rather tiring - too many quips for a man so short on conventional charm that it was hard to believe he'd ever make it as far as he had. In the series, I can't get enough. His wit is endlessly fascinating and always on par. I'd like him to be a bit more evil - he's a Lannister after all. But the long and short of it is that the character is enhanced by seeing him in both ways. My appreciation of him is that much greater.
Which brings me to one of my larger adaptional disappointments: Twilight. The books were so open to interpretation - not written in stone the way that Martin held his characters (perhaps a sign of strength of writing or style difference), but the films just fell flat. Only the last one held any true interest and that may have been an accidental stroke of luck. Everything is so layered in the Game series (book and film) whereas the layering the author tried to allud to in the books in Twilight were left totally behind in the need for a "really cool" soundtrack and "spooky" lighting and a ridiculous budget on hairgel. Oh, if only we could have a great big re-do of those movies.
If only!
So what I'll take from this is that there is one more Twilight movie left to enjoy (I figure I may as well, seeing as how Bella's at least going to arm wrestle Emmett now), a few more shows of season two to catch up on for Game of Thrones and at least as many books as Mr. Martin would like to write. Which means a lot to take in, think over, brood over (don't even get me started on casting choices), and ways to procrastinate my own writing. Cheers!
So here is where I love the varying mediums of books and film. (Yes, I am lumping HBO into film for simplicity's sake.) Take the character of Tyrion. In the book, I found him to be rather tiring - too many quips for a man so short on conventional charm that it was hard to believe he'd ever make it as far as he had. In the series, I can't get enough. His wit is endlessly fascinating and always on par. I'd like him to be a bit more evil - he's a Lannister after all. But the long and short of it is that the character is enhanced by seeing him in both ways. My appreciation of him is that much greater.
Which brings me to one of my larger adaptional disappointments: Twilight. The books were so open to interpretation - not written in stone the way that Martin held his characters (perhaps a sign of strength of writing or style difference), but the films just fell flat. Only the last one held any true interest and that may have been an accidental stroke of luck. Everything is so layered in the Game series (book and film) whereas the layering the author tried to allud to in the books in Twilight were left totally behind in the need for a "really cool" soundtrack and "spooky" lighting and a ridiculous budget on hairgel. Oh, if only we could have a great big re-do of those movies.
If only!
So what I'll take from this is that there is one more Twilight movie left to enjoy (I figure I may as well, seeing as how Bella's at least going to arm wrestle Emmett now), a few more shows of season two to catch up on for Game of Thrones and at least as many books as Mr. Martin would like to write. Which means a lot to take in, think over, brood over (don't even get me started on casting choices), and ways to procrastinate my own writing. Cheers!
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
writing. . .
. . . is like getting a chicken to admit that dogs are useful. Or vice versa. You go around and around, logic stats, charts with color coded meanings and in the end, you are left with the same result: neighbors who wish you'd move.
Happy to oblige!
I am moving to the country, which is ultimately why we came out to the Blue Ridge Mountains after all, right? Scenery. Cows. Horses. Chickens. Tired of traffic, crime (which does exist here, surprisingly, on my street), and I'm not all that kosher on my conservative neighbors who hate gays. Really? In this day and age? I suppose each generation must wait for another to die off before progress is really pushed forth. At some point, being an Athiest may not -- good God, what am I saying?
Yeah, this is the South. But the South is a-changing my friends. Because people like me keep coming here! Yay!
So the writing is going, but I have discovered to my great chagrin that my character is a rather depressed woman. Like, I want to give her a pep talk. Steer her clear of this trouble she's creating for herself. But she won't. She just keeps on going. So I'm letting her go and we'll see where she lands.
On the other hand, Gemma keeps asking where her book is. I told her I was writing her one (which I am), but my focus seems to be on one thing at a time and so her little book is on the back burner. Bad, bad mothering.
Hoping for a swift move, a swift unpack and house arranging, and a little table in the garden with the chickens for more conversation and a Virginia Woolfesque writing life devoted to something really, really artful. I almost want to start a publication. Almost.
Happy to oblige!
I am moving to the country, which is ultimately why we came out to the Blue Ridge Mountains after all, right? Scenery. Cows. Horses. Chickens. Tired of traffic, crime (which does exist here, surprisingly, on my street), and I'm not all that kosher on my conservative neighbors who hate gays. Really? In this day and age? I suppose each generation must wait for another to die off before progress is really pushed forth. At some point, being an Athiest may not -- good God, what am I saying?
Yeah, this is the South. But the South is a-changing my friends. Because people like me keep coming here! Yay!
So the writing is going, but I have discovered to my great chagrin that my character is a rather depressed woman. Like, I want to give her a pep talk. Steer her clear of this trouble she's creating for herself. But she won't. She just keeps on going. So I'm letting her go and we'll see where she lands.
On the other hand, Gemma keeps asking where her book is. I told her I was writing her one (which I am), but my focus seems to be on one thing at a time and so her little book is on the back burner. Bad, bad mothering.
Hoping for a swift move, a swift unpack and house arranging, and a little table in the garden with the chickens for more conversation and a Virginia Woolfesque writing life devoted to something really, really artful. I almost want to start a publication. Almost.
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