Today was a long, brutal slog through the most difficult parts of my novel, but I'm thrilled and relieved to say that I met my goal for the weekend and finished the second draft of my novel!
I woke up early this morning, of my own volition, and was sitting at my desk and writing by 8:30am. When I told my dad this over the phone later in the day, he basically implied that I must have a fever -- but the need to finish the draft was weighing on me. I spent the morning writing the epilogue, stopping around eleven to heat and eat some frozen enchiladas. I took a break after that, but the break was still writing-related; I had an idea for how to start out a query letter to find an agent, and when I wrote it down, I ended up writing the whole thing. It's something that I'm going to play around with for the next couple of months, since I want the letter to be as perfect as possible, but I think I made a good start.
After that, I took a shower, then settled down and wrote some more before taking another break in the late afternoon for my weekly call with my parents. My dad mentioned that, after reading yesterday's blog post, he debated writing the consummation scene for me -- but I politely turned him down by pointing out that he would likely use too many verbs and not enough adjectives. Ugh. I ran to Starbucks for an iced latte, mostly because I felt that I should step outside the apartment at least once, and then promptly locked myself up again to finish the book.
And other than a brief conversation with my brother, and a break to reheat some of the chili I froze a couple of weeks ago, I've written straight since five p.m. But the last brutal push was worth it. Over the course of the day, I successfully completed the epilogue, wrote/rewrote several connecting scenes between major portions of my book, and wrote the dreaded consummation scene (using *lots* of adjectives, and only one use of 'manroot', which is my favorite absurd romance novel euphemism).
It's finally ready to send off for feedback, although the thought of other people reading it is about as creepy-crawly-freaky as the thought of giving my next business presentation naked. There is something incredibly dangerous about opening yourself up like that -- after pouring my heart into 400 pages of this book, it's as much a part of me as, well, me. But I'm also committed to making it better, and to selling it, and to writing another one, and the only way I will accomplish any of that is through honest, unflinching feedback. Luckily, most of the people who would be good to give feedback on it live far away, and so I won't have to actually *see* any disappointed faces...just infer it from their emailed responses.
So that was my weekend. Is it any wonder that I feel more exhausted than I have at the end of most of my workweeks? Too bad I have to go to the office tomorrow; but while tomorrow will be packed with meetings and clearing my inbox from my birthday vacation, the rest of the week doesn't look too bad. And I'm not going to look at my manuscript again for at least a week -- I think I need to spend some time socializing and recharging before I go back to it again.
The only other thing of note is that it's Terry's birthday! Happy birthday Terry! And with that, it's time for bed.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Sunday, September 14, 2008
the owls are not what they seem
I finally got down to writing today, after procrastinating in the morning while trying to decide whether to procrastinate even more by going to Sephora and Crate and Barrel. I ultimately decided against shopping, instead having another delicious panini before going to my now-favorite tea place to work on the book.
The problem with the tea place is that it encourages me to drink a lot of tea in a short period of time, which a) cuts down productivity since it makes me have to go to the bathroom every ten minutes, and b) gives me a caffeine and sugar overdose that takes awhile to come down from. However, I overheard a couple working with one of the staffmembers to plan a private party, and I realized that it would be an awesome place to celebrate the launch of my book if it ever gets published.
Fueled by that happy dream, I spent most of the day and evening on the book, and made pretty good progress. I finally sucked it up and rewrote the opening chapters, which was not a task that I was looking forward to, but now it's done. I'll likely rewrite them again after getting feedback, since I want to make them as engaging as possible because it's those chapters that make or break agent/editor queries, but they're at least in better shape than they were. I also smoothed out the chapter transitions and did some fact-checking/researching for the next two hundred pages, so I'm closing in on the final things to do before asking for readers.
One of the things left is the consummation scene; I got halfway through it last spring, stopped to have dinner with my aunt and her scandalous fiance, and ended up skipping the rest of the scene to keep going with the momentum that I had to finish the book. I thought that wine might help to set the appropriate mood, and I was also in the mood for soup, so I came home from the tea shop, made some French onion soup and opened a half-bottle of pinot noir. The soup turned out well, but I forgot to buy gruyere to put on top, and the monterey jack I had lying around didn't taste quite right. The wine was delicious too, but it made me sleepy rather than ready to write about the sexual escapades of the earl and countess, so I just did other edits instead. Since wine is out, and I don't have any matches to light my mood-setting candles, I suppose I'll just have to write about sex while listening to electronica music tomorrow, and try to remember while Crystal Method is pulsating in the background that glowsticks and ecstasy were not readily available in the Regency period.
I honestly don't know if I can accomplish my goal of finishing the second draft tomorrow, but I need to make a valiant effort, so in the interest of doing that, it's time for bed!
The problem with the tea place is that it encourages me to drink a lot of tea in a short period of time, which a) cuts down productivity since it makes me have to go to the bathroom every ten minutes, and b) gives me a caffeine and sugar overdose that takes awhile to come down from. However, I overheard a couple working with one of the staffmembers to plan a private party, and I realized that it would be an awesome place to celebrate the launch of my book if it ever gets published.
Fueled by that happy dream, I spent most of the day and evening on the book, and made pretty good progress. I finally sucked it up and rewrote the opening chapters, which was not a task that I was looking forward to, but now it's done. I'll likely rewrite them again after getting feedback, since I want to make them as engaging as possible because it's those chapters that make or break agent/editor queries, but they're at least in better shape than they were. I also smoothed out the chapter transitions and did some fact-checking/researching for the next two hundred pages, so I'm closing in on the final things to do before asking for readers.
One of the things left is the consummation scene; I got halfway through it last spring, stopped to have dinner with my aunt and her scandalous fiance, and ended up skipping the rest of the scene to keep going with the momentum that I had to finish the book. I thought that wine might help to set the appropriate mood, and I was also in the mood for soup, so I came home from the tea shop, made some French onion soup and opened a half-bottle of pinot noir. The soup turned out well, but I forgot to buy gruyere to put on top, and the monterey jack I had lying around didn't taste quite right. The wine was delicious too, but it made me sleepy rather than ready to write about the sexual escapades of the earl and countess, so I just did other edits instead. Since wine is out, and I don't have any matches to light my mood-setting candles, I suppose I'll just have to write about sex while listening to electronica music tomorrow, and try to remember while Crystal Method is pulsating in the background that glowsticks and ecstasy were not readily available in the Regency period.
I honestly don't know if I can accomplish my goal of finishing the second draft tomorrow, but I need to make a valiant effort, so in the interest of doing that, it's time for bed!
Saturday, September 13, 2008
you've got to change your slothful ways
I spent the day procrastinating. I started off with good intentions -- I would get up, go to my facial appointment, and then write for the rest of the day. I accomplished one of those two things, and given that only one of them would result in a charge on my credit card if I didn't do it, you can guess which one I did.
The facial was awesome. I was a little surprised when I walked in to discover that the aesthetician was a man; I've never gotten a facial from a guy before, although I have had other memorable facial experiences that I knew would not be topped by a guy in lawsuit-happy America. But despite my initial qualms, it turned out to be the best facial I've ever had -- he excelled at facial and head massage, and I left with clean skin and a sense of incredible well-being. Hopefully I can start going semi-regularly, since I enjoy facials even when I have to walk through the urban wasteland of the Tenderloin to receive them.
On the way back from the spa, I stumbled across this store called You Say Tomato -- it's a British grocery store. I went in and didn't spend any time looking over the merchandise, since it could be dangerous for me -- but I found what I was looking for immediately, in the form of my favorite brand of tea from Ireland. My last stash ran out before I went home for my leave of absence, but it's great that I now have a steady supply. From there I went to Whole Foods, where I spent a lot of money on yuppie-ish foodstuffs that I then had to drag back to my apartment.
The yuppie-ish foodstuffs went straight into my first attempt at using the panini press that my parents gave me for my birthday, and the sandwich was a smashing success. It contained whole wheat bread, fancy deli-sliced pepper-rubbed turkey, pepperjack cheese, tomatoes, roasted red peppers, dijon mustard, and guacamole, and it was simply fantastic. The typical problem with homemade sandwiches is that your fridge can't compete with the well-stocked, constantly-rotating ingredients in a professional sandwich shop. I decided to just commit to either eating sandwiches nonstop for the next two weeks or throwing out the rotting remnants if I can't get through everything, and the decision has already paid off.
After that, I really should have written...but I perhaps exaggerated the progress that I had made yesterday in reorganizing my apartment. While my closet was much improved by yesterday's activities, I had three boxes of books that I needed to find a home for, and my filing system and the general area around my desk was in shambles. So I spent the afternoon and evening resolving those issues -- the books were a dangerous time-sink, but I only wasted an hour rereading part of a book that I hadn't read in a long time, which is better than the *days* that it used to take me to sort and put away books. I also filed or recycled all of the semi-important documents that have come in over the past couple of months, crossed a bunch of paperwork off my list, and have made my desk usable. Yay.
Now, though, my apartment leaves little additional room for procrastination -- other than some towels and sheets that need washed and a couple of things that I need to haul down to my car, I'm pretty much settled in. Of course, I could always go to Sephora or Crate and Barrel, and at some point I want to hang my bulletin board and some art/photos, but I really need to write tomorrow and Sunday. And I suppose that if I should write tomorrow, I should really go to bed now so that I can get started with the arduous process of finishing this draft.
But one more thing first. I meant to wish a happy birthday to Carol yesterday -- she's my mother's friend whom I saw a lot of while I was growing up, and she also happens to share a birthday with me. I should have said happy birthday yesterday, but I blame the two green tea mojitos for my lapse in etiquette. Goodnight!
The facial was awesome. I was a little surprised when I walked in to discover that the aesthetician was a man; I've never gotten a facial from a guy before, although I have had other memorable facial experiences that I knew would not be topped by a guy in lawsuit-happy America. But despite my initial qualms, it turned out to be the best facial I've ever had -- he excelled at facial and head massage, and I left with clean skin and a sense of incredible well-being. Hopefully I can start going semi-regularly, since I enjoy facials even when I have to walk through the urban wasteland of the Tenderloin to receive them.
On the way back from the spa, I stumbled across this store called You Say Tomato -- it's a British grocery store. I went in and didn't spend any time looking over the merchandise, since it could be dangerous for me -- but I found what I was looking for immediately, in the form of my favorite brand of tea from Ireland. My last stash ran out before I went home for my leave of absence, but it's great that I now have a steady supply. From there I went to Whole Foods, where I spent a lot of money on yuppie-ish foodstuffs that I then had to drag back to my apartment.
The yuppie-ish foodstuffs went straight into my first attempt at using the panini press that my parents gave me for my birthday, and the sandwich was a smashing success. It contained whole wheat bread, fancy deli-sliced pepper-rubbed turkey, pepperjack cheese, tomatoes, roasted red peppers, dijon mustard, and guacamole, and it was simply fantastic. The typical problem with homemade sandwiches is that your fridge can't compete with the well-stocked, constantly-rotating ingredients in a professional sandwich shop. I decided to just commit to either eating sandwiches nonstop for the next two weeks or throwing out the rotting remnants if I can't get through everything, and the decision has already paid off.
After that, I really should have written...but I perhaps exaggerated the progress that I had made yesterday in reorganizing my apartment. While my closet was much improved by yesterday's activities, I had three boxes of books that I needed to find a home for, and my filing system and the general area around my desk was in shambles. So I spent the afternoon and evening resolving those issues -- the books were a dangerous time-sink, but I only wasted an hour rereading part of a book that I hadn't read in a long time, which is better than the *days* that it used to take me to sort and put away books. I also filed or recycled all of the semi-important documents that have come in over the past couple of months, crossed a bunch of paperwork off my list, and have made my desk usable. Yay.
Now, though, my apartment leaves little additional room for procrastination -- other than some towels and sheets that need washed and a couple of things that I need to haul down to my car, I'm pretty much settled in. Of course, I could always go to Sephora or Crate and Barrel, and at some point I want to hang my bulletin board and some art/photos, but I really need to write tomorrow and Sunday. And I suppose that if I should write tomorrow, I should really go to bed now so that I can get started with the arduous process of finishing this draft.
But one more thing first. I meant to wish a happy birthday to Carol yesterday -- she's my mother's friend whom I saw a lot of while I was growing up, and she also happens to share a birthday with me. I should have said happy birthday yesterday, but I blame the two green tea mojitos for my lapse in etiquette. Goodnight!
Friday, September 12, 2008
sara's big city adventure
Today was my birthday, and I did not participate in any of the obligatory somber national mourning. This is not out of any lack of respect/sympathy (although I have been accused of lacking both at various points in the past), but because if I don't celebrate my birthday, the terrorists have won.
I had a truly excellent day! I talked to several family members on the phone, as well as Katie, Lauren, and Irish Matt. I received a multitude of v. kind emails, e-cards, text messages, and Facebook posts, which was quite nice. I also spent most of the day lamely engaged in cleaning out my closet and doing laundry, but I'm happy that I did so because now I can focus on the book for most of the rest of the weekend. And, Charles the doorman just rolled his eyes when I received not one, not two, but FOUR packages today!
Three were things that I had ordered myself: a dictionary of English surnames (to go with the dictionary of English Christian names that I already received), a few great notebooks, and a brand new fountain pen that is my birthday present to myself. It's a sky blue color with 'stars' embedded in it, and I've wanted it for well over a year, so I'm quite happy. But the fourth package was the best -- Aunt Becky's promised package arrived, and I eagerly dug into it. I soon questioned what kind of trouble she expected me to get into on my birthday -- the package contained a mini sample kit of Bobbi Brown cosmetics, a sample eye cream, a sample night moisturizer, and one pair of underwear. Strange, but v. entertaining. She also sent me a gift card to Sephora, my favorite place in the world, and addressed it to my romance novelist pen name, which was a sweet touch. You'll be pleased to note that my scandalous activities tonight did not involve me losing my panties, but I'm sure I'll make use of the rest of the gift in the near future.
The official birthday festivity was a low-key dinner at Osha Thai on 2nd St. John, Oniel, Oniel's gf Kathryn, Terry, Julie, and Tom. When I picked the restaurant, I was only remembering my experience there with Irish Matt in July, when we had a cozy, boozy lunch for two; during lunch, we sat at a table with real chairs, and I loved it. But the chairs made me forget the experience I had at Osha Thai before that, and that we had again tonight -- if you're in a group, you have to sit at the seats that are basically broad, backless, cushionless benches, which, while fun and trendy, is not exactly comfortable.
However, the company, the food, and my two green tea mojitos more than made up for it. It was the first time I'd seen Tom since his going-away party in February, but like me, he's back in the area, and I think we're going to meet up at a cafe and write tomorrow afternoon. It was also the first time I'd seen Oniel's girlfriend since Chris/Connie's wedding, since she was boycotting the Olympics and incurred some serious wrath/skepticism from me as a result. My friends were v. nice and not only paid for dinner, but got the staff to dim the lights and bring out some fried bananas with a candle while singing 'happy birthday' (my friends each used their own preferred nickname, so I doubt strangers could understand who the song was for). There was one ridiculous moment where Oniel claimed that I had never verified that we were friends before, which is patently ridiculous since we've known each other for nine years, and then that gave me a moment's pause when I realized that I've known John and Oniel for nine years, Terry for seven, and Julie and Tom for six. Crazy.
True to form, I pre-judged something (in this case, the pumpkin curry that John ordered, which in my defense sounded disgusting, mostly because the 'shit in a pot' dish that we had at our hotel in Ukraine was filled with nasty stewed pumpkin) which turned out to be my favorite thing. My curse is truly a curse -- anytime I claim that I don't like something or don't want to do it (moving to the city, working for my current employer, getting a blackberry, staying in California, eating pumpkin curry), I inevitably end up doing a complete 180. Now Oniel's holding out for me to do the 180 on my refusal to go to business school and my refusal to support him via a cushy fake job after the fact -- and given my track record, he's making a reasonably safe bet.
After dinner, we parted ways, and Oniel and Kathryn showed me the mysterious intricacies of the bus system. I walked the 1.5 miles to the restaurant because I like that walk (through the Tenderloin, where I saw someone peeing against a wall, and straight into the upscale Prada, Burberry, Tiffany, etc. stores lining the blocks around Union Square), and I intended to take a taxi home, but the bus was significantly cheaper even if it also took longer. That's fine for now, but now that I'm 27, I can't keep wasting time like this or else I'll die without accomplishing anything.
On that extremely melodramatic note, it's time for bed. When I wake up tomorrow, it won't be my birthday anymore :( At least I'm taking the day off so that I can mourn!
I had a truly excellent day! I talked to several family members on the phone, as well as Katie, Lauren, and Irish Matt. I received a multitude of v. kind emails, e-cards, text messages, and Facebook posts, which was quite nice. I also spent most of the day lamely engaged in cleaning out my closet and doing laundry, but I'm happy that I did so because now I can focus on the book for most of the rest of the weekend. And, Charles the doorman just rolled his eyes when I received not one, not two, but FOUR packages today!
Three were things that I had ordered myself: a dictionary of English surnames (to go with the dictionary of English Christian names that I already received), a few great notebooks, and a brand new fountain pen that is my birthday present to myself. It's a sky blue color with 'stars' embedded in it, and I've wanted it for well over a year, so I'm quite happy. But the fourth package was the best -- Aunt Becky's promised package arrived, and I eagerly dug into it. I soon questioned what kind of trouble she expected me to get into on my birthday -- the package contained a mini sample kit of Bobbi Brown cosmetics, a sample eye cream, a sample night moisturizer, and one pair of underwear. Strange, but v. entertaining. She also sent me a gift card to Sephora, my favorite place in the world, and addressed it to my romance novelist pen name, which was a sweet touch. You'll be pleased to note that my scandalous activities tonight did not involve me losing my panties, but I'm sure I'll make use of the rest of the gift in the near future.
The official birthday festivity was a low-key dinner at Osha Thai on 2nd St. John, Oniel, Oniel's gf Kathryn, Terry, Julie, and Tom. When I picked the restaurant, I was only remembering my experience there with Irish Matt in July, when we had a cozy, boozy lunch for two; during lunch, we sat at a table with real chairs, and I loved it. But the chairs made me forget the experience I had at Osha Thai before that, and that we had again tonight -- if you're in a group, you have to sit at the seats that are basically broad, backless, cushionless benches, which, while fun and trendy, is not exactly comfortable.
However, the company, the food, and my two green tea mojitos more than made up for it. It was the first time I'd seen Tom since his going-away party in February, but like me, he's back in the area, and I think we're going to meet up at a cafe and write tomorrow afternoon. It was also the first time I'd seen Oniel's girlfriend since Chris/Connie's wedding, since she was boycotting the Olympics and incurred some serious wrath/skepticism from me as a result. My friends were v. nice and not only paid for dinner, but got the staff to dim the lights and bring out some fried bananas with a candle while singing 'happy birthday' (my friends each used their own preferred nickname, so I doubt strangers could understand who the song was for). There was one ridiculous moment where Oniel claimed that I had never verified that we were friends before, which is patently ridiculous since we've known each other for nine years, and then that gave me a moment's pause when I realized that I've known John and Oniel for nine years, Terry for seven, and Julie and Tom for six. Crazy.
True to form, I pre-judged something (in this case, the pumpkin curry that John ordered, which in my defense sounded disgusting, mostly because the 'shit in a pot' dish that we had at our hotel in Ukraine was filled with nasty stewed pumpkin) which turned out to be my favorite thing. My curse is truly a curse -- anytime I claim that I don't like something or don't want to do it (moving to the city, working for my current employer, getting a blackberry, staying in California, eating pumpkin curry), I inevitably end up doing a complete 180. Now Oniel's holding out for me to do the 180 on my refusal to go to business school and my refusal to support him via a cushy fake job after the fact -- and given my track record, he's making a reasonably safe bet.
After dinner, we parted ways, and Oniel and Kathryn showed me the mysterious intricacies of the bus system. I walked the 1.5 miles to the restaurant because I like that walk (through the Tenderloin, where I saw someone peeing against a wall, and straight into the upscale Prada, Burberry, Tiffany, etc. stores lining the blocks around Union Square), and I intended to take a taxi home, but the bus was significantly cheaper even if it also took longer. That's fine for now, but now that I'm 27, I can't keep wasting time like this or else I'll die without accomplishing anything.
On that extremely melodramatic note, it's time for bed. When I wake up tomorrow, it won't be my birthday anymore :( At least I'm taking the day off so that I can mourn!
Thursday, September 11, 2008
double bonus
When I got home from work, Charles the doorman made fun of me because I had yet another package. I talked to Aunt Becky earlier in the day and she indicated that she had sent me a birthday present, so when I saw the Crate and Barrel box, I thought it was from her. But no -- it turns out that when I suggested to my parents that they could get me a panini grill or a French press coffee maker, they decided to get me both! Yay! Thanks parents! I should have known it was from them, since Aunt B tends to go in more for gifts like the lovely Hello Kitty calculator that graces my desk (and which I actually used last week) -- but it's exciting to know that I still have another present in the mail. I also got a birthday card from my grandmother, but I saved it so that I have something to open tomorrow.
In other birthday-related news, my team surprised me today. Heather and Pete (the two managers who report to me and with whom I went out last weekend) brought a donkey-shaped pinata to today's team meeting. I may have astonished the team with my level of aggression because, when confronted with the issue of having no stick with which to beat the pinata and no string with which to hoist it up, I used a pen to stab it open. Then, when I got back to my desk, I discovered that they had absolutely destroyed it with streamers and ribbons, so I couldn't sit down or dock my computer. And, they got me a lovely birthday card with a horse magnet (you can see they're as weird as I am, which is why we're working well together), so I was quite happy.
I really am like a small child when it comes to my birthday. So far, I have yet to hit a birthday with which I am not delighted -- I may not be thrilled that I'm 27, which is one step closer to death, but I am at least happy about the day itself. I suppose I should say that September 11, 2001, was not delightful -- but I was delighted about my birthday up until the moment when I saw the news coverage.
Anyway, I'm taking tomorrow and Friday off, and I made a list of what I want to accomplish this weekend. It's really quite a bit, but I love being overly ambitious. Topping the list are a) finish the second draft of the novel, b) get a pedicure and maybe a facial, c) reorganize my closet so that the other half of it is usable, and d) do the ten loads of laundry that have piled up. Most of this laundry is either towels/bedding that I don't have an incentive to do often because I have so much backup, or wintery/dressy clothes that remained packed up because I haven't had a need for them yet. But fall is around the corner, and I need to wash the stuff that has been sitting in suitcases and get a massive amount of dry cleaning done so that I can look like a promising young professional rather than a slovenly hag.
I'm obviously not going to be productive the whole weekend, though. Even though I want to spend a lot of time on the book, I also want to see friends, and so I organized a small birthday dinner for tomorrow night, which should be fun. I'm also debating checking out the Ming exhibit at the Asian Museum of Art. But in general, the book is the main focus -- twenty-seven isn't bad if it's the start of a career in writing, as opposed to yet another small step in the long slog toward corporate retirement.
In other birthday-related news, my team surprised me today. Heather and Pete (the two managers who report to me and with whom I went out last weekend) brought a donkey-shaped pinata to today's team meeting. I may have astonished the team with my level of aggression because, when confronted with the issue of having no stick with which to beat the pinata and no string with which to hoist it up, I used a pen to stab it open. Then, when I got back to my desk, I discovered that they had absolutely destroyed it with streamers and ribbons, so I couldn't sit down or dock my computer. And, they got me a lovely birthday card with a horse magnet (you can see they're as weird as I am, which is why we're working well together), so I was quite happy.
I really am like a small child when it comes to my birthday. So far, I have yet to hit a birthday with which I am not delighted -- I may not be thrilled that I'm 27, which is one step closer to death, but I am at least happy about the day itself. I suppose I should say that September 11, 2001, was not delightful -- but I was delighted about my birthday up until the moment when I saw the news coverage.
Anyway, I'm taking tomorrow and Friday off, and I made a list of what I want to accomplish this weekend. It's really quite a bit, but I love being overly ambitious. Topping the list are a) finish the second draft of the novel, b) get a pedicure and maybe a facial, c) reorganize my closet so that the other half of it is usable, and d) do the ten loads of laundry that have piled up. Most of this laundry is either towels/bedding that I don't have an incentive to do often because I have so much backup, or wintery/dressy clothes that remained packed up because I haven't had a need for them yet. But fall is around the corner, and I need to wash the stuff that has been sitting in suitcases and get a massive amount of dry cleaning done so that I can look like a promising young professional rather than a slovenly hag.
I'm obviously not going to be productive the whole weekend, though. Even though I want to spend a lot of time on the book, I also want to see friends, and so I organized a small birthday dinner for tomorrow night, which should be fun. I'm also debating checking out the Ming exhibit at the Asian Museum of Art. But in general, the book is the main focus -- twenty-seven isn't bad if it's the start of a career in writing, as opposed to yet another small step in the long slog toward corporate retirement.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
ask and ye shall receive
Work was fine today; if nothing else, I realized grimly that I'm slipping into the danger zone because I stayed until seven p.m. for the second night in a row. Given that I had to be there at 8:00am, it's not like staying until seven was necessary for my overall contribution for the week. This is not a huge deal, and I didn't work when I got home, but I still need to be careful not to slip into my nasty old habits.
However, on the bright side, it was quite the red-letter day in terms of acquisition of stuff! First and foremost, both my birthday card and my birthday present from my parents arrived two days early; greedy and impatient, I opened both of them, when I probably should have saved them for the actual day of. I was just so surprised to get them so early -- particularly the present, since I hadn't expressed any wishes to my mom until Saturday afternoon. But they got me a panini grill! Thanks Mom and Dad! (and please forgive me for opening early!) I'm v. excited about this; I eat a lot of sandwiches at home, and the only thing better than a sandwich is a hot sandwich. Granted, I need another kitchen appliance like I need another, but I'm quite happy about getting this.
In addition to the panini grill, I also got two more packages -- in fact, the security guard was so eager for me to come and relieve him of the packages that he must have been looking for me on the security cameras in the garage, because he shouted at me over the intercom at the second gate to come and get my stuff. One package was the 'Chicago Manual of Style', a must-have reference book for my ever-expanding writing library, since it covers a lot of the quirks of formatting/style that I need to get right with my manuscript. The other package was the 'Oxford Dictionary of English Christian Names' -- another book for the reference library. I got it used through an Amazon reseller, since it's out of print, but I'm quite happy with it -- the key thing about this, as opposed to most general baby name books, is that it's a) only names that were used in England at some point in the past, and b) discusses first appearances, decades/centuries of popularity, etc. This is key for making sure I don't name my characters something that wasn't even around during the Regency period -- or, if I give them a ridiculously uncommon name, explain why.
Finally, as I mentioned yesterday, I was despondent because my iPod gave up the ghost. Then, today, Steve Jobs announced brand-new iPod nanos, already on sale on the Apple website. Coincidence, or fate? I would have been so pissed if I had ordered one last night when I started looking at the site, since the ones released today have 16GB of memory for the same price as the 8GB models I was looking at yesterday. So I went ahead and ordered one; I've actually been enjoying my commute, but it's much, much better with the varied music made possible by an iPod rather than the ridiculous CDs I have in my car. If I get an iPod and a finished draft of my novel by the end of my birthday weekend, I will consider it to have been a smashing success.
Now after this extended discussion of my crass consumer ways (and, that reminds me, a quick chuckle about the fact that those annoying Berkeley tree protesters finally climbed out of their damn tree -- maybe they're concerned that the world will end tomorrow when the hadron collider in Switzerland is fired up, and they wanted to actually shower before that happens?), I think it's time for bed! I'm looking forward to taking four days to work on the book -- I just have to make it through tomorrow at work, which should be fine. I did a little bit of book-work tonight, in the form of running back through the narrative to make sure that I know exactly how many days the narrative covers so that I can go back and assign dates. I also finally decided on a year for the book: 1811 -- v. early Regency period, but advantage is that it sets up later books in the series for heightened drama -- 1812 was both when Napoleon was invading Russia and when the War of 1812 started, and I'm thinking that the second book in the series will involve a French plot and the third will involve some privateering in the Caribbean in relation to the British/American war, and then that still leaves plenty of Regency-era years (including the lead-up to Waterloo) for future yet-to-be-determined spin-offs if necessary. Yay. Now really, goodnight!
However, on the bright side, it was quite the red-letter day in terms of acquisition of stuff! First and foremost, both my birthday card and my birthday present from my parents arrived two days early; greedy and impatient, I opened both of them, when I probably should have saved them for the actual day of. I was just so surprised to get them so early -- particularly the present, since I hadn't expressed any wishes to my mom until Saturday afternoon. But they got me a panini grill! Thanks Mom and Dad! (and please forgive me for opening early!) I'm v. excited about this; I eat a lot of sandwiches at home, and the only thing better than a sandwich is a hot sandwich. Granted, I need another kitchen appliance like I need another
In addition to the panini grill, I also got two more packages -- in fact, the security guard was so eager for me to come and relieve him of the packages that he must have been looking for me on the security cameras in the garage, because he shouted at me over the intercom at the second gate to come and get my stuff. One package was the 'Chicago Manual of Style', a must-have reference book for my ever-expanding writing library, since it covers a lot of the quirks of formatting/style that I need to get right with my manuscript. The other package was the 'Oxford Dictionary of English Christian Names' -- another book for the reference library. I got it used through an Amazon reseller, since it's out of print, but I'm quite happy with it -- the key thing about this, as opposed to most general baby name books, is that it's a) only names that were used in England at some point in the past, and b) discusses first appearances, decades/centuries of popularity, etc. This is key for making sure I don't name my characters something that wasn't even around during the Regency period -- or, if I give them a ridiculously uncommon name, explain why.
Finally, as I mentioned yesterday, I was despondent because my iPod gave up the ghost. Then, today, Steve Jobs announced brand-new iPod nanos, already on sale on the Apple website. Coincidence, or fate? I would have been so pissed if I had ordered one last night when I started looking at the site, since the ones released today have 16GB of memory for the same price as the 8GB models I was looking at yesterday. So I went ahead and ordered one; I've actually been enjoying my commute, but it's much, much better with the varied music made possible by an iPod rather than the ridiculous CDs I have in my car. If I get an iPod and a finished draft of my novel by the end of my birthday weekend, I will consider it to have been a smashing success.
Now after this extended discussion of my crass consumer ways (and, that reminds me, a quick chuckle about the fact that those annoying Berkeley tree protesters finally climbed out of their damn tree -- maybe they're concerned that the world will end tomorrow when the hadron collider in Switzerland is fired up, and they wanted to actually shower before that happens?), I think it's time for bed! I'm looking forward to taking four days to work on the book -- I just have to make it through tomorrow at work, which should be fine. I did a little bit of book-work tonight, in the form of running back through the narrative to make sure that I know exactly how many days the narrative covers so that I can go back and assign dates. I also finally decided on a year for the book: 1811 -- v. early Regency period, but advantage is that it sets up later books in the series for heightened drama -- 1812 was both when Napoleon was invading Russia and when the War of 1812 started, and I'm thinking that the second book in the series will involve a French plot and the third will involve some privateering in the Caribbean in relation to the British/American war, and then that still leaves plenty of Regency-era years (including the lead-up to Waterloo) for future yet-to-be-determined spin-offs if necessary. Yay. Now really, goodnight!
Monday, September 08, 2008
your feet make tiny imprints in the snow
I meant to work on the novel tonight, but I ended up staying at work "late" -- I left around seven, which is the latest that I've stayed since coming back from leave, but early compared to when I used to stop working. But by the time I made it back to San Francisco, made dinner, and procrastinated, I was starting to get tired -- and since the remaining work to do with my novel is either writing new scenes or rewriting tricky scenes, I'm not really in the mood right now, so I'm going to sleep early.
Today was pretty great, though. The meetings that I had were generally fine, and I like the team I work with, so all of that was good. I had lunch with Jay, one of my favorite people at work because of his infectious lust for life; I don't see him very often, but it was awesome to catch up. In a surreal moment, we were joined within thirty seconds by two people I haven't seen in two years, as well as my friend Kim who was on leave for the past couple of months; they didn't stick around, but it was a very strange moment. Terry and I spent a few quality minutes in my office discussing life and work, and then I got some stuff done that needed to be taken care of.
The highlights of the day were talking to Chandlord on the phone right before I left the office, and IM'ing with Salim (who informed me that Dear Respected Madam - aka Heather - hates me because I haven't emailed her in a month). The only real lowlight came when I discovered that my ipod may have spontaneously died; it worked this morning on the way to work, and now it won't wake up or charge or play or anything. Boooooo. So now I'm going to go to bed and mourn my ipod; hopefully tomorrow I'll get around to working on the book!
Today was pretty great, though. The meetings that I had were generally fine, and I like the team I work with, so all of that was good. I had lunch with Jay, one of my favorite people at work because of his infectious lust for life; I don't see him very often, but it was awesome to catch up. In a surreal moment, we were joined within thirty seconds by two people I haven't seen in two years, as well as my friend Kim who was on leave for the past couple of months; they didn't stick around, but it was a very strange moment. Terry and I spent a few quality minutes in my office discussing life and work, and then I got some stuff done that needed to be taken care of.
The highlights of the day were talking to Chandlord on the phone right before I left the office, and IM'ing with Salim (who informed me that Dear Respected Madam - aka Heather - hates me because I haven't emailed her in a month). The only real lowlight came when I discovered that my ipod may have spontaneously died; it worked this morning on the way to work, and now it won't wake up or charge or play or anything. Boooooo. So now I'm going to go to bed and mourn my ipod; hopefully tomorrow I'll get around to working on the book!
Sunday, September 07, 2008
doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city
I am slightly miffed, partially bemused, and generally surprised at how much I like living in the city. I have railed against this place to anyone who would listen -- and now I am living in one of the most 'city' parts of the entire city, and I'm happier than I have been in California in several years.
However, I think the verdict is still out on whether it is the city that is making me happy, or my amazing sense of focus on my writing in combination with the nice balance that I've found with my real job. After all, I barely went out this weekend; after my cosmopolitan-fueled Friday night, I spent yesterday and today mostly holed up in my apartment, with a break both days to go to the tea shop a couple of blocks away. But, the city does at least allow for more impromptu socializing -- both my Friday night misbehavior and the time I spent with Katrina this afternoon would not have happened on the peninsula.
I've made some great progress on the book over the past couple of weeks. Today I finally reached the end of my comprehensive editing -- I had been going through the book line by line to change both small things like word choice and large things like points of view in entire scenes, and I hit the end this afternoon. I then went back and made a list of what I need to do next -- specifically, I want to rewrite the beginning to make it tighter and get my hero and heroine together sooner, and there are a couple of scenes in the middle of the book that I haven't written yet. But overall, I'm getting very close to having something that I feel comfortable sharing, and I think my four-day birthday weekend will help me to make that final push.
I spent some quality time talking to my Uncle Mark, who called to ask a question about India, as well as my parents, who did not call because they expect me to call them on Sundays. I missed my dad last weekend during my usual call and the bastard never called me back, so today was our first conversation in two weeks, which was nice. It also got him out of cleaning the garage, so hopefully he was appropriately grateful.
Then, as mentioned above, I met Katrina at the tea place near my apartment, where we spent an hour and a half partially working. Since I was in no mood to start writing new scenes, this actually worked out very well; I spent the time reformatting my manuscript to fit actual publishing guidelines rather than my previously-lazy formatting, so it now looks like something I could send someplace as soon as it's complete. We continued our conversation over sushi, and managed to spend v. little time talking about work (even though we work at the same place -- but we met through external sources and aren't in the same department, which helps a lot). Instead, Katrina asked me questions about the romance novel, which was entertaining -- it's always fun to explain romance novels to someone who hasn't read them before, and I'm looking forward (with a mixture of amusement and dread) to the moment when I can share my published book with non-romance-reading friends. I shall stoically take whatever they throw at me, particularly since I am aware that a significant subset will either a) not read it at all, or b) skim for the sex scenes. Regardless, I shall persevere.
I suppose I should think about bed, since I have to be at work early tomorrow. I may stay up a bit longer, but I wanted to make sure that I blogged tonight -- I was a paragraph into a blog post last night when I fell asleep with the laptop in my lap, and when I woke up an hour later, I trashed the post and went to bed instead. Since you, gentle reader, no doubt look forward to briefly skimming these posts for mentions of yourself before moving on to another site, I couldn't do you the disservice of missing two nights in a row. Goodnight!
However, I think the verdict is still out on whether it is the city that is making me happy, or my amazing sense of focus on my writing in combination with the nice balance that I've found with my real job. After all, I barely went out this weekend; after my cosmopolitan-fueled Friday night, I spent yesterday and today mostly holed up in my apartment, with a break both days to go to the tea shop a couple of blocks away. But, the city does at least allow for more impromptu socializing -- both my Friday night misbehavior and the time I spent with Katrina this afternoon would not have happened on the peninsula.
I've made some great progress on the book over the past couple of weeks. Today I finally reached the end of my comprehensive editing -- I had been going through the book line by line to change both small things like word choice and large things like points of view in entire scenes, and I hit the end this afternoon. I then went back and made a list of what I need to do next -- specifically, I want to rewrite the beginning to make it tighter and get my hero and heroine together sooner, and there are a couple of scenes in the middle of the book that I haven't written yet. But overall, I'm getting very close to having something that I feel comfortable sharing, and I think my four-day birthday weekend will help me to make that final push.
I spent some quality time talking to my Uncle Mark, who called to ask a question about India, as well as my parents, who did not call because they expect me to call them on Sundays. I missed my dad last weekend during my usual call and the bastard never called me back, so today was our first conversation in two weeks, which was nice. It also got him out of cleaning the garage, so hopefully he was appropriately grateful.
Then, as mentioned above, I met Katrina at the tea place near my apartment, where we spent an hour and a half partially working. Since I was in no mood to start writing new scenes, this actually worked out very well; I spent the time reformatting my manuscript to fit actual publishing guidelines rather than my previously-lazy formatting, so it now looks like something I could send someplace as soon as it's complete. We continued our conversation over sushi, and managed to spend v. little time talking about work (even though we work at the same place -- but we met through external sources and aren't in the same department, which helps a lot). Instead, Katrina asked me questions about the romance novel, which was entertaining -- it's always fun to explain romance novels to someone who hasn't read them before, and I'm looking forward (with a mixture of amusement and dread) to the moment when I can share my published book with non-romance-reading friends. I shall stoically take whatever they throw at me, particularly since I am aware that a significant subset will either a) not read it at all, or b) skim for the sex scenes. Regardless, I shall persevere.
I suppose I should think about bed, since I have to be at work early tomorrow. I may stay up a bit longer, but I wanted to make sure that I blogged tonight -- I was a paragraph into a blog post last night when I fell asleep with the laptop in my lap, and when I woke up an hour later, I trashed the post and went to bed instead. Since you, gentle reader, no doubt look forward to briefly skimming these posts for mentions of yourself before moving on to another site, I couldn't do you the disservice of missing two nights in a row. Goodnight!
Saturday, September 06, 2008
little compact asian girl
I really meant to be good tonight. I came home early, made dinner, changed into pajamas, took a nap, and then started rereading key classic scenes from favorite romance novels in an effort to discern what works and what doesn't work from a point-of-view standpoint.
Then my willpower failed me. Both Heather and Pete (who are the managers on my team who report to me) texted/called me to get me to come out to the bar that they were at, and I ended up relenting. I then made the further mistake of ordering a cosmopolitan -- and anyone who knows me knows that cosmopolitans are my downfall. It's amazing I can still drink the damn things, given that anytime I have one of them, I inevitably have at least five. Anyway, we were at the bar in support of Heather's boyfriend Mike, who is the drummer for a recently-launched amateur band.
The craziest of crazy moments happened when I realized that the lead singer of the band was none other than Guru, whom I've crossed paths with many times at Stanford. He was John's resident my sophomore year, which means he was the same year/dorm as Walter, Felicia, etc., and I saw him many, many times over the course of his time at Stanford. He also starred in one of Adit's video productions as one of the profiled 'Underground Indians'. So to walk into a bar that I had no intention of going to, and find that I was cheering for Guru as a lead singer of a rock band was v. surreal to say the least.
But the show was entertaining, and I got to meet Pete's recently-affianced girlfriend, which was v. nice. After the show, we progressed to a karaoke bar, which was v. entertaining. Pete and Bridgette (the fiancee) went home after that, but Heather, Mike (the boyfriend), Guru, Guru's girlfriend, and I went to a diner and had hangover-mitigating greasy food. I tried to use the restroom there, but someone was locked in the bathroom, presumably passed out; the staff tried to use my credit card to open the door, but I ended up waiting until I got home a few minutes ago, so hopefully the girl isn't dead in there.
Now I should really go to bed and hope I don't suffer too many ill effects from my cosmopolitans; the novel awaits this weekend, and I need to make some progress on it, so goodnight!
Then my willpower failed me. Both Heather and Pete (who are the managers on my team who report to me) texted/called me to get me to come out to the bar that they were at, and I ended up relenting. I then made the further mistake of ordering a cosmopolitan -- and anyone who knows me knows that cosmopolitans are my downfall. It's amazing I can still drink the damn things, given that anytime I have one of them, I inevitably have at least five. Anyway, we were at the bar in support of Heather's boyfriend Mike, who is the drummer for a recently-launched amateur band.
The craziest of crazy moments happened when I realized that the lead singer of the band was none other than Guru, whom I've crossed paths with many times at Stanford. He was John's resident my sophomore year, which means he was the same year/dorm as Walter, Felicia, etc., and I saw him many, many times over the course of his time at Stanford. He also starred in one of Adit's video productions as one of the profiled 'Underground Indians'. So to walk into a bar that I had no intention of going to, and find that I was cheering for Guru as a lead singer of a rock band was v. surreal to say the least.
But the show was entertaining, and I got to meet Pete's recently-affianced girlfriend, which was v. nice. After the show, we progressed to a karaoke bar, which was v. entertaining. Pete and Bridgette (the fiancee) went home after that, but Heather, Mike (the boyfriend), Guru, Guru's girlfriend, and I went to a diner and had hangover-mitigating greasy food. I tried to use the restroom there, but someone was locked in the bathroom, presumably passed out; the staff tried to use my credit card to open the door, but I ended up waiting until I got home a few minutes ago, so hopefully the girl isn't dead in there.
Now I should really go to bed and hope I don't suffer too many ill effects from my cosmopolitans; the novel awaits this weekend, and I need to make some progress on it, so goodnight!
Thursday, September 04, 2008
i'm a lead farmer
I'm so happy - I finally conned someone into seeing a movie with me! In this case, the victims were Adit and Oniel, and the weapon was 'Tropic Thunder', the latest offering from Ben Stiller and company. Like many of Ben Stiller's recent movies, it was somewhat inconsistent, but there were a few absolutely hysterical parts. I also thought that Robert Downey, Jr., did a great job with his part; in general, the satire on actors was pretty good. Tom Cruise's role maybe wasn't such a wise move on his part, since everyone seems to think that he's crazy, and his role in this movie is probably a little too close to what people imagine he's actually like in private, but it was still entertaining in a sort of horrifying, can't-look-away kind of way.
It was lovely to see the boys as well. We had some delicious crepes before the movie, and then Adit took care of me -- but where my mother would probably hope that he was looking out for me by walking me home or something, he actually looked out for me by bringing a flask of rum and dumping almost the entire thing in our coke at the movie theatre. Yay. It actually didn't affect me much at all, which was v. surprising; maybe the sheer giddiness of actually convincing someone to see a movie with me, after the string of dismal failures I've subjected them to over the years, was enough to keep me sober.
The rest of my day was fairly uneventful; I worked, of course, and also had my second set of allergy shots for the week. Because of the reaction I had on Tuesday, the tech split one of my shots, which means I got three shots today -- two in the left arm, one in the right. Turns out it's the stuff in the shot that went into the right arm that I'm reacting to -- the grasses. This is not very surprising, given that my skins burns and swells up if I spend too long lying in the grass, let alone having concentrated grass allergens injected in my arm. This doesn't bode well, though, since I reacted to the third-least-intense dose, and I have 20-30 to go before I'm anywhere close to being done. Boo.
I'm looking forward to the weekend -- it looks like the weather is going to be gorgeous up here. I intend to spend most of the weekend working on the book, but maybe I'll try to get outside for some of it. Right now, though, I should go to bed, since I have to be at work by 8:30 tomorrow and would ideally get there sooner than that so that I can get out of there tomorrow afternoon. Goodnight!
It was lovely to see the boys as well. We had some delicious crepes before the movie, and then Adit took care of me -- but where my mother would probably hope that he was looking out for me by walking me home or something, he actually looked out for me by bringing a flask of rum and dumping almost the entire thing in our coke at the movie theatre. Yay. It actually didn't affect me much at all, which was v. surprising; maybe the sheer giddiness of actually convincing someone to see a movie with me, after the string of dismal failures I've subjected them to over the years, was enough to keep me sober.
The rest of my day was fairly uneventful; I worked, of course, and also had my second set of allergy shots for the week. Because of the reaction I had on Tuesday, the tech split one of my shots, which means I got three shots today -- two in the left arm, one in the right. Turns out it's the stuff in the shot that went into the right arm that I'm reacting to -- the grasses. This is not very surprising, given that my skins burns and swells up if I spend too long lying in the grass, let alone having concentrated grass allergens injected in my arm. This doesn't bode well, though, since I reacted to the third-least-intense dose, and I have 20-30 to go before I'm anywhere close to being done. Boo.
I'm looking forward to the weekend -- it looks like the weather is going to be gorgeous up here. I intend to spend most of the weekend working on the book, but maybe I'll try to get outside for some of it. Right now, though, I should go to bed, since I have to be at work by 8:30 tomorrow and would ideally get there sooner than that so that I can get out of there tomorrow afternoon. Goodnight!
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
knock me out every time they touch me
Please allow me to take a moment to be a corporate shill. I downloaded the new Google Chrome browser to my personal laptop tonight, and so far I quite like it. The best feature, in my opinion, is having thumbnails of your most frequently visited sites whenever you open a new tab -- if your most frequently visited sites are pornographic, this might not be an improvement that you are comfortable putting on a publicly-accessible computer, but I do not have any such issues. Also, I've been having weird issues with Firefox 3, and am hopeful that Chrome will not have similar issues. So I suggest trying it out, if you are at all interested; mama needs a new pair of shoes, so any support you can give me via downloading free products is much appreciated.
Today was a great day. I realized, as I may have mentioned before, that I've achieved the focus at work that is normally only achieved by people attempting to balance strong passions for both career and family -- just like the people who come back after having a baby and seem to get the same amount done in a more condensed period of time due to their desire to get back home to Junior, I find that my book is effectively my baby. For instance, this afternoon I had to edit some slides that needed to go out before seven or eight p.m. By the time I got back to my desk to work on it, it was almost 5pm, and I needed to be out the door by 5:20 to run an errand in Palo Alto. In my past life, I would have procrastinated for twenty minutes and then done the slides at home; instead, I spent a concerted twenty minutes knocking them out, accepted less than perfection (but not much less -- yes, I am conceited), and moved on with my life. Granted, I didn't actually work on my book tonight, but I did take care of some random minutiae that has been piling up, so all's good.
So anyway, work was good, and then I ran my errand (which was to buy more felt-tipped pens) before meeting up with Terry for dinner. Since I had seen her over the weekend, there weren't a lot of surprises in the catching-up department, but I'm glad I drove today so that I was available for an impromptu dinner. Then I came home and took care of some very boring paperwork, and now it's time for bed. My goal for tomorrow is to get back to working on the book -- since I want to have a second draft done by September 14, which is a little more than a week away, I really need to keep making progress!
i am the warrior
Today was comprised of a variety of unfortunate events, interspersed with some great things, which made it truly a mixed bag. I woke up on time, felt good on the way to the shuttle -- then got overconfident about my stomach and started checking my email before we got out of the city. This made me so violently carsick that I thought I was going to throw up, and the nausea plagued me for several hours after that. I also got my allergy shots today -- now they're doing one in each arm (dust on the left, pollens and grasses on the right). For the first few sessions, I didn't really react at all, but this time my right arm has swelled up and there's a hard, hot lump about 2.5 inches across around the injection site. Bleh.
However, as mentioned, the rest of the day was just fine. I was productive at work, and also took a minute to wait for a custom-made sandwich at my favorite cafe. It was a truly excellent sandwich, although I surprised even myself by ordering it without meat -- but with havarti and pepperjack cheese, roasted peppers, onions, mushrooms, avocados, tomatoes, and sprouts, all run through a baking oven so that everything melted together, I didn't feel that I was missing out. I ran a couple of errands on the way home from the bus stop before coming home and eating a frozen pizza (but since it was purchased at Whole Foods, it of course is organic, and it was quite a different experience from Tony's or Red Baron).
Finally, I was going to work on my book, but I needed a night off after the intense focus on it this weekend. So I decided to watch one of my recent Netflix arrivals -- 'Gosford Park'. It's crazy that I haven't seen it before; period dramas, Clive Owen, and Ryan Phillippe are all right up my alley, and the movie won some pretty widespread acclaim when it was released a few years ago. I adored it -- as you might be able to tell by the fact that I just watched 'Pride and Prejudice' as well, I'm looking for visual inspiration for romance novels, and feel that I can learn some stuff about storytelling from movies in a way that won't make me feel incredibly inferior like I do if I read something that is particularly well-written. So if you have any ideas for classic romances/period dramas/comedies that I should watch, let me know!
However, as mentioned, the rest of the day was just fine. I was productive at work, and also took a minute to wait for a custom-made sandwich at my favorite cafe. It was a truly excellent sandwich, although I surprised even myself by ordering it without meat -- but with havarti and pepperjack cheese, roasted peppers, onions, mushrooms, avocados, tomatoes, and sprouts, all run through a baking oven so that everything melted together, I didn't feel that I was missing out. I ran a couple of errands on the way home from the bus stop before coming home and eating a frozen pizza (but since it was purchased at Whole Foods, it of course is organic, and it was quite a different experience from Tony's or Red Baron).
Finally, I was going to work on my book, but I needed a night off after the intense focus on it this weekend. So I decided to watch one of my recent Netflix arrivals -- 'Gosford Park'. It's crazy that I haven't seen it before; period dramas, Clive Owen, and Ryan Phillippe are all right up my alley, and the movie won some pretty widespread acclaim when it was released a few years ago. I adored it -- as you might be able to tell by the fact that I just watched 'Pride and Prejudice' as well, I'm looking for visual inspiration for romance novels, and feel that I can learn some stuff about storytelling from movies in a way that won't make me feel incredibly inferior like I do if I read something that is particularly well-written. So if you have any ideas for classic romances/period dramas/comedies that I should watch, let me know!
Monday, September 01, 2008
serenity
The ambient/trance song playing on my Pandora right now is 'Serenity'. This is ironic because I just read a comment that someone left on a blog post that I wrote during the Olympics -- and they seem to be even more obsessed/crazy than I am. You can read it here, but basically the chick is all mad at me because I contended that NBC should have stopped focusing so much of their prime-time coverage (via constant replays of every single one of Phelps' finals) on Michael Phelps after he was done with his quest for gold. Whatevs. I loved watching him swim, and yes, I watched him in Athens as well, and I'm of course looking forward to seeing what he does in London in 2012, but what I took umbrage at was *not* the fact that they focused on him during the swimming events, but that NBC continued to play his events days after they were over, when there were other sports that didn't get covered at all. To be criticized for my lack of dedication/obsession with the Olympics is something that, if you know me, took me completely by surprise.
Anyway, today was an absolutely lovely day in the city of sin. I made quesadillas for breakfast -- these are a holdover from my happy memories of endless weekend brunches in college, when I usually ate quesadillas while sitting in the dining room for several hours and chatting with everyone who cycled through. While there was no one here to keep me company, I must say that the quesadillas themselves were much better. Then I did the dishes, took a shower, and eventually made it out the door, down the block, and into my surly neighborhood Starbucks.
I worked on the book for a couple of hours, editing two more chapters while sipping an iced latte and people-watching -- my neighborhood may be strange, but that makes for some excellent people-watching, particularly if you like hipsters and toothless meth addicts. Then I came home and talked to my mom for awhile before venturing out again to pick up groceries. Whole Foods was expensive, as usual, but I'm excited about my purchases -- particularly the peaches, since I rediscovered them last week, as well as some applesauce, frozen enchiladas, and ingredients for more quesadillas. When I got home, I made myself a sandwich (with sprouts! I'm so Californian) and relaxed a little bit before working on the book until now.
My project for the past couple of hours was to go through the ~200 pages that I've currently polished for the second draft and start to write a synopsis of them -- not a polished, submittable synopsis, but rather a thorough outline showing key points, characters, settings, points of view, and page numbers for each chapter. I'm trying to make sure that the point of view (hereafter referred to as POV) switches make sense and aren't too frequent. Common wisdom says that each scene should stick with a single POV -- for instance, the opening scene between Amelia and her friend Madeleine should be entirely in Amelia's point of view, while the next scene could switch to someone else as long as it stays there for the duration of the scene. And for the most part, I've stuck to that and believe it makes sense. Where I'm struggling, though, is with the critical moments in the story -- like when Malcolm and Amelia first meet, or when they're exchanging their vows, or when they're "getting physical" (although clearly not while listening to Olivia Newton-John, since she came about 170 years too late). In those moments, when their feelings are evolving rapidly, it feels right to switch between their POVs in the same scene, so I'm playing around with it to see what I feel comfortable with. I need to go back and read some of my favorite first-meeting or first-sexy-times scenes to see how other authors have handled this, but that's a project for another night.
Unfortunately I suppose I should go to bed; tomorrow is a work day, which means I have to set the novel aside for the whole day and focus on other people's business. That's actually kind of nice -- as I said before, my job gives me a break from the book and my book gives me a break from the job, and so far it's all balancing quite well. Whether that continues as my job picks up or as the days get shorter remains to be seen, but for now, I'm quite satisfied.
Anyway, today was an absolutely lovely day in the city of sin. I made quesadillas for breakfast -- these are a holdover from my happy memories of endless weekend brunches in college, when I usually ate quesadillas while sitting in the dining room for several hours and chatting with everyone who cycled through. While there was no one here to keep me company, I must say that the quesadillas themselves were much better. Then I did the dishes, took a shower, and eventually made it out the door, down the block, and into my surly neighborhood Starbucks.
I worked on the book for a couple of hours, editing two more chapters while sipping an iced latte and people-watching -- my neighborhood may be strange, but that makes for some excellent people-watching, particularly if you like hipsters and toothless meth addicts. Then I came home and talked to my mom for awhile before venturing out again to pick up groceries. Whole Foods was expensive, as usual, but I'm excited about my purchases -- particularly the peaches, since I rediscovered them last week, as well as some applesauce, frozen enchiladas, and ingredients for more quesadillas. When I got home, I made myself a sandwich (with sprouts! I'm so Californian) and relaxed a little bit before working on the book until now.
My project for the past couple of hours was to go through the ~200 pages that I've currently polished for the second draft and start to write a synopsis of them -- not a polished, submittable synopsis, but rather a thorough outline showing key points, characters, settings, points of view, and page numbers for each chapter. I'm trying to make sure that the point of view (hereafter referred to as POV) switches make sense and aren't too frequent. Common wisdom says that each scene should stick with a single POV -- for instance, the opening scene between Amelia and her friend Madeleine should be entirely in Amelia's point of view, while the next scene could switch to someone else as long as it stays there for the duration of the scene. And for the most part, I've stuck to that and believe it makes sense. Where I'm struggling, though, is with the critical moments in the story -- like when Malcolm and Amelia first meet, or when they're exchanging their vows, or when they're "getting physical" (although clearly not while listening to Olivia Newton-John, since she came about 170 years too late). In those moments, when their feelings are evolving rapidly, it feels right to switch between their POVs in the same scene, so I'm playing around with it to see what I feel comfortable with. I need to go back and read some of my favorite first-meeting or first-sexy-times scenes to see how other authors have handled this, but that's a project for another night.
Unfortunately I suppose I should go to bed; tomorrow is a work day, which means I have to set the novel aside for the whole day and focus on other people's business. That's actually kind of nice -- as I said before, my job gives me a break from the book and my book gives me a break from the job, and so far it's all balancing quite well. Whether that continues as my job picks up or as the days get shorter remains to be seen, but for now, I'm quite satisfied.
nice shot!
Adit and I just played several rounds of Wii Golf. It's almost like the announcer was programmed especially for me; whenever he said 'nice shot!' about Adit's game, the shot was actually nice, but when the announcer said 'nice shot!' for me, it usually meant that my ball had gone into a bunker or over a cliff into the ocean. Bastard.
Today was excellent and v., v. productive. Terry and I woke up early and attempted to have brunch at Dottie's True Blue Cafe, in the heart of the Tenderloin, but despite its sketchy location, it always has lines out the door, and the line at 9:15am looked to be at least an hour long. Ridiculous. So we did exactly what Vidya and I did when she tried to take me to Dottie's -- we turned around, walked back toward my apartment, and had breakfast at Moulin Rouge instead. It's this cute little diner run by an elderly Asian couple and their son, decorated in a weird, grungy pseudo-french style, with excellent greasy hash browns and great eggs. Adit told me that when I described the 'family' and the 'reasonably priced food' and the 'atmosphere', I sounded just like every other San Franciscan, which is horrifyingly true. Give me two more months, and I'll be a poster child for stuffwhitepeoplelike.com. Ugh.
Terry went home after breakfast, and I decided to venture out in search of a cafe where I could spend the afternoon working on my book. I found the Leland Tea Company a couple of blocks from my apartment, and am thrilled thrilled thrilled -- they have just as wide a variety of teas as Tea Time in Palo Alto or Samovar in SF, but the service is better than Tea Time and the teas and foods are cheaper than Samovar. And, it's a five-minute walk from my place, which is perfect.
I started out with a pot of the Russian Country tea -- smoky, of course, just the way Russian blends are supposed to be. I had been there for about an hour when Adit called; he was in search of a working partner, and he ended up meeting me at the tea place. We sat there for another few hours, doing quite a bit of work and sharing a pot of Irish Breakfast tea. I didn't have as much tea as I could have had, but what I did have made my hands a little twitchy, so I decided to take it easy.
We came back to my place around six and split a container of frozen enchiladas while playing Wii Sports. Then we worked for a little over four hours while watching the US Open match between Djokovic and Cilic (Djokovic reminds me a lot of our Ukrainian friend Vova), followed by an episode of 'Law and Order:SVU'. Then we played more Wii golf before Adit finally decided to call it a night.
I'm glad that Adit and I hung out; I would have likely thrown in the towel much earlier if I hadn't had him around, and so I was v. productive w/the book today as a result. I edited 38 pages, but of that, nine of them were for completely new scenes, which meant that I wrote 2250 words plus the various words that I plucked out and rewrote in the other sections. All in all, a good day's work -- a few more days like this, and I'll feel ready to share it with some trusted feedback providers.
Now, though, I'm exhausted -- time for bed!
Today was excellent and v., v. productive. Terry and I woke up early and attempted to have brunch at Dottie's True Blue Cafe, in the heart of the Tenderloin, but despite its sketchy location, it always has lines out the door, and the line at 9:15am looked to be at least an hour long. Ridiculous. So we did exactly what Vidya and I did when she tried to take me to Dottie's -- we turned around, walked back toward my apartment, and had breakfast at Moulin Rouge instead. It's this cute little diner run by an elderly Asian couple and their son, decorated in a weird, grungy pseudo-french style, with excellent greasy hash browns and great eggs. Adit told me that when I described the 'family' and the 'reasonably priced food' and the 'atmosphere', I sounded just like every other San Franciscan, which is horrifyingly true. Give me two more months, and I'll be a poster child for stuffwhitepeoplelike.com. Ugh.
Terry went home after breakfast, and I decided to venture out in search of a cafe where I could spend the afternoon working on my book. I found the Leland Tea Company a couple of blocks from my apartment, and am thrilled thrilled thrilled -- they have just as wide a variety of teas as Tea Time in Palo Alto or Samovar in SF, but the service is better than Tea Time and the teas and foods are cheaper than Samovar. And, it's a five-minute walk from my place, which is perfect.
I started out with a pot of the Russian Country tea -- smoky, of course, just the way Russian blends are supposed to be. I had been there for about an hour when Adit called; he was in search of a working partner, and he ended up meeting me at the tea place. We sat there for another few hours, doing quite a bit of work and sharing a pot of Irish Breakfast tea. I didn't have as much tea as I could have had, but what I did have made my hands a little twitchy, so I decided to take it easy.
We came back to my place around six and split a container of frozen enchiladas while playing Wii Sports. Then we worked for a little over four hours while watching the US Open match between Djokovic and Cilic (Djokovic reminds me a lot of our Ukrainian friend Vova), followed by an episode of 'Law and Order:SVU'. Then we played more Wii golf before Adit finally decided to call it a night.
I'm glad that Adit and I hung out; I would have likely thrown in the towel much earlier if I hadn't had him around, and so I was v. productive w/the book today as a result. I edited 38 pages, but of that, nine of them were for completely new scenes, which meant that I wrote 2250 words plus the various words that I plucked out and rewrote in the other sections. All in all, a good day's work -- a few more days like this, and I'll feel ready to share it with some trusted feedback providers.
Now, though, I'm exhausted -- time for bed!
Sunday, August 31, 2008
i dislike the bennets
I just finished watching 'Pride and Prejudice' with Terry -- the version with Keira Knightley, not the BBC one with Colin Firth -- and I am reminded how much I despise most of Elizabeth Bennet's family. I probably ruined it for poor Terry because I kept either snorting or shouting 'I hate you!' every time one of Elizabeth's family members said something annoying. But, because I despised them so much, and simultaneously loved Elizabeth and the guy playing Mr. Darcy, I really enjoyed the movie. Keira Knightley does an excellent job of sounding both pert and offended, which are two key characters traits for Elizabeth Bennet, and the Mr. Darcy guy excelled at both arrogance and suffering. Sigh!
Today was great; I spent the morning cleaning up around the apartment and catching up on news, and then Terry came up in the afternoon. We walked down to Yerba Buena Gardens with the intention of working (her on applications, me on the book), but I took her to Samovar, and it turned out to be unconducive to laptop use. I had the endless Russian Samovar service, which (as loyal/observant readers will remember) requires the patron to get up and serve their own damned tea from a samovar in the corner. But I like that tea, and I also like their scones, even if their clotted cream is not quite as good as what I ate in England. Yes, I am a snob. So Terry and I chatted over tea, then came back up to my neighborhood, where we worked at a Starbucks for an hour or two. I edited one of my favorite scenes in my romance novel, and then we went out for pizza before coming back here to watch the movie.
I fully intend to spend the rest of the weekend holed up with the book. I only have twelve days until I turn 27, and I want to have a finished draft by then. Also, Terry and I both had a bleak moment when one of the characters (Charlotte) told Elizabeth that she had decided to marry the odious Mr. Collins because *she* was 27 and was unlikely to ever get an offer. Sad! Luckily I live in the 21st century and am not necessarily destined to be a spinster at 27, but the odds ain't good. Ironic that I write romance when I feel like that, but c'est la vie. Goodnight!
Today was great; I spent the morning cleaning up around the apartment and catching up on news, and then Terry came up in the afternoon. We walked down to Yerba Buena Gardens with the intention of working (her on applications, me on the book), but I took her to Samovar, and it turned out to be unconducive to laptop use. I had the endless Russian Samovar service, which (as loyal/observant readers will remember) requires the patron to get up and serve their own damned tea from a samovar in the corner. But I like that tea, and I also like their scones, even if their clotted cream is not quite as good as what I ate in England. Yes, I am a snob. So Terry and I chatted over tea, then came back up to my neighborhood, where we worked at a Starbucks for an hour or two. I edited one of my favorite scenes in my romance novel, and then we went out for pizza before coming back here to watch the movie.
I fully intend to spend the rest of the weekend holed up with the book. I only have twelve days until I turn 27, and I want to have a finished draft by then. Also, Terry and I both had a bleak moment when one of the characters (Charlotte) told Elizabeth that she had decided to marry the odious Mr. Collins because *she* was 27 and was unlikely to ever get an offer. Sad! Luckily I live in the 21st century and am not necessarily destined to be a spinster at 27, but the odds ain't good. Ironic that I write romance when I feel like that, but c'est la vie. Goodnight!
Friday, August 29, 2008
a variety of headaches
The main headache on my mind today was the most literal of all of them -- I awoke with a pounding headache, the likes of which I haven't experienced since before I left work last winter, the kind that makes me want to curl up under the pillow and stay there all day...and even the memory is giving me a headache now. I don't get migraines, but I do get bad headaches, and if there weren't a couple of meetings that I felt compelled to go to because of my role as sober, responsible manager, I would have called in sick.
Instead, I went to work, where, as anticipated, the same meetings that I felt compelled to go to were each headaches in their own right. I love the people that I work with, but when I have a bad headache, my patience is v. thin, and my tongue sharpens in direct correlation to the thinning of my tolerance. As anyone whom I have loved knows, I am not always the nicest person in the room; I believe that usually I make up for it with moments of generosity and a series of jhokes, but that may not actually be true. Or rather, maybe the jhokes don't make up for the occasional moments when I say the bluntest, sharpest, most sarcastic things in a conscious or unconscious effort to draw blood. I've grown up some, and am generally better able to rein myself in than I used to be, but I will likely always have my moments.
So today I mostly held myself in, but I left early to nurse my head. I almost fell asleep on the drive back to the city, which was scary; I don't know why I was sleepy, since I slept almost nine hours last night, but getting back up here was difficult. Then, when I got home, I knew I shouldn't take a nap because it would throw off tonight's slumber. So, I picked up 'Twilight', the book I started reading last night.
I promptly finished it...then picked up the second in the series, 'New Moon', and read it through in one go. I didn't even stop for dinner, which likely didn't help the headache; while it's not as bad as it was this morning, six hours of reading without food or drink probably wasn't smart. I just had a bowl of cereal, which will tide me over until morning, but I'll have to be smarter tomorrow.
The last metaphorical headache is that the writing in these books is so great -- the descriptions are just so lush and perfect that it makes me despair of and for my own writing. I've been avoiding reading historical romances because I get all paranoid and start making unfair comparisons in my mind; but apparently reading anything good acts as an agent of fear rather than inspiration. I need to get over this -- two nights ago, I was thrilled with what I have, and just because my style is different than this author's does not make it worse. I will continue to remind myself of that, but right now I think I'll go to bed, and hope that tomorrow isn't nearly as much of a strain on my nerves.
Instead, I went to work, where, as anticipated, the same meetings that I felt compelled to go to were each headaches in their own right. I love the people that I work with, but when I have a bad headache, my patience is v. thin, and my tongue sharpens in direct correlation to the thinning of my tolerance. As anyone whom I have loved knows, I am not always the nicest person in the room; I believe that usually I make up for it with moments of generosity and a series of jhokes, but that may not actually be true. Or rather, maybe the jhokes don't make up for the occasional moments when I say the bluntest, sharpest, most sarcastic things in a conscious or unconscious effort to draw blood. I've grown up some, and am generally better able to rein myself in than I used to be, but I will likely always have my moments.
So today I mostly held myself in, but I left early to nurse my head. I almost fell asleep on the drive back to the city, which was scary; I don't know why I was sleepy, since I slept almost nine hours last night, but getting back up here was difficult. Then, when I got home, I knew I shouldn't take a nap because it would throw off tonight's slumber. So, I picked up 'Twilight', the book I started reading last night.
I promptly finished it...then picked up the second in the series, 'New Moon', and read it through in one go. I didn't even stop for dinner, which likely didn't help the headache; while it's not as bad as it was this morning, six hours of reading without food or drink probably wasn't smart. I just had a bowl of cereal, which will tide me over until morning, but I'll have to be smarter tomorrow.
The last metaphorical headache is that the writing in these books is so great -- the descriptions are just so lush and perfect that it makes me despair of and for my own writing. I've been avoiding reading historical romances because I get all paranoid and start making unfair comparisons in my mind; but apparently reading anything good acts as an agent of fear rather than inspiration. I need to get over this -- two nights ago, I was thrilled with what I have, and just because my style is different than this author's does not make it worse. I will continue to remind myself of that, but right now I think I'll go to bed, and hope that tomorrow isn't nearly as much of a strain on my nerves.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
warn your wolves to turn away
Today was a v. odd day. I attribute it all to waking up at 5:40a.m. At that point, it was still dark outside; by the time I left my apartment a little before 6:15am, dawn was streaking across the city skyline, which was quite impressive. It hasn't been foggy at all the past few mornings/evenings, which is a shocking (and welcome) change. I caught the 6:30 shuttle, which put me in the office by 7:30, well before my eight a.m. meeting. I think I shocked everyone in the room by walking in early, with coffee, and without my bag, which showed that I'd actually had time to make it to my desk and put it down before dashing into the room as I usually do.
At the time, I thought that I should try to do this every day; the city has a fresh feeling to it when people are just beginning to wake up, I was productive on the mostly-empty shuttle, and by the time my eight a.m. was over, I was already caught up for the day. However, by two p.m., when my energy was noticeably flagging and I just wanted to crawl into a corner and take a nap, I doubted that my morning self had really had such a lovely time that it could make a case for waking up early again in the future. So I caught an early shuttle home (although by the time I got home at a little before six, I had been involved in work activities for nearly eleven hours, so it's not like I was slacking), where I sat around and ate a sandwich and watched Shawn Johnson on David Letterman, which I tivo'd the other night (verdict: she's America's Sweetheart, regardless of what Nastia Liukin's shark of an agent thinks).
I intended to work on the book tonight, but I took a Dramamine to keep me productive during the shuttle ride home, and that + the 5:40am start made me feel a little fuzzy tonight. Instead, I started reading 'Twilight' - it's the first in that four-volume young-adult vampire series that created such a frenzy a month ago when the last book in the series was introduced. In fact, it was published during the romance writers' conference, and the conference organizers set up a special location where conference goers could buy/pick up copies at the conference at midnight, rather than walking three blocks to the Borders in Union Square. I've heard excellent things about it but hadn't read any of them yet -- until tonight, when I read half of 'Twilight'.
Verdict: so far so good. Her writing style and prose itself are clearly superior to JK Rowling's, and she's working with a vaguely epic storyline that I expect to get more epic as the series progresses. I can see why the book became a hit; but then again, there are many young adult books I read back in the day that I thought should have become bigger hits than they were (for example, anything by Robin McKinley, whom I adore -- happily she now blogs everyday, which gives me a fix, and her new book 'Chalice' is coming out in less than a month, and I already have it on preorder). So I'll keep going with them, and just hope that by the end of the four-book series I'll be satisfied rather than primed for more.
Tomorrow's another day in the office, but it shouldn't be horrendous, and then I have a three-day weekend! Yay! As one of the last two weekends before I turn 27, I intend to make the most of it. But right now, I'm going to make the most of my bed -- goodnight!
At the time, I thought that I should try to do this every day; the city has a fresh feeling to it when people are just beginning to wake up, I was productive on the mostly-empty shuttle, and by the time my eight a.m. was over, I was already caught up for the day. However, by two p.m., when my energy was noticeably flagging and I just wanted to crawl into a corner and take a nap, I doubted that my morning self had really had such a lovely time that it could make a case for waking up early again in the future. So I caught an early shuttle home (although by the time I got home at a little before six, I had been involved in work activities for nearly eleven hours, so it's not like I was slacking), where I sat around and ate a sandwich and watched Shawn Johnson on David Letterman, which I tivo'd the other night (verdict: she's America's Sweetheart, regardless of what Nastia Liukin's shark of an agent thinks).
I intended to work on the book tonight, but I took a Dramamine to keep me productive during the shuttle ride home, and that + the 5:40am start made me feel a little fuzzy tonight. Instead, I started reading 'Twilight' - it's the first in that four-volume young-adult vampire series that created such a frenzy a month ago when the last book in the series was introduced. In fact, it was published during the romance writers' conference, and the conference organizers set up a special location where conference goers could buy/pick up copies at the conference at midnight, rather than walking three blocks to the Borders in Union Square. I've heard excellent things about it but hadn't read any of them yet -- until tonight, when I read half of 'Twilight'.
Verdict: so far so good. Her writing style and prose itself are clearly superior to JK Rowling's, and she's working with a vaguely epic storyline that I expect to get more epic as the series progresses. I can see why the book became a hit; but then again, there are many young adult books I read back in the day that I thought should have become bigger hits than they were (for example, anything by Robin McKinley, whom I adore -- happily she now blogs everyday, which gives me a fix, and her new book 'Chalice' is coming out in less than a month, and I already have it on preorder). So I'll keep going with them, and just hope that by the end of the four-book series I'll be satisfied rather than primed for more.
Tomorrow's another day in the office, but it shouldn't be horrendous, and then I have a three-day weekend! Yay! As one of the last two weekends before I turn 27, I intend to make the most of it. But right now, I'm going to make the most of my bed -- goodnight!
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
don't try to bleed me, 'cause i've been here before and i deserve a little more
I wonder if my body suddenly decided to grow up. My sleeping patterns have completely shifted, so that I'm waking up (somewhat) at six a.m., voluntarily, and desperate to crash by ten p.m. It's like my body said, "Hey, Sara, you're turning twenty-seven in two weeks, and maybe it's time you should start waking up early like a real adult!" -- and then promptly decided to force the issue, even though my conscious brain has certainly not signed off on that course of action.
So even though it's only 9:30, I'm about to go to bed. I have an eight a.m. meeting in the south bay tomorrow morning, and I don't want to drive; I drove today so that I would make it in for an 8:30 meeting, but there was an accident on the freeway and I ended up being late. The shuttle in general is much better than driving, since I arrive home more exhausted if I had to drive each way, but the critical issue is that I have to leave half an hour earlier because I have to walk to the shuttle stop, ride it while it stops again on its way out of the city, and then catch another connector shuttle from the west side of campus to the east side of campus when the shuttle arrives in the south bay. In general this is fine because I can be v. productive while on the shuttle itself--but the temptation to sleep an extra half hour in the morning is v. difficult to resist.
Today was good, if you think that 'good' can encompass a day in which one has meetings straight through from 8:30am to 4pm. After work, I got the last bit of stuff out of my temporary storage unit, then spent an hour working on the novel at a Starbucks. I was v. pleasantly interrupted when Vidya (aka the Chandlord) called me; while we've emailed and IM'd several times since she moved to ye olde east coast, this was the first time we'd caught up verbally, and it was v. nice. I'm going to switch my labelling rule slightly and give her a label anytime I actually talk to her on the phone, rather than sticking to my strict policy of using the 'vidya' label only for times when we hung out in person. This has absolutely no bearing on your life, but I thought I'd mention it.
So the book is going well; I'm enjoying the editing process now that I've decided to skip the first couple of chapters. I'm aiming to have a second draft that I can share with a few people for feedback purposes by the weekend after my birthday, and I got approval to take September 11 and 12 off. That means I'll have a four-day weekend, which is the perfect amount of time to get a facial and a pedicure, bum around in some of my favorite city cafes, and make a concerted push to get through the rest of the necessary edits. It also helps that I get a three-day weekend this week; I'm feeling that the goal of a second draft by my birthday weekend is doable, even if I'm (scarily) turning 27 two weeks from tomorrow. On that shocking, depressing note, it's time for bed!
So even though it's only 9:30, I'm about to go to bed. I have an eight a.m. meeting in the south bay tomorrow morning, and I don't want to drive; I drove today so that I would make it in for an 8:30 meeting, but there was an accident on the freeway and I ended up being late. The shuttle in general is much better than driving, since I arrive home more exhausted if I had to drive each way, but the critical issue is that I have to leave half an hour earlier because I have to walk to the shuttle stop, ride it while it stops again on its way out of the city, and then catch another connector shuttle from the west side of campus to the east side of campus when the shuttle arrives in the south bay. In general this is fine because I can be v. productive while on the shuttle itself--but the temptation to sleep an extra half hour in the morning is v. difficult to resist.
Today was good, if you think that 'good' can encompass a day in which one has meetings straight through from 8:30am to 4pm. After work, I got the last bit of stuff out of my temporary storage unit, then spent an hour working on the novel at a Starbucks. I was v. pleasantly interrupted when Vidya (aka the Chandlord) called me; while we've emailed and IM'd several times since she moved to ye olde east coast, this was the first time we'd caught up verbally, and it was v. nice. I'm going to switch my labelling rule slightly and give her a label anytime I actually talk to her on the phone, rather than sticking to my strict policy of using the 'vidya' label only for times when we hung out in person. This has absolutely no bearing on your life, but I thought I'd mention it.
So the book is going well; I'm enjoying the editing process now that I've decided to skip the first couple of chapters. I'm aiming to have a second draft that I can share with a few people for feedback purposes by the weekend after my birthday, and I got approval to take September 11 and 12 off. That means I'll have a four-day weekend, which is the perfect amount of time to get a facial and a pedicure, bum around in some of my favorite city cafes, and make a concerted push to get through the rest of the necessary edits. It also helps that I get a three-day weekend this week; I'm feeling that the goal of a second draft by my birthday weekend is doable, even if I'm (scarily) turning 27 two weeks from tomorrow. On that shocking, depressing note, it's time for bed!
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
millions of peaches, peaches for me
I ate a peach today, and it was delicious! I never really think of them in the pantheon of available fruits, but I was looking for something to eat while I was sitting around waiting to see if I would react to and die from the allergy shot I got this morning (verdict: no reaction, no death, try again on Thursday), and I found peaches in the microkitchen. Mmm.
The rest of my day at work was fine; I had a lot of meetings today, and I have meetings tomorrow straight from 8:30am to 4pm, so that's not going to be fun. I got on the shuttle home at 5:30 with the intention of working for another hour, but of course the wireless on the bus wasn't working on the one day that I needed it to work, and the IT people didn't give me the necessary software for my satellite wireless card when I got my new laptop, so I was connectionless. This turned out to be fine, since I worked on my book half the way home, then tried not to throw up from nauseousness on the other half of the ride.
When I got home, I made some truly excellent quesadillas with peppers, onions, and mushrooms. Then I spent two more hours working on the book -- I edited about fifty pages tonight, which was great progress. Now I should really go to bed so that I can get up tomorow and do it all over again. But the good news is that tomorrow's Wednesday, which means we're only halfway to a three-day-weekend! Yay!!! And I can spend the weekend working on the book to my heart's content.
The rest of my day at work was fine; I had a lot of meetings today, and I have meetings tomorrow straight from 8:30am to 4pm, so that's not going to be fun. I got on the shuttle home at 5:30 with the intention of working for another hour, but of course the wireless on the bus wasn't working on the one day that I needed it to work, and the IT people didn't give me the necessary software for my satellite wireless card when I got my new laptop, so I was connectionless. This turned out to be fine, since I worked on my book half the way home, then tried not to throw up from nauseousness on the other half of the ride.
When I got home, I made some truly excellent quesadillas with peppers, onions, and mushrooms. Then I spent two more hours working on the book -- I edited about fifty pages tonight, which was great progress. Now I should really go to bed so that I can get up tomorow and do it all over again. But the good news is that tomorrow's Wednesday, which means we're only halfway to a three-day-weekend! Yay!!! And I can spend the weekend working on the book to my heart's content.
Monday, August 25, 2008
olympic-sized void in my heart
I would like to claim that today was a grey and somber day, but that would be melodramatic and inaccurate even for me. In fact, the sun was amazingly out early this morning, unlike the usual morning fog, so I woke up a little after six a.m. I didn't get to work any earlier as a result of that, since I sat around in my apartment and caught up on email here instead, but it was quite the change of pace from my usual 'hit snooze four times' routine.
Work was pretty uneventful, although I spent the entire day in meetings. I can't tell you why I have so many meetings; it's just a fact of life. It's just sad that I came back to work with the goal of limiting my meetings wherever possible, and I'm already facing days where all available time has been taking by random meetings. Granted, I am a little better than I was -- I blocked my calendar after five p.m. every day so that I have the option of catching the 5:30 shuttle, and I'm starting to block off some work time during the week. But I guess meetings are the price you pay for climbing the corporate ladder, and obviously a day of sitting in meetings is preferable to a day of digging trenches.
After work, I ran a couple of errands, and then met up with Terry for dinner at California Pizza Kitchen in Palo Alto. I hadn't caught up with her in awhile, nor had I had my favorite roasted garlic chicken pizza in several months, so this effectively killed two birds with one stone. It was good to see her, and we have tentative plans to hang out on Saturday and focus on writing (romance novel in my case, grad school applications in her case...we'll see which is the better idea in the long run :) On the way home, which took less than 45 minutes because traffic was perfect, I talked to my brother, who made me insanely jealous by mentioning that he's going to visit Katie this weekend. I tried to retaliate by claiming that I slept with his best friend, but he wasn't buying it.
When I got home, there was a lot of exciting stuff waiting in the mailbox, including a package from my mom (thanks Mom!) and two envelopes full of photos that I had ordered from the Kodak gallery last week. The photos are great -- I ordered a whole bunch of 4x6s of my trip to Europe that I want to hang above my desk as inspiration for my romance novel, and I also ordered nine 8x10s that I want to frame and place artistically on the wall above my bed. The 8x10s turned out perfectly, so the next task is to find some appropriate frames. I also need to figure out how to hang the bulletin board that I bought without destroying Chandlord's wall; luckily she left some paint that matches her walls, but ideally it wouldn't come to that.
Even thought it's not quite ten p.m., I'm quite tired, so I think I'll get ready for bed. I'm hopeful that tomorrow evening I can get back to the book; I'm taking the shuttle tomorrow, which should help me to power through all of my work work so that I can focus on writing when I get home. For now, though, goodnight!
Work was pretty uneventful, although I spent the entire day in meetings. I can't tell you why I have so many meetings; it's just a fact of life. It's just sad that I came back to work with the goal of limiting my meetings wherever possible, and I'm already facing days where all available time has been taking by random meetings. Granted, I am a little better than I was -- I blocked my calendar after five p.m. every day so that I have the option of catching the 5:30 shuttle, and I'm starting to block off some work time during the week. But I guess meetings are the price you pay for climbing the corporate ladder, and obviously a day of sitting in meetings is preferable to a day of digging trenches.
After work, I ran a couple of errands, and then met up with Terry for dinner at California Pizza Kitchen in Palo Alto. I hadn't caught up with her in awhile, nor had I had my favorite roasted garlic chicken pizza in several months, so this effectively killed two birds with one stone. It was good to see her, and we have tentative plans to hang out on Saturday and focus on writing (romance novel in my case, grad school applications in her case...we'll see which is the better idea in the long run :) On the way home, which took less than 45 minutes because traffic was perfect, I talked to my brother, who made me insanely jealous by mentioning that he's going to visit Katie this weekend. I tried to retaliate by claiming that I slept with his best friend, but he wasn't buying it.
When I got home, there was a lot of exciting stuff waiting in the mailbox, including a package from my mom (thanks Mom!) and two envelopes full of photos that I had ordered from the Kodak gallery last week. The photos are great -- I ordered a whole bunch of 4x6s of my trip to Europe that I want to hang above my desk as inspiration for my romance novel, and I also ordered nine 8x10s that I want to frame and place artistically on the wall above my bed. The 8x10s turned out perfectly, so the next task is to find some appropriate frames. I also need to figure out how to hang the bulletin board that I bought without destroying Chandlord's wall; luckily she left some paint that matches her walls, but ideally it wouldn't come to that.
Even thought it's not quite ten p.m., I'm quite tired, so I think I'll get ready for bed. I'm hopeful that tomorrow evening I can get back to the book; I'm taking the shuttle tomorrow, which should help me to power through all of my work work so that I can focus on writing when I get home. For now, though, goodnight!
Sunday, August 24, 2008
i wear my sunglasses at night
I am actually wearing sunglasses -- to be specific, my prescription sunglasses, which I wore once on my way home to Iowa last spring before deciding that they were improperly calibrated. I'm giving them another try -- the problem may not be the calibration, but rather the fact that they are huge compared to my regular glasses, and I'm not used to wearing glasses that cover my entire field of vision.
After that incredibly interesting story, it's time to switch to the even more interesting subject of what I did today. I was actually surprisingly productive; I woke up before eight a.m. (shocking) with the strong desire to work on my book. I didn't actually get around to leaving the apartment until after ten, but then I sat at a cafe for almost three hours and edited a couple of chapters. I've decided that I need to just ignore the first two chapters for now; I'm putting too much pressure on myself with them because if I convince an agent to look at my work, they will just request the first three chapters, and if I fail with those, they won't ask for the rest of the manuscript or offer representation. And once I get past the first two chapters, I love a lot of what I've written, so that's good.
When I looked at the clock on my computer, I realized it was 1pm, which was the starting time for the barbecue I was supposed to go to in Emeryville. So I hauled myself back to my apartment, switched into a cute halter-style ankle-length sundress that I've been wanting to wear all summer, and drove over the bay bridge to the hated east bay. As usual, the hated east bay was quite lovely; it was warmer than it was in San Francisco this afternoon, and the barbecue was at the marina, which is awesome. John and Jess were hosting; they've been in LA for the summer and this was John's first official weekend back (although he was back the night of my Olympics party, resulting in a food-coloring mustache for him and a hangover for me), so it was good to catch up. We hung out for a couple of hours, enjoyed some excellent grilled sausages and a delicious homemade peach pie, and generally had a good ol' time. On the way back to SF, I had my weekly conversation with my parents; I'm trying to convince them to come and visit me, although they will be less than excited about the homeless people and the tranny hookers that they may see if we venture into the Tenderloin.
I spent the rest of the day generally organizing. I did four loads of laundry, washed up the remaining dishes from last night (and ate some of the vegetarian chili -- it turned out fantastically), and finally got around to fully setting up my desk. Now I have all of my favorite little desk toys out and about, my office supplies are organized, my inks and fountain pens are ready for use, and my Hello Kitty calculator is prominently displayed for any simple math that I may need to do in the future. The next step is to get a big bulletin board for hanging up various photos, news snippets, souvenirs, maps, and other things that will help to inspire my books, but that can wait a few days.
So in general, I'm pretty happy. Although I'm sad to report that I didn't even watch the Closing Ceremonies tonight. Part of that is because I don't quite want to acknowledge that the Olympics are over; part is because I was intent on making progress while I felt like doing something useful; and part is because I am itching to get into a non-Olympics routine. However, I tivo'd the ceremonies, so I'll likely watching them sometime in the next couple of days. Then I'll start my countdown to Vancouver, which is v. exciting!
After that incredibly interesting story, it's time to switch to the even more interesting subject of what I did today. I was actually surprisingly productive; I woke up before eight a.m. (shocking) with the strong desire to work on my book. I didn't actually get around to leaving the apartment until after ten, but then I sat at a cafe for almost three hours and edited a couple of chapters. I've decided that I need to just ignore the first two chapters for now; I'm putting too much pressure on myself with them because if I convince an agent to look at my work, they will just request the first three chapters, and if I fail with those, they won't ask for the rest of the manuscript or offer representation. And once I get past the first two chapters, I love a lot of what I've written, so that's good.
When I looked at the clock on my computer, I realized it was 1pm, which was the starting time for the barbecue I was supposed to go to in Emeryville. So I hauled myself back to my apartment, switched into a cute halter-style ankle-length sundress that I've been wanting to wear all summer, and drove over the bay bridge to the hated east bay. As usual, the hated east bay was quite lovely; it was warmer than it was in San Francisco this afternoon, and the barbecue was at the marina, which is awesome. John and Jess were hosting; they've been in LA for the summer and this was John's first official weekend back (although he was back the night of my Olympics party, resulting in a food-coloring mustache for him and a hangover for me), so it was good to catch up. We hung out for a couple of hours, enjoyed some excellent grilled sausages and a delicious homemade peach pie, and generally had a good ol' time. On the way back to SF, I had my weekly conversation with my parents; I'm trying to convince them to come and visit me, although they will be less than excited about the homeless people and the tranny hookers that they may see if we venture into the Tenderloin.
I spent the rest of the day generally organizing. I did four loads of laundry, washed up the remaining dishes from last night (and ate some of the vegetarian chili -- it turned out fantastically), and finally got around to fully setting up my desk. Now I have all of my favorite little desk toys out and about, my office supplies are organized, my inks and fountain pens are ready for use, and my Hello Kitty calculator is prominently displayed for any simple math that I may need to do in the future. The next step is to get a big bulletin board for hanging up various photos, news snippets, souvenirs, maps, and other things that will help to inspire my books, but that can wait a few days.
So in general, I'm pretty happy. Although I'm sad to report that I didn't even watch the Closing Ceremonies tonight. Part of that is because I don't quite want to acknowledge that the Olympics are over; part is because I was intent on making progress while I felt like doing something useful; and part is because I am itching to get into a non-Olympics routine. However, I tivo'd the ceremonies, so I'll likely watching them sometime in the next couple of days. Then I'll start my countdown to Vancouver, which is v. exciting!
wariner galloping through the stretch
Oddly enough, the only guy whose cuteness Cynthia Potter, the diving commentator, commented on during tonight's men's 10m platform finals was the 14-year-old from Great Britain. I would wag my finger at her and call her a creepy cougar, but last night I made a terribly inappropriate observation about the way that his tiny speedo drew attention to his package. Then I realized he was fourteen and felt a little ill. Then I blogged about it tonight! Sigh.
While I was watching the women's 4x400 relay, I thought that the call sounded like the announcing for the Kentucky Derby. Then, during the men's 4x400, Tom Hammond actually said 'there's Wariner galloping through the stretch', which seemed almost too perfectly tossed-in. Maybe the commentators have their own little inside jokes? Like Tom Hammond, Ato Bolden, and the others have their own points systems, and they score themselves on their ability to work in references to horse racing, the breakdown of USA Track and Field's leadership, 'it's a fair start', Wariner's coaching change at the beginning of the year, Usain Bolt's 'lightning', etc. And then, at the end of the Olympics, they'll tally it all up and give the winner a ridiculous prize. Or maybe the winner gets to participate in whatever virgin-killing, blood-drinking, soul-stealing ritual Bob Costas engages in to cleanse himself of his latest commentary and keep himself immortal! That would be awesome!
Today was pretty good; I got up this morning and ran some errands, and then drove to Pleasanton for Gyre's kid's first birthday party. That kid is seriously one of the cutest babies I have seen in my entire life; if you don't believe me, check out his blog. I got there around the same time as Lizzie, which gave us a chance to catch up. Pleasanton is a little less than an hour away from here, but I'm glad that I went, if for no other reason than that it was cold and foggy in San Francisco, and ninety degrees and cloudless in the east bay.
When I got home, I walked to Whole Foods (the nearest grocery store to my apartment) and bought lots of vegetables. Then I came home and made two different dinners: number one was veggie fajitas, complete with guacamole, salsa, and sour cream, which were totally awesome; number two was vegetarian chili, which I didn't eat tonight and which I will freeze after it's had a chance to cool down in the fridge. I was really hungry for something other than the turkey and pepperjack sandwiches I've been eating at home, and prepping some spicier stuff that I can freeze and then reheat at my leisure is one of my favorite strategies. I ate my fajitas while watching the men's marathon; normally I don't like eating while watching the Olympics because it makes me feel even more slothlike, but I find the marathon to be such a ridiculous pursuit that I had absolutely no problem scarfing down my guac-laden tortillas while watching a bunch of underfed guys torture themselves for two hours. Any sporting event named after a pseudo-historical incident in which the original 'athlete' died upon completing the event is an event that no one should really participate in, right?
I spent the rest of the night watching Olympics (yay diving and yay an Australian stealing gold from the Chinese diver who could have completed the full Chinese sweep of diving golds) and working on my romance blog. I'm still debating whether to use Blogger or Wordpress; I like some of the Wordpress themes better, but you have to pay to be able to edit your own CSS files, and I'm used to Blogger's ease-of-editing-HTML. So we'll see, but I want to get the romance blog built out over the next few weeks. But I suppose I should finish the book first, right? Regardless, I'm not going to think about it now; it's time for bed!
While I was watching the women's 4x400 relay, I thought that the call sounded like the announcing for the Kentucky Derby. Then, during the men's 4x400, Tom Hammond actually said 'there's Wariner galloping through the stretch', which seemed almost too perfectly tossed-in. Maybe the commentators have their own little inside jokes? Like Tom Hammond, Ato Bolden, and the others have their own points systems, and they score themselves on their ability to work in references to horse racing, the breakdown of USA Track and Field's leadership, 'it's a fair start', Wariner's coaching change at the beginning of the year, Usain Bolt's 'lightning', etc. And then, at the end of the Olympics, they'll tally it all up and give the winner a ridiculous prize. Or maybe the winner gets to participate in whatever virgin-killing, blood-drinking, soul-stealing ritual Bob Costas engages in to cleanse himself of his latest commentary and keep himself immortal! That would be awesome!
Today was pretty good; I got up this morning and ran some errands, and then drove to Pleasanton for Gyre's kid's first birthday party. That kid is seriously one of the cutest babies I have seen in my entire life; if you don't believe me, check out his blog. I got there around the same time as Lizzie, which gave us a chance to catch up. Pleasanton is a little less than an hour away from here, but I'm glad that I went, if for no other reason than that it was cold and foggy in San Francisco, and ninety degrees and cloudless in the east bay.
When I got home, I walked to Whole Foods (the nearest grocery store to my apartment) and bought lots of vegetables. Then I came home and made two different dinners: number one was veggie fajitas, complete with guacamole, salsa, and sour cream, which were totally awesome; number two was vegetarian chili, which I didn't eat tonight and which I will freeze after it's had a chance to cool down in the fridge. I was really hungry for something other than the turkey and pepperjack sandwiches I've been eating at home, and prepping some spicier stuff that I can freeze and then reheat at my leisure is one of my favorite strategies. I ate my fajitas while watching the men's marathon; normally I don't like eating while watching the Olympics because it makes me feel even more slothlike, but I find the marathon to be such a ridiculous pursuit that I had absolutely no problem scarfing down my guac-laden tortillas while watching a bunch of underfed guys torture themselves for two hours. Any sporting event named after a pseudo-historical incident in which the original 'athlete' died upon completing the event is an event that no one should really participate in, right?
I spent the rest of the night watching Olympics (yay diving and yay an Australian stealing gold from the Chinese diver who could have completed the full Chinese sweep of diving golds) and working on my romance blog. I'm still debating whether to use Blogger or Wordpress; I like some of the Wordpress themes better, but you have to pay to be able to edit your own CSS files, and I'm used to Blogger's ease-of-editing-HTML. So we'll see, but I want to get the romance blog built out over the next few weeks. But I suppose I should finish the book first, right? Regardless, I'm not going to think about it now; it's time for bed!
Saturday, August 23, 2008
those cats were fast as lightning
I had an epiphany. Bob Costas has been more ridiculous than usual, and Mary Carillo's color commentary segments have sometimes bordered on offensive; the combination has made me question what NBC is thinking in not reining them in a little. However, then I realized -- anyone who has a tendency to be offended is already boycotting the Games. Just think -- all those people who can't overlook human rights violations, censorship, crass commercialism, exploitation of young athletes, etc., have already decided not to watch these Games. Which, by extension, means these may be the easiest Olympics for Bob Costas to host. He can do ridiculous things (like keep pressing Hugh McCutcheon, the volleyball coach whose father-in-law was stabbed to death randomly at the start of the Olympics, in an effort to see if he can strike ratings gold by squeezing some tears out of a stoic but tragedy-scarred coach), but as long as his offenses do not top the things that China does (like send two eighty-year-olds to labor reeducation camp for filing a request to protest the destruction of their homes in the construction of the Olympic buildings), no one cares. Brilliant!
My favorite part of any night is watching Bob Costas try to one-up his fellow commentators. I don't know how successful he is with Cris Collingsworth, since as I mentioned last night, I always skip him. But when Bela Karolyi was commentating, he showed video of Bela a couple of times in an apparent effort to embarass him. And whenever Mary Carillo gives one of her color commentaries, he always has to have the last jhoke -- in the case of tonight, this was quoting the 'Kung Fu Fighting' song because she had done a feature on kung fun monks. Mary Carillo's good for a few laughs too; I scored big with Katrina by claiming, in answer to Oniel's question about what Mary Carillo used to do, that she used to be John McEnroe before getting a sex change. Considering that she seems more masculine than Bob Costas, this is potentially believable.
So anyway, today was good; work wasn't bad, and then Oniel and Katrina came over to watch the Olympics. We ordered takeout Chinese, and it turned out to be really good -- and super close to my apartment (less than a block away), which is awesome. Oniel also brought 'traditional Chinese desserts' - in this case, well-received cookies that he bought at a convenience store on the way over. Katrina struck out with her dates, but only because I was so full from Chinese that I didn't have room or inclination for them :(
We had a fabulous time; I showed them some of last night's coverage, in particular focusing on the devastating disqualifications of both of the American 4x100m relay teams and the scathing commentary/dissection of the USA Track and Field organization by the track commentators after the event. Then we watched most of tonight live, while discussing other ridiculous tings (like how Oniel wants some of Michael Phelps' elusive chest hair, mostly because it seems impossible to get; or the origin of Cynthia Potter, the diving commentator; or the awesome glasses of Cuba's Dayron Robles, who rocks a style all his own (to the point that Tammy dubbed him a 'cheeterd' for being half cheetah/half nerd), but makes me wonder if he could be even faster if his socialized medicine could provide him with contact lenses.
Oniel left about twenty minutes ago, and I seriously considered going straight to bed without writing a post. But I've gone a long time w/out skipping, and I wanted to continue. Also, Katrina said/threatened that she will read in the morning to see if I left out any crucial issues, and I would hate to disappoint. Finally, I'm going to start another blog (already linked to above) so that I can start collecting content for a future romance novel website, so I need to make sure I'm dedicating time to both projects and don't let this particular form of communication fall by the wayside. Now, though, I'm falling asleep over my keyboard, so it's really time for bed!
My favorite part of any night is watching Bob Costas try to one-up his fellow commentators. I don't know how successful he is with Cris Collingsworth, since as I mentioned last night, I always skip him. But when Bela Karolyi was commentating, he showed video of Bela a couple of times in an apparent effort to embarass him. And whenever Mary Carillo gives one of her color commentaries, he always has to have the last jhoke -- in the case of tonight, this was quoting the 'Kung Fu Fighting' song because she had done a feature on kung fun monks. Mary Carillo's good for a few laughs too; I scored big with Katrina by claiming, in answer to Oniel's question about what Mary Carillo used to do, that she used to be John McEnroe before getting a sex change. Considering that she seems more masculine than Bob Costas, this is potentially believable.
So anyway, today was good; work wasn't bad, and then Oniel and Katrina came over to watch the Olympics. We ordered takeout Chinese, and it turned out to be really good -- and super close to my apartment (less than a block away), which is awesome. Oniel also brought 'traditional Chinese desserts' - in this case, well-received cookies that he bought at a convenience store on the way over. Katrina struck out with her dates, but only because I was so full from Chinese that I didn't have room or inclination for them :(
We had a fabulous time; I showed them some of last night's coverage, in particular focusing on the devastating disqualifications of both of the American 4x100m relay teams and the scathing commentary/dissection of the USA Track and Field organization by the track commentators after the event. Then we watched most of tonight live, while discussing other ridiculous tings (like how Oniel wants some of Michael Phelps' elusive chest hair, mostly because it seems impossible to get; or the origin of Cynthia Potter, the diving commentator; or the awesome glasses of Cuba's Dayron Robles, who rocks a style all his own (to the point that Tammy dubbed him a 'cheeterd' for being half cheetah/half nerd), but makes me wonder if he could be even faster if his socialized medicine could provide him with contact lenses.
Oniel left about twenty minutes ago, and I seriously considered going straight to bed without writing a post. But I've gone a long time w/out skipping, and I wanted to continue. Also, Katrina said/threatened that she will read in the morning to see if I left out any crucial issues, and I would hate to disappoint. Finally, I'm going to start another blog (already linked to above) so that I can start collecting content for a future romance novel website, so I need to make sure I'm dedicating time to both projects and don't let this particular form of communication fall by the wayside. Now, though, I'm falling asleep over my keyboard, so it's really time for bed!
Thursday, August 21, 2008
laying a giant egg in the bird's nest
Bob Costas' commentary continues to amaze and delight, and by amaze and delight I mean annoy and delight. He is well on his way to being the Dick Clark of our time, given that he appears to have stayed the exact same age for the past three Olympics, but as is befitting of the 21st century, he's a little bit sassier. The fact that his commentary is so weird this time (like the quote in the title of my blog post, in relation to the performance of the American track and field team) obviously entertains me, but only on nights like tonight, when I've gotten enough sleep and am not cranky like I was on the night when he condescendingly told America that we just need to get over our sleep deficit.
But the diving commentator just said "It's very sad to watch a dream die" in relation to Laura Wilkinson's meltdown on the second and third dives of the women's 10m platform finals, which I thought was a great melodramatic line. And I can marvel over the Chinese divers -- even if they look like they've been starved, their dives are incredible. Although I must say that the female commentator doesn't seem to understand biology -- she's great at bitchy remarks about divers, but in regards to one of the Chinese divers, she said "she didn't blink during that handstand...there wasn't a single rapid eye movement". Unless she was expecting that the diver would go into a quick bit of REM sleep on the platform, that seems irrelevant.
I'm gonna finish watching diving and then go to bed; there was plenty that I could skip while catching up on last night and watching tonight's coverage, since they played the women's gold medal beach volleyball final, a long interview with those annoying gold medalists, a Cris Collingsworth piece on the men's beach volleyball players (it's easy to know to keep fast-forwarding because his teeth are so bright and wolf-like that they scare me away from the 'play' button), and are getting ready to show the men's beach volleyball final. This is good news, despite my dislike of beach volleyball, because it means a) beach volleyball is done, so tomorrow and Saturday aren't tainted, and b) I can go to bed tonight and not stay up until the end. Yay.
Tomorrow I have to go to work, obviously, and I'm hoping that Oniel and Katrina come over and watch Olympics tomorrow night. But overall I really need to get back to my book -- I was feeling really antsy and annoyed today, and I attribute it to the fact that I haven't really worked on the book since I got back to California. When I got home from work tonight, I had something approaching a vision about how I want my third book to open up. There's so much stuff about the next two books bubbling up while I'm commuting, cleaning my apartment, etc., and it's frustrating that I'm not working on them. I have no one to blame but myself, obviously, since I've been focused on playing, moving into my apartment, getting settled in at work, and watching the Olympics -- but starting this weekend, that all needs to change.
Now, after watching a "fifteen-year-old [thrill] her country with a dive for the ages" as the Chinese took gold and bronze in the women's 10m platform, it's time for bed!
But the diving commentator just said "It's very sad to watch a dream die" in relation to Laura Wilkinson's meltdown on the second and third dives of the women's 10m platform finals, which I thought was a great melodramatic line. And I can marvel over the Chinese divers -- even if they look like they've been starved, their dives are incredible. Although I must say that the female commentator doesn't seem to understand biology -- she's great at bitchy remarks about divers, but in regards to one of the Chinese divers, she said "she didn't blink during that handstand...there wasn't a single rapid eye movement". Unless she was expecting that the diver would go into a quick bit of REM sleep on the platform, that seems irrelevant.
I'm gonna finish watching diving and then go to bed; there was plenty that I could skip while catching up on last night and watching tonight's coverage, since they played the women's gold medal beach volleyball final, a long interview with those annoying gold medalists, a Cris Collingsworth piece on the men's beach volleyball players (it's easy to know to keep fast-forwarding because his teeth are so bright and wolf-like that they scare me away from the 'play' button), and are getting ready to show the men's beach volleyball final. This is good news, despite my dislike of beach volleyball, because it means a) beach volleyball is done, so tomorrow and Saturday aren't tainted, and b) I can go to bed tonight and not stay up until the end. Yay.
Tomorrow I have to go to work, obviously, and I'm hoping that Oniel and Katrina come over and watch Olympics tomorrow night. But overall I really need to get back to my book -- I was feeling really antsy and annoyed today, and I attribute it to the fact that I haven't really worked on the book since I got back to California. When I got home from work tonight, I had something approaching a vision about how I want my third book to open up. There's so much stuff about the next two books bubbling up while I'm commuting, cleaning my apartment, etc., and it's frustrating that I'm not working on them. I have no one to blame but myself, obviously, since I've been focused on playing, moving into my apartment, getting settled in at work, and watching the Olympics -- but starting this weekend, that all needs to change.
Now, after watching a "fifteen-year-old [thrill] her country with a dive for the ages" as the Chinese took gold and bronze in the women's 10m platform, it's time for bed!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
gegrillte nünberger bratwurst mit sauerkraut und kartoffelbrei
Tonight I had dinner with a blast from the past -- Jesse, my co-RA from the old Mirlo days. It's been years since we've actually caught up; any time one of us reached out to see if the other one was around and willing to hang out, the other one was in the process of moving or doing something else. But Jesse's back in town for a couple of months, since his team is based here but he's living in Phoenix, and this time we finally managed to catch up.
We met up at Suppenküche, a German restaurant in the Hayes Valley neighborhood, which is about a mile from my apartment. I should have just walked there, since I ended up paying $7 for parking rather than continuing to circle, but it was nice to be able to drive home at the end of the night. I'd heard good things about Suppenküche, but the majority of my dinner-sharing friends are vegetarian, so places where the only vegetarian options are spaetzel and beer are usually out of the running. It was insanely crowded, especially for a Wednesday; we waited around half an hour for a table, which we ended up sharing with another party because the tables are long, 8- to 10-person communal affairs like beer houses are apparently like in Germany. I don't remember that from Germany, but since my German experience mainly consisted of three days of dancing to blaring techno music and my calories came mostly from vodka, rum, and Red Bull, I may have just missed out on that side of German life.
It was awesome to see Jesse, and I'm sad that we lost touch over the years; there are always a few people whom you will wonder about over the course of your life, and Jesse's one of them for me. I've mostly forgotten the other kids in that dorm (other than Tammy, Shedletsky, Terry, and Lisa, all of whom I'm still in active contact with, as well as characters like Texan Dave, Eric the Viking, Jason, Emma, Peter, and the pot-smoking athletes on my floor), since for me my better RA experience happened the following year in Loro, but Jesse's great. So it was good to catch up, and even better to catch up over pork sausages and mashed potatoes. I probably won't go back to Suppenküche just because of my vegetarian-friend dilemma, but I recommend it if you're into meat, potatoes, or beer.
The rest of my day was pretty uneventful. I wanted to watch Olympics tonight but I got home from dinner at ten p.m., and I'm so tired that I think I should go to sleep, wake up early tomorrow, and make it to the shuttle in a more leisurely way than my forced-march stride up the hill that I had to make this morning. Tomorrow should be interesting; I have a variety of meetings, but I also start my allergy shot series - allergy shots every Tuesday and Thursday for the next three months. I got the results of my blood test back, and it turns out everything's negative, so my doctor thinks that allergy shots will help clear up the cross-reactions I have between certain weeds/pollens and certain fruits/vegetables. With my luck, she'll cure my oral allergy to bananas just in time for them to go extinct, but we'll see what happens. Now, though, it's time for bed!
We met up at Suppenküche, a German restaurant in the Hayes Valley neighborhood, which is about a mile from my apartment. I should have just walked there, since I ended up paying $7 for parking rather than continuing to circle, but it was nice to be able to drive home at the end of the night. I'd heard good things about Suppenküche, but the majority of my dinner-sharing friends are vegetarian, so places where the only vegetarian options are spaetzel and beer are usually out of the running. It was insanely crowded, especially for a Wednesday; we waited around half an hour for a table, which we ended up sharing with another party because the tables are long, 8- to 10-person communal affairs like beer houses are apparently like in Germany. I don't remember that from Germany, but since my German experience mainly consisted of three days of dancing to blaring techno music and my calories came mostly from vodka, rum, and Red Bull, I may have just missed out on that side of German life.
It was awesome to see Jesse, and I'm sad that we lost touch over the years; there are always a few people whom you will wonder about over the course of your life, and Jesse's one of them for me. I've mostly forgotten the other kids in that dorm (other than Tammy, Shedletsky, Terry, and Lisa, all of whom I'm still in active contact with, as well as characters like Texan Dave, Eric the Viking, Jason, Emma, Peter, and the pot-smoking athletes on my floor), since for me my better RA experience happened the following year in Loro, but Jesse's great. So it was good to catch up, and even better to catch up over pork sausages and mashed potatoes. I probably won't go back to Suppenküche just because of my vegetarian-friend dilemma, but I recommend it if you're into meat, potatoes, or beer.
The rest of my day was pretty uneventful. I wanted to watch Olympics tonight but I got home from dinner at ten p.m., and I'm so tired that I think I should go to sleep, wake up early tomorrow, and make it to the shuttle in a more leisurely way than my forced-march stride up the hill that I had to make this morning. Tomorrow should be interesting; I have a variety of meetings, but I also start my allergy shot series - allergy shots every Tuesday and Thursday for the next three months. I got the results of my blood test back, and it turns out everything's negative, so my doctor thinks that allergy shots will help clear up the cross-reactions I have between certain weeds/pollens and certain fruits/vegetables. With my luck, she'll cure my oral allergy to bananas just in time for them to go extinct, but we'll see what happens. Now, though, it's time for bed!
the agony and the ecstasy
Iowa went 1 for 2 in terms of Olympics results tonight. Lolo Jones, the favorite in the women's 100m hurdles, clipped the ninth hurdle and ended up coming in seventh, which was a devastating finish for her given how great she looked in the qualifying rounds. Granted, she was honored with a likeness of herself carved in ice at the Iowa State Fair, but I'm sure she would have rather had gold instead.
However, Shawn Johnson finally won her gold medal, coming on the last night of competition in the balance beam final. I should have gone to Katrina's tonight to celebrate her birthday (happy birthday, Katrina!) and watch some Olympics with her, but I emailed her this afternoon to politely decline the invitation because I wouldn't have been able to stand watching the final apparatus final with someone who was cheering for Nastia Liukin instead. I have nothing against Nastia at all, but Shawn is adorable, and I wanted to see her come home with a gold. Happily, Shawn and Nastia won gold and silver, closing out an amazing performance by both of them at these games. Shawn indicated in the post-event interview that she was interested in coming back in 2012, but you can't expect that she'll perform as well there as she did here, if the performances of other 20-year-olds (Cheng Fei, Alicia Sacramone, Chelsea Memmel, etc.) are any indication. Then again, the 33-year-old who competed for Germany came away with a medal, so I suppose anything is possible.
The other 'great' segment of tonight's coverage was Mary Carillo's feature segment on kite-flying in China. I think that her commentary sometimes borders on offensive, although I felt that the most when I was watching her segment on Chinese food, and then later remembered that I am a perpetrator of a great crime against Chinese culinary culture by playing the Shrimp or Feet game and laughing hysterically at the dim sum Cart of Horrors every time it rolls by our table. Anyway, apparently there are dueling kites, in which the strings are made out of crushed glass and glue -- man, if only the US safety standards were less stringent for children's toys, we could take care of some overpopulation issues and teach kids the art of kite-flying at the same time.
Now I'm going to bed without finishing tonight's coverage; I skipped the two men's apparatus finals because I started watching coverage later than usual tonight and had to prioritize so that I can go to bed. I had an 8:30am presentation to the directors this morning, managed to drag myself out of bed and get there on time, only to discover when I got there that they wanted to push me to 9:10. I was surly about my lost sleep the rest of the day, but unwillingly made up for it on the shuttle ride home -- this particular driver handled the bus like it was my old Pontiac Sunfire, stopping and starting abruptly, which was exacerbated by heavy traffic, and so I was only able to work for five minutes before I began to feel queasy and so went to sleep instead. Hopefully I get a better driver tomorrow, since the shuttle is more productive when I can get some work done on it. Goodnight!
However, Shawn Johnson finally won her gold medal, coming on the last night of competition in the balance beam final. I should have gone to Katrina's tonight to celebrate her birthday (happy birthday, Katrina!) and watch some Olympics with her, but I emailed her this afternoon to politely decline the invitation because I wouldn't have been able to stand watching the final apparatus final with someone who was cheering for Nastia Liukin instead. I have nothing against Nastia at all, but Shawn is adorable, and I wanted to see her come home with a gold. Happily, Shawn and Nastia won gold and silver, closing out an amazing performance by both of them at these games. Shawn indicated in the post-event interview that she was interested in coming back in 2012, but you can't expect that she'll perform as well there as she did here, if the performances of other 20-year-olds (Cheng Fei, Alicia Sacramone, Chelsea Memmel, etc.) are any indication. Then again, the 33-year-old who competed for Germany came away with a medal, so I suppose anything is possible.
The other 'great' segment of tonight's coverage was Mary Carillo's feature segment on kite-flying in China. I think that her commentary sometimes borders on offensive, although I felt that the most when I was watching her segment on Chinese food, and then later remembered that I am a perpetrator of a great crime against Chinese culinary culture by playing the Shrimp or Feet game and laughing hysterically at the dim sum Cart of Horrors every time it rolls by our table. Anyway, apparently there are dueling kites, in which the strings are made out of crushed glass and glue -- man, if only the US safety standards were less stringent for children's toys, we could take care of some overpopulation issues and teach kids the art of kite-flying at the same time.
Now I'm going to bed without finishing tonight's coverage; I skipped the two men's apparatus finals because I started watching coverage later than usual tonight and had to prioritize so that I can go to bed. I had an 8:30am presentation to the directors this morning, managed to drag myself out of bed and get there on time, only to discover when I got there that they wanted to push me to 9:10. I was surly about my lost sleep the rest of the day, but unwillingly made up for it on the shuttle ride home -- this particular driver handled the bus like it was my old Pontiac Sunfire, stopping and starting abruptly, which was exacerbated by heavy traffic, and so I was only able to work for five minutes before I began to feel queasy and so went to sleep instead. Hopefully I get a better driver tomorrow, since the shuttle is more productive when I can get some work done on it. Goodnight!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
shut up, bob costas
Bob Costas is really rubbing me the wrong way this year. Maybe it's because he doesn't seem to respect Bela Karolyi. Or maybe it's because NBC made the ridiculous decision to tape-delay live coverage for the West Coast, which means we have to watch from 8-midnight, three hours after everything 'live' actually happened, when they could have done 6-10 or 7-11. And then he has the audacity to offer these words of advice for people suffering from sleep deprivation:
1) stay hydrated
2) tell yourself you only need four hours of sleep
3) wear sunglasses to hide red eyes
4) crank up your ipod and listen to anything michael phelps does
5) skip work (you're never going to see an olympics like this again anyway)
Granted I'm addicted, but to be told this by the company that paid like a billion dollars for these games and then tape-delayed for a third of the country seems obnoxious. What are they going to do when the games are in Vancouver? Will they force Canada to schedule events late at night? Or show them live on the east coast and tape delay for the west coast even though we're in the same timezone?
At least there's no beach volleyball in the winter olympics. And now I really really have to go to bed, since I'm just getting crankier and I can't be cranky tomorrow morning. Goodnight!
1) stay hydrated
2) tell yourself you only need four hours of sleep
3) wear sunglasses to hide red eyes
4) crank up your ipod and listen to anything michael phelps does
5) skip work (you're never going to see an olympics like this again anyway)
Granted I'm addicted, but to be told this by the company that paid like a billion dollars for these games and then tape-delayed for a third of the country seems obnoxious. What are they going to do when the games are in Vancouver? Will they force Canada to schedule events late at night? Or show them live on the east coast and tape delay for the west coast even though we're in the same timezone?
At least there's no beach volleyball in the winter olympics. And now I really really have to go to bed, since I'm just getting crankier and I can't be cranky tomorrow morning. Goodnight!
of course i lied
I ended up staying awake for the uneven bars event final, since I'm addicted. The gymnastics scoring is nauseating. You just have to remind yourself of the small pleasures in life -- like the fact that Steliana Niestor's Romanian coach has an 80's porn star mustache. But seriously, the gymnastics federation needs to revisit the scoring system and bring back some experienced judges -- why should the Olympics be judged by people from New Zealand, South Africa, Australia, and other countries that have no one of any real talent in the gymnastics finals? I understand they want to remove bias, but it seems that the judges keep screwing up. It's just sad, because the gymnasts are doing amazing things -- all three of the medal winners on the uneven bars finals deserved medals without question, but it's being overshadowed by the craziness of scoring. Boo.
Okay, really time for bed!
Okay, really time for bed!
Monday, August 18, 2008
athens was apparently "the waterloo of chinese gymnastics"
I love the over-the-top comparisons used by commentators; but do you think Tim Daggett referred to the battle of Waterloo because he's a fan of history, or because he's a fan of ABBA?
I don't think I'm going to make it through tonight's coverage; it's been a long week and a half since they started, and the advent of Tivo makes it easier to go to bed when you know that you can catch up later. I'll be sacrificing seeing the women's uneven bars and the men's vault tonight, which means I may find out the results tomorrow, but I care more about Shawn Johnson's attempt at the beam, so it makes sense to go to bed tonight and stay up tomorrow. I also have an 8:30 meeting in which I have to present to a bunch of directors whom I haven't presented to in six months, so it would be nice to be awake for that.
Despite the exhaustion, today was great. My meetings were productive, I had lunch with Dan, and I ended up on the same shuttle as Alaska Matt, which was quite entertaining. Now, though, I'm going to get ready for bed!
I don't think I'm going to make it through tonight's coverage; it's been a long week and a half since they started, and the advent of Tivo makes it easier to go to bed when you know that you can catch up later. I'll be sacrificing seeing the women's uneven bars and the men's vault tonight, which means I may find out the results tomorrow, but I care more about Shawn Johnson's attempt at the beam, so it makes sense to go to bed tonight and stay up tomorrow. I also have an 8:30 meeting in which I have to present to a bunch of directors whom I haven't presented to in six months, so it would be nice to be awake for that.
Despite the exhaustion, today was great. My meetings were productive, I had lunch with Dan, and I ended up on the same shuttle as Alaska Matt, which was quite entertaining. Now, though, I'm going to get ready for bed!
return of the shrimp or feet game
I still adore the Olympics, and I of course am amazed, in awe of, in love with, etc., the sheer athleticism, competitive drive, and amazing overall performance of Michael Phelps. But I have to say that NBC's focus on him is a bit overwhelming; it was completely understandable when he was actively competing, but they ended with another replay of several of his races to cap out tonight's coverage...and he's completely done with swimming for this Olympics. They also ended w/some shots of Nastia Liukin's all-around final, even though Shawn Johnson beat her in the floor exercise tonight.
Granted, I'm just a little bit annoyed because I love Shawn Johnson and it was too bad that she had to go first on the floor, but it was also sad to watch Alicia Sacramone come in fourth after Cheng Fei fell on her vault and still scored higher. Watching Bela Karolyi say 'this ripoff was inadmissable' while almost crying made me feel better, though.
So despite that, today was a great day. Tammy, Shedletsky, Joanna and I had dim sum at the Hong Kong Opium Den (note: not the real name, but similarly addictive) before Tammy took off for LA. We played the Shrimp or Feet; for those not familiar with the rules, it involves someone in the dining party choosing a spatial location and an amount of time to countdown, and then eating whatever ridiculous thing happens to occupy that location when the countdown is finished. Since we're not going often enough to do a tournament, we chose today's player by drawing lots; Tammy won/lost and so had to play. She got lucky with some kind of pancake filled with green onions. She got very very lucky when you consider the other things that passed us by right before the timer went off, including some sort of stew with a plethora of feet, and the infamous Cart of Sadness which, with the addition of some serious tentacles and some questionable-looking puddings, has been tentatively redubbed the Cart of Horrors.
We ended up getting many of our old favorites -- both deep-fried and steamed shrimp in bean curd, shrimp egg rolls, shrimp dumplings aka shrimp families aka har gar, siu mai, bbq pork buns, steamed egg custard buns, rice noodle with shrimp, and deep fried shrimp dumpling w/mayonnaise, although we did not order any awesomely flat Cokes. We also got to sit in one of the best tables, on the second floor overlooking Millbrae, which is bad in terms of frequency of carts but nice in terms of view. And we had a ridiculous conversation, as usual, so that was quite entertaining.
After saying goodbye to Tammy, I came home, rubbed my tummy, took a nap, and then cleaned my apartment. Then I made shortcakes in honor of Katrina's birthday on Tuesday; she and Adit came over to watch Olympics, do laundry, and generally take advantage of my resources, and Adit had suggested that we get a cake for her. Since I had the ingredients for shortcake and a lot of leftover berries, I cooked instead, and they turned out perfectly. So we enjoyed some substantial family time, and they just left around midnight, when gymnastics and the women's 100m dash were finished. Now I desperately need to sleep -- this whole getting up and going to work thing is really cramping my style! Oh, well, I'm sure I'll forgive it once I actually get a paycheck again.
Granted, I'm just a little bit annoyed because I love Shawn Johnson and it was too bad that she had to go first on the floor, but it was also sad to watch Alicia Sacramone come in fourth after Cheng Fei fell on her vault and still scored higher. Watching Bela Karolyi say 'this ripoff was inadmissable' while almost crying made me feel better, though.
So despite that, today was a great day. Tammy, Shedletsky, Joanna and I had dim sum at the Hong Kong Opium Den (note: not the real name, but similarly addictive) before Tammy took off for LA. We played the Shrimp or Feet; for those not familiar with the rules, it involves someone in the dining party choosing a spatial location and an amount of time to countdown, and then eating whatever ridiculous thing happens to occupy that location when the countdown is finished. Since we're not going often enough to do a tournament, we chose today's player by drawing lots; Tammy won/lost and so had to play. She got lucky with some kind of pancake filled with green onions. She got very very lucky when you consider the other things that passed us by right before the timer went off, including some sort of stew with a plethora of feet, and the infamous Cart of Sadness which, with the addition of some serious tentacles and some questionable-looking puddings, has been tentatively redubbed the Cart of Horrors.
We ended up getting many of our old favorites -- both deep-fried and steamed shrimp in bean curd, shrimp egg rolls, shrimp dumplings aka shrimp families aka har gar, siu mai, bbq pork buns, steamed egg custard buns, rice noodle with shrimp, and deep fried shrimp dumpling w/mayonnaise, although we did not order any awesomely flat Cokes. We also got to sit in one of the best tables, on the second floor overlooking Millbrae, which is bad in terms of frequency of carts but nice in terms of view. And we had a ridiculous conversation, as usual, so that was quite entertaining.
After saying goodbye to Tammy, I came home, rubbed my tummy, took a nap, and then cleaned my apartment. Then I made shortcakes in honor of Katrina's birthday on Tuesday; she and Adit came over to watch Olympics, do laundry, and generally take advantage of my resources, and Adit had suggested that we get a cake for her. Since I had the ingredients for shortcake and a lot of leftover berries, I cooked instead, and they turned out perfectly. So we enjoyed some substantial family time, and they just left around midnight, when gymnastics and the women's 100m dash were finished. Now I desperately need to sleep -- this whole getting up and going to work thing is really cramping my style! Oh, well, I'm sure I'll forgive it once I actually get a paycheck again.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
not as dramatic as dong dong
What an amazing day! I adore the Olympics regardless of what is going on, but the last hour of primetime coverage tonight was nearly perfect. Tammy and I watched almost the entire thing live; we skipped some of the middle of the women's marathon to watch a bit of stuff that we'd Tivo'd from the afternoon, but the two women's swimming races (women's 50m individual, women's 4x100m medley relay), the men's 4x100m medley relay, and the men's 100m dash were all incredibly exciting. If my neighbors weren't watching the Olympics, they must have known that we were, since the end of the men's 4x100 (and Michael Phelps' last race) had us jumping up and down and shrieking hysterically, while the men's 100m dash just left us stunned by how fast the winner was.
I know it sounds absurd, but there was something just so awesome about watching history happen, even if I was watching it on the floor of an apartment half a world away (and three hours after it actually happened, thanks to NBC's ridiculous tape-delay-for-west-coast policy). Michael Phelps deserved all the hype, even if his teammates (Piersol, Hansen, and especially Lezak) probably deserved a bit more than they go. And Dana Torres is amazing, as is the guy who won the 100m dash.
This of course followed a full day of Olympics for us. We woke up around eleven and had brunch with Adit -- the place had the best French toast I have ever had in my entire life, and brunch was v. entertaining. Sadly Adit had to work and couldn't watch Olympics with us, but we persevered without him. I spent the whole afternoon watching various sports, like badminton, rowing, and trampoline (featuring the Chinese male trampoline gymnast Dong Dong, who was the subject of many bad jhokes). Tammy and I took a break at 6:30 to grab some Thai food down the street, and got back just in time to start watching tonight's coverage. Now we're 'warming down'; we watched a Tivo'd episode of "Dinner:Impossible" (in which a chef creates a meal for a large group in absurdly bad conditions), and are now watching latenight coverage.
Sadly, Tammy leaves tomorrow :( That means I'll have to watch track and field all by my lonesome next week. But we're saying goodbye in style -- we're meeting Shedletsky and Joanna at the Hong Kong Flower Lounge, and after watching Mary Carillo's color commentary story a couple of nights ago about the ridiculous things that you can eat in China, I'm really looking forward to some great dim sum. Then it's back to the Olympics, with perhaps a brief break to clean up my apartment, before I have to sleep so that I can go to work on Monday. Yay! Now it's time for late-night hurdles; more tomorrow!
I know it sounds absurd, but there was something just so awesome about watching history happen, even if I was watching it on the floor of an apartment half a world away (and three hours after it actually happened, thanks to NBC's ridiculous tape-delay-for-west-coast policy). Michael Phelps deserved all the hype, even if his teammates (Piersol, Hansen, and especially Lezak) probably deserved a bit more than they go. And Dana Torres is amazing, as is the guy who won the 100m dash.
This of course followed a full day of Olympics for us. We woke up around eleven and had brunch with Adit -- the place had the best French toast I have ever had in my entire life, and brunch was v. entertaining. Sadly Adit had to work and couldn't watch Olympics with us, but we persevered without him. I spent the whole afternoon watching various sports, like badminton, rowing, and trampoline (featuring the Chinese male trampoline gymnast Dong Dong, who was the subject of many bad jhokes). Tammy and I took a break at 6:30 to grab some Thai food down the street, and got back just in time to start watching tonight's coverage. Now we're 'warming down'; we watched a Tivo'd episode of "Dinner:Impossible" (in which a chef creates a meal for a large group in absurdly bad conditions), and are now watching latenight coverage.
Sadly, Tammy leaves tomorrow :( That means I'll have to watch track and field all by my lonesome next week. But we're saying goodbye in style -- we're meeting Shedletsky and Joanna at the Hong Kong Flower Lounge, and after watching Mary Carillo's color commentary story a couple of nights ago about the ridiculous things that you can eat in China, I'm really looking forward to some great dim sum. Then it's back to the Olympics, with perhaps a brief break to clean up my apartment, before I have to sleep so that I can go to work on Monday. Yay! Now it's time for late-night hurdles; more tomorrow!
Saturday, August 16, 2008
sex, drugs, and olympic watching
Actually I'm missing the sex and drugs part, but the Olympics have taken over my entire life. I woke up this morning after 5.5hrs of sleep, quickly showered, and hoofed it up the hill to the shuttle stop in time to make it to work. I have to say that the shuttle is pretty awesome; I took it last night and this morning for the first time, and I think it's great. I didn't get carsick at all, and was able to work on my laptop both last night and this morning. I think it will be good for me to have a chance to do emails in the morning and evening; when I got to work this morning, I was already caught up with emails, and I was able to get other things done. Combine that with the fact that I've been actively avoiding all news, video, blogs, and Olympics-related conversations this week to avoid finding out anything about the Olympics, and I've been remarkably effective.
So I worked all day, came home, and sped through the coverage from last night's women's gymnastics individual all-around. I was devastated about Shawn Johnson getting silver; while Nastia Liukin did a v. good job, and obviously silver is nice, I just adore her, and she must have been sad not to make it to the very top. I also got way too angry about the judges' scoring because I get way too excited about this kind of stuff. Then I took a fifteen-minute nap before Tammy got home -- it wasn't enough to rejuvenate me, but it was enough to get me through the night.
Tammy and I went out for dinner; the criteria were a) someplace within a couple of blocks, and b) something where we could drink something alcoholic. Using Yelp, I found Fina Estampa, which was a block and a half away; it's Spanish/Peruvian, which meant sangria, which meant awesome. When we walked in we were virtually the only people there, which gave us plenty of reason to think that we should go someplace else, but it turned out to be awesome. The sangria was good, the seafood paella was just about perfect, and Tammy and I had a v. entertaining conversation.
When we got back, we actually watched tonight's Olympics -- we're finally caught up on everything that happened the last few days (except for diving, which we're powering through tomorrow morning). The Michael Phelps race was absolutely incredible, and I'm glad we're moving into track and field. I also thought that Mark Spitz's interview was great. Tammy and I are just so super psyched about the whole Olympics thing, and I'm glad we're caught up. When I was getting off the bus today, the driver probably thought I was insane; the radio announcer mentioned Michael Phelps, and I immediately blocked my ears so effectively that I couldn't hear anything else, but that also meant I looked stupid and couldn't say goodbye to the driver. Ridiculous.
Now I'm going to bed, even though there's more Olympics to watch -- I'm just too exhausted to keep going right now. Goodnight!
So I worked all day, came home, and sped through the coverage from last night's women's gymnastics individual all-around. I was devastated about Shawn Johnson getting silver; while Nastia Liukin did a v. good job, and obviously silver is nice, I just adore her, and she must have been sad not to make it to the very top. I also got way too angry about the judges' scoring because I get way too excited about this kind of stuff. Then I took a fifteen-minute nap before Tammy got home -- it wasn't enough to rejuvenate me, but it was enough to get me through the night.
Tammy and I went out for dinner; the criteria were a) someplace within a couple of blocks, and b) something where we could drink something alcoholic. Using Yelp, I found Fina Estampa, which was a block and a half away; it's Spanish/Peruvian, which meant sangria, which meant awesome. When we walked in we were virtually the only people there, which gave us plenty of reason to think that we should go someplace else, but it turned out to be awesome. The sangria was good, the seafood paella was just about perfect, and Tammy and I had a v. entertaining conversation.
When we got back, we actually watched tonight's Olympics -- we're finally caught up on everything that happened the last few days (except for diving, which we're powering through tomorrow morning). The Michael Phelps race was absolutely incredible, and I'm glad we're moving into track and field. I also thought that Mark Spitz's interview was great. Tammy and I are just so super psyched about the whole Olympics thing, and I'm glad we're caught up. When I was getting off the bus today, the driver probably thought I was insane; the radio announcer mentioned Michael Phelps, and I immediately blocked my ears so effectively that I couldn't hear anything else, but that also meant I looked stupid and couldn't say goodbye to the driver. Ridiculous.
Now I'm going to bed, even though there's more Olympics to watch -- I'm just too exhausted to keep going right now. Goodnight!
Friday, August 15, 2008
you know who jonathan horton needs right now? jonathan horton.
I still think Bela Karolyi is the best commentator, followed by my beloved Dick Button, but Al Trautwig gives them a run for their money. He says ridiculous things regardless of which sport he's commentating; given that he commentates some rather out-there sports (like Olympic gymnastics and the Tour de France), he gets plenty of chances to make weird comparisons and absurd references. I love him!
I'm exhausted, but I can't stop Olympics!!! I had to be at work by eight a.m. today, and I made it, but getting through the multiple meetings the rest of the day was v. difficult. I left early and came home so that Tammy and I could keep on our death march through several days' worth of tivo'd Olympics coverage. We spent a couple of hours watching the women's team gymnastics final from Wednesday night; I already knew the results, and it was heartbreaking to watch it again with Tammy, hear the hope in her voice, and then watch Alicia Sacramone's meltdown. Not that the silver medal was all her fault, but watching the beam and the floor routines again was really sad.
We took a long break from gymnastics tonight to have dinner with Shedletsky and Joanna. Tammy picked the restaurant - Bushi-Tei on Post St in San Francisco. It was incredibly good, sort of Japanese/French fusion, and we stayed there for around three hours. We had a great bottle of wine, and then I ordered three starters as dinner. This is what I had (mainly for Felicia, who loves food): a tuna tartare with tobiko, wasabi-crème fraiche, coriander seed, and herb oil, a miso-marinated Wagyu beef with upland cress, apple, fennel, and French blue cheese, and green beans with fermented black beans and almonds. Of the three, the tuna tartare was really incredible; I like raw fish, and the presentations was gorgeous. The beef dish was good but I thought that the various flavors kind of overwhelmed the meat. However, overall everything was lovely, and I really liked the atmosphere -- we sat at the end of a big banquet table like we were aristocrats waiting for a dinner party to start, which was fun. We had a great time, and it was worth hanging out even if it means that Tammy and I couldn't get caught up tonight.
Now it's almost two a.m., and I'm still watching Olympics. Tammy and I got home from dinner around eleven, and spent the last three hours speeding through Wednesday's Olympics coverage. Tivo is great for fastforwarding through beach volleyball, and we can see the results of the swimming heats without having to watch every single race. But we haven't fastforwarded through any gymnastics -- we're on the last rotation of the men's individual all-around. The Americans don't seem to be doing well, the Japanese guy had a horrific fall on the rings and has come back to fourth at this point, and there's a Russian guy in third place whose name sounds like a bird call. All in all, it's fantastic.
No sharing results with me for tonight's women's all-around or Michael Phelps' quest for the gold -- we're watching that tomorrow night, and then hopefully will get all caught up. We have to go back through this past week's recordings and watch the diving events, and then fun things like track/field, synchronized swimming, and the gymnastics event finals start this weekend. Yay! But now I need to focus on gymnastics so that I can go to bed, get a few hours' sleep, and do it all again tomorrow!
I'm exhausted, but I can't stop Olympics!!! I had to be at work by eight a.m. today, and I made it, but getting through the multiple meetings the rest of the day was v. difficult. I left early and came home so that Tammy and I could keep on our death march through several days' worth of tivo'd Olympics coverage. We spent a couple of hours watching the women's team gymnastics final from Wednesday night; I already knew the results, and it was heartbreaking to watch it again with Tammy, hear the hope in her voice, and then watch Alicia Sacramone's meltdown. Not that the silver medal was all her fault, but watching the beam and the floor routines again was really sad.
We took a long break from gymnastics tonight to have dinner with Shedletsky and Joanna. Tammy picked the restaurant - Bushi-Tei on Post St in San Francisco. It was incredibly good, sort of Japanese/French fusion, and we stayed there for around three hours. We had a great bottle of wine, and then I ordered three starters as dinner. This is what I had (mainly for Felicia, who loves food): a tuna tartare with tobiko, wasabi-crème fraiche, coriander seed, and herb oil, a miso-marinated Wagyu beef with upland cress, apple, fennel, and French blue cheese, and green beans with fermented black beans and almonds. Of the three, the tuna tartare was really incredible; I like raw fish, and the presentations was gorgeous. The beef dish was good but I thought that the various flavors kind of overwhelmed the meat. However, overall everything was lovely, and I really liked the atmosphere -- we sat at the end of a big banquet table like we were aristocrats waiting for a dinner party to start, which was fun. We had a great time, and it was worth hanging out even if it means that Tammy and I couldn't get caught up tonight.
Now it's almost two a.m., and I'm still watching Olympics. Tammy and I got home from dinner around eleven, and spent the last three hours speeding through Wednesday's Olympics coverage. Tivo is great for fastforwarding through beach volleyball, and we can see the results of the swimming heats without having to watch every single race. But we haven't fastforwarded through any gymnastics -- we're on the last rotation of the men's individual all-around. The Americans don't seem to be doing well, the Japanese guy had a horrific fall on the rings and has come back to fourth at this point, and there's a Russian guy in third place whose name sounds like a bird call. All in all, it's fantastic.
No sharing results with me for tonight's women's all-around or Michael Phelps' quest for the gold -- we're watching that tomorrow night, and then hopefully will get all caught up. We have to go back through this past week's recordings and watch the diving events, and then fun things like track/field, synchronized swimming, and the gymnastics event finals start this weekend. Yay! But now I need to focus on gymnastics so that I can go to bed, get a few hours' sleep, and do it all again tomorrow!
Thursday, August 14, 2008
ready for action
I just got back to my apartment after a rather exhausting trip to Ann Arbor. I meant to sleep on the plane so that I could watch more Olympics tonight, but I ended up spending the majority of the flight reading a romance novel, which probably wasn't smart -- I have to be at the office at 8am tomorrow, which is not nice.
But, I just watched the 4x100 men's freestyle relay that played Sunday night while I was on my way to the airport -- I obviously knew who won because it was one of the biggest races of the entire Olympics, due to trash-talking by the French and the fact that it contributed to Michael Phelps' amazing golden journey, but the race was still awesome even if I knew what happened. Now I'm waiting for Tammy to get back from a visit to the south bay so that I can watch some gymnastics, but I can't stay up too late.
However, after work tomorrow, I'm dedicating myself solely to Olympics, and it's going to be all Olympics all the time until they're over. YAY.
But, I just watched the 4x100 men's freestyle relay that played Sunday night while I was on my way to the airport -- I obviously knew who won because it was one of the biggest races of the entire Olympics, due to trash-talking by the French and the fact that it contributed to Michael Phelps' amazing golden journey, but the race was still awesome even if I knew what happened. Now I'm waiting for Tammy to get back from a visit to the south bay so that I can watch some gymnastics, but I can't stay up too late.
However, after work tomorrow, I'm dedicating myself solely to Olympics, and it's going to be all Olympics all the time until they're over. YAY.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
just one...more...routine
I lied in my earlier post; once I started watching the women's gymnastics final (because I wanted to see the men's 4x200m freestyle relay, which was in the middle of the gymnastics), I couldn't stop. Now it's 12:30am and I have to wake up in seven hours. But for those of you who are on the west coast, where NBC says the coverage is 'live' when really it's only live in the eastern/central time zones, you're in for a treat -- Bela Karolyi has to be one of the most awesome commentators in existence, perhaps even topping my beloved Dick Button (who has commentated ice skating since the days of radio). The fact that he was able to work in allegations about the Chinese gymnasts being underage in just about every statement was nothing short of amazing.
Now, though, I really am going to bed!
Now, though, I really am going to bed!
nothing cutens up a country like panda bears
I love Mary Carillo -- she's the commentator on NBC who's doing the reports on Chinese culture, and she just did a story on pandas. She also sounds like a man, which makes the story about pandas even better.
Today was good, albeit exhausting; we basically sat in a conference room and brainstormed all day, which is an activity I have devoted far too much of my life to. Afterward, one of my coworkers and I had a drink at the bar on the first floor of the office building while waiting for our other coworkers to get done with their meetings; my strawberry/basil caipiroska was absolutely perfect, and I wish that I could make drinks that delicious. Then, we all went over to the team manager's house for a barbecue. The house was lovely, the barbecue was great, and we had a v. fun evening. I'm glad it ended earlier than last night, though; I hope to sleep a lot tonight so that I can make it through tomorrow, get on the plane, sleep some more, and then catch up on the Olympics coverage that I've missed.
I watched some beach volleyball tonight and I'm going to watch the Michael Phelps race, but then I'm going to go to bed without watching women's gymnastics. I think that I accidentally saw the results of the men's gymnastics; the hotel put the newspaper on my bed, and when I came in I saw a fragment of headline before hastily flipping it over. But I want to watch gymnastics with Tammy when I get home, so I'm going to go to bed before the gymnasts take the floor. And then as soon as I'm back in SF, it's all Olympics all the time until they're over. Yay!!!
Today was good, albeit exhausting; we basically sat in a conference room and brainstormed all day, which is an activity I have devoted far too much of my life to. Afterward, one of my coworkers and I had a drink at the bar on the first floor of the office building while waiting for our other coworkers to get done with their meetings; my strawberry/basil caipiroska was absolutely perfect, and I wish that I could make drinks that delicious. Then, we all went over to the team manager's house for a barbecue. The house was lovely, the barbecue was great, and we had a v. fun evening. I'm glad it ended earlier than last night, though; I hope to sleep a lot tonight so that I can make it through tomorrow, get on the plane, sleep some more, and then catch up on the Olympics coverage that I've missed.
I watched some beach volleyball tonight and I'm going to watch the Michael Phelps race, but then I'm going to go to bed without watching women's gymnastics. I think that I accidentally saw the results of the men's gymnastics; the hotel put the newspaper on my bed, and when I came in I saw a fragment of headline before hastily flipping it over. But I want to watch gymnastics with Tammy when I get home, so I'm going to go to bed before the gymnasts take the floor. And then as soon as I'm back in SF, it's all Olympics all the time until they're over. Yay!!!
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