It's a day past Earth Hour, and photos are cropping up online. The photos of the Detroit and Toronto skylines spoke volumes and took my breath away.
Then, consider the panoramic shot of Montreal during the same period.
I thank city hall and SITQ buildings for their efforts, but overall, I can't help but be disappointed. I believe, sadly, that Josh Freed was right when he stated in the Gazette late last week (or was it this weekend?) that people are just too busy to care.
Of course, I'm not having kids, and the earth will likely still provide for the rest of my natural life, shortened as it may be by pollutants and toxins. So this won't even really affect me and mine. And I have very little faith in the long-term survival of mankind. Still, it's sad that people just don't bother.
Saturday: Learning to love self-imposed darkness.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
the lord of darkness rules once more
16 and 0, baby. 16 and 0. After all these years, I am still a devoted creature of the night.
I did pretty good overall, nailing 6 of 9 predictions, 6 and a half if you count my "dark horse" pick of CM Punk. The only ones I was really off on were Finlay vs. JBL and the WWE championship, and the latter I knew was really a coin toss.
As usual, bravo to the money in the bank partipcipants for new, unsafe ways of using ladders (particularly John Morrison up the tilting ladder.) I would have liked to see what Shelton Benjamin was planning when his ladder folded sideways under him. And welcome back to Matt Hardy; I'm always fond of announced returns.
I forgot to predict the winner of the battle royal vs. Chavo, but those who know me know I would've picked Kane, although I would never have guessed the way it played out. Thanks for stopping by, guys.
I'm guessing Batista has a sore back; powerbombing Umaga, even lopsided, is sheer insanity.
The Flair exit was well-done, overall.
The worst part of Wrestlemania had to be the order. Much as I love the deadman, his match should not have been the main event, simply because of its predictability. I'm assuming Mayweather had the second-to-last written into the contract; IMHO, he should have been on while it was still light out. Triple threat for the WWE championship three from the end? That's preposterous; on the other hand, I can imagine the effect of an Orton victory closing Wrestlemania...
Best Wrestlemania ever? Not by a longshot. Worth $55 on PPV? Every penny. Long live the deadman, at least to 20 and 0...
I did pretty good overall, nailing 6 of 9 predictions, 6 and a half if you count my "dark horse" pick of CM Punk. The only ones I was really off on were Finlay vs. JBL and the WWE championship, and the latter I knew was really a coin toss.
As usual, bravo to the money in the bank partipcipants for new, unsafe ways of using ladders (particularly John Morrison up the tilting ladder.) I would have liked to see what Shelton Benjamin was planning when his ladder folded sideways under him. And welcome back to Matt Hardy; I'm always fond of announced returns.
I forgot to predict the winner of the battle royal vs. Chavo, but those who know me know I would've picked Kane, although I would never have guessed the way it played out. Thanks for stopping by, guys.
I'm guessing Batista has a sore back; powerbombing Umaga, even lopsided, is sheer insanity.
The Flair exit was well-done, overall.
The worst part of Wrestlemania had to be the order. Much as I love the deadman, his match should not have been the main event, simply because of its predictability. I'm assuming Mayweather had the second-to-last written into the contract; IMHO, he should have been on while it was still light out. Triple threat for the WWE championship three from the end? That's preposterous; on the other hand, I can imagine the effect of an Orton victory closing Wrestlemania...
Best Wrestlemania ever? Not by a longshot. Worth $55 on PPV? Every penny. Long live the deadman, at least to 20 and 0...
tonight, they dance
Wrestlemania 24 tonight...here's my take (disclaimer: the following is entirely IMHO):
BunnyMania: Sadly, I don't really care about the outcome. I should, but I don't.
I love Maria's original character, but I think she's really been lost behind Santino. Her "standing up to him" was weak, and let's just not mention her ring skills. For the face time she gets, she's way behind in wrestling ability. Playboy is the only reason we will see her tonight.
Ashley caught my eye early in the Diva Search, and I was pleased to see her take pride in developing her wrestling ability. But between being injury-prone and how she's just underused for seemingly political reasons, there's not much momentum.
Melina was the only diva in recent WWE history who made me sit up and take notice (I mean, with an entrance like that...) I have great hope for this diva, but again, they have so little to work with. You need two to tango, and all the wrestling divas are heels.
Which brings me to Beth Phoenix. Like a smaller, prettier early Chyna. With no competition.
If I have to pick a side, I'll go for "if it wasn't scripted" - Melina and Beth Phoenix.
Finlay vs. JBL: I don't think I ever have or ever will root for the JBL character. (The APA's Bradshaw was a different story, though...) And JBL has been running roughshod over Finaly for weeks. Time for revenge. It's a Belfast Brawl. Finlay, hopefully with an assist from Hornswoggle.
24-man battle royal: Don't watch ECW regularly. Hard to tell. From the picture, the only ones that make sense are the "big men" who have been fighting individually lately (now, don't get me started on the presence of Chuck Palumbo..."I'm not worthy," anyone?) Is there someone in the group that has a story going with Chavo that would make sense? Don't know. So I'll go with my personal favourite from the bunch, one who has been sorely underutilized lately, lost in the recent influx of big guys: Kane.
Batista vs. Umaga: For a while, Smackdown was Raw's "minor league." A few drafts later, that question is now wide open for debate. Batista and Umaga have been going back and forth over the past weeks. Bonus points to Umaga for putting up with Regal calling him "You-man-ga", and for using the mike for the first time last week. But I'll still take the looker: Dave.
Money in the Bank: This is the one can can really go any which way. I'll go with Kennedy, just because Jericho and MVP are holding belts. Dark horse to CM Punk.
Ric Flair vs. Shawn Michaels: Anyone who saw the Hall of Fame ceremony and who thinks Ric Flair stands a chance is a hopeless optimist. Goodbye Naitch, thanks for the memories. HBK.
Money Mayweather vs. Big Show: Here, I'm torn. I'm really rooting for the Big Show (glad to see you back!), but politically, it just doesn't make sense. So we go with the major upset and the heel win with Mayweather.
Edge vs. Undertaker: Not even worth discussing. Sorry, dude, tonight you lose (but you still reek of awesomeness!) All together now, roll your eyes back in your head, and bow down to the almighty streak, and a new World Heavyweight champion. 16-0. Undertaker.
Triple H vs. Randy Orton vs. John Cena: Here's another match whose story can develop credibly any which way. I think Randy's had his run, if only in that he the poorest of the three as a spokesperson for the WWE. I can see Cena recapturing the gold he never really lost, but I think it's been long enough since we bowed down to the king of kings. HHH.
That's where I stand, and time will tell how close I got.
In the meantime, in six words: Jeff Hardy, wish you were here.
BunnyMania: Sadly, I don't really care about the outcome. I should, but I don't.
I love Maria's original character, but I think she's really been lost behind Santino. Her "standing up to him" was weak, and let's just not mention her ring skills. For the face time she gets, she's way behind in wrestling ability. Playboy is the only reason we will see her tonight.
Ashley caught my eye early in the Diva Search, and I was pleased to see her take pride in developing her wrestling ability. But between being injury-prone and how she's just underused for seemingly political reasons, there's not much momentum.
Melina was the only diva in recent WWE history who made me sit up and take notice (I mean, with an entrance like that...) I have great hope for this diva, but again, they have so little to work with. You need two to tango, and all the wrestling divas are heels.
Which brings me to Beth Phoenix. Like a smaller, prettier early Chyna. With no competition.
If I have to pick a side, I'll go for "if it wasn't scripted" - Melina and Beth Phoenix.
Finlay vs. JBL: I don't think I ever have or ever will root for the JBL character. (The APA's Bradshaw was a different story, though...) And JBL has been running roughshod over Finaly for weeks. Time for revenge. It's a Belfast Brawl. Finlay, hopefully with an assist from Hornswoggle.
24-man battle royal: Don't watch ECW regularly. Hard to tell. From the picture, the only ones that make sense are the "big men" who have been fighting individually lately (now, don't get me started on the presence of Chuck Palumbo..."I'm not worthy," anyone?) Is there someone in the group that has a story going with Chavo that would make sense? Don't know. So I'll go with my personal favourite from the bunch, one who has been sorely underutilized lately, lost in the recent influx of big guys: Kane.
Batista vs. Umaga: For a while, Smackdown was Raw's "minor league." A few drafts later, that question is now wide open for debate. Batista and Umaga have been going back and forth over the past weeks. Bonus points to Umaga for putting up with Regal calling him "You-man-ga", and for using the mike for the first time last week. But I'll still take the looker: Dave.
Money in the Bank: This is the one can can really go any which way. I'll go with Kennedy, just because Jericho and MVP are holding belts. Dark horse to CM Punk.
Ric Flair vs. Shawn Michaels: Anyone who saw the Hall of Fame ceremony and who thinks Ric Flair stands a chance is a hopeless optimist. Goodbye Naitch, thanks for the memories. HBK.
Money Mayweather vs. Big Show: Here, I'm torn. I'm really rooting for the Big Show (glad to see you back!), but politically, it just doesn't make sense. So we go with the major upset and the heel win with Mayweather.
Edge vs. Undertaker: Not even worth discussing. Sorry, dude, tonight you lose (but you still reek of awesomeness!) All together now, roll your eyes back in your head, and bow down to the almighty streak, and a new World Heavyweight champion. 16-0. Undertaker.
Triple H vs. Randy Orton vs. John Cena: Here's another match whose story can develop credibly any which way. I think Randy's had his run, if only in that he the poorest of the three as a spokesperson for the WWE. I can see Cena recapturing the gold he never really lost, but I think it's been long enough since we bowed down to the king of kings. HHH.
That's where I stand, and time will tell how close I got.
In the meantime, in six words: Jeff Hardy, wish you were here.
Friday, March 28, 2008
i love nerds...
...the Wonka kind. Any flavour, really, will do, although grape/strawberry reminds me of my childhood and the double-dipped lemonade-wild cherry/apple-watermelon rock.
In other, more serious news, Dell has begun selling Ubuntu-loaded laptops to Canada! W00t! Now THAT is tempting…my fear has always been that I’m a fairly advanced user, but when it comes to tweaking the nuts & bolts that make things happen, I’m a novice. I’ve been looking into buying a laptop for a while now; my budget is fairly restricted, and I’ve heard and read all kinds of horror stories about running Vista on a relatively low-end machine. Running Linux would give me more wiggle room. I will probably look into running it from the CD on my desktop to see what works and what doesn’t.
As for today: Spiders make me itch all over.
In other, more serious news, Dell has begun selling Ubuntu-loaded laptops to Canada! W00t! Now THAT is tempting…my fear has always been that I’m a fairly advanced user, but when it comes to tweaking the nuts & bolts that make things happen, I’m a novice. I’ve been looking into buying a laptop for a while now; my budget is fairly restricted, and I’ve heard and read all kinds of horror stories about running Vista on a relatively low-end machine. Running Linux would give me more wiggle room. I will probably look into running it from the CD on my desktop to see what works and what doesn’t.
As for today: Spiders make me itch all over.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
and there you go...
Donald Trump chooses ruthless and rude Piers Morgan over tenderhearted team player Trace Adkins, based on sheer numbers, on the bottom line.
That he would fail to realize that you cannot hope to lead the team that deserts you is astonishing. I wonder what the employee turnover rate would be under Piers. I’m sure they would tell me I couldn’t cut it in corporate America; I can imagine the smugness, the virtual pity in their voice. My response would no doubt baffle them; I cannot fathom why anyone would want to subject themselves to such a life, particularly for mere money and power.
Voilà, in a nutshell and very much IMHO, what is wrong with the world today.
That he would fail to realize that you cannot hope to lead the team that deserts you is astonishing. I wonder what the employee turnover rate would be under Piers. I’m sure they would tell me I couldn’t cut it in corporate America; I can imagine the smugness, the virtual pity in their voice. My response would no doubt baffle them; I cannot fathom why anyone would want to subject themselves to such a life, particularly for mere money and power.
Voilà, in a nutshell and very much IMHO, what is wrong with the world today.
not quite the cat's pyjamas
I read Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson’s “The Cat Who Came in from the Cold” yesterday. I picked it up because the book I initially wanted to purchase had seemingly disappeared from the shelves in Indigo last night. Having just rediscovered the wonderful “The Fur Person”, I was open to further feline fiction.
Was it the influence of “How Novels Work”, which I just finished, or was it author weakness? Either way, I had difficulty getting really absorbed in the story (and that’s a rare occurrence); I would drift away with Billi in his mango tree, or on the prowl, when suddenly a clumsy description would appear, jarring me back to the words on the page. I wondered whether it was Masson’s strong non-fiction skills interfering. I had read “When Elephants Weep” by the same author, and I had no such complaints. I shared many of the author’s views. This should have been a perfect fit. But he seemed so preoccupied with acquainting readers with aspects of Hindu life, which should have been entirely normal sights and two-foot behaviour to Billi, rather than a revelation. It bordered on condescension, as if I couldn’t be trusted to explore things I was not familiar with on my own, as if I needed to be taken by the hand. They weren't descriptions, they were definitions. Also, the story itself should be opaque; yet in this case, I could catch glimpses of the underlying framework, or of certain stylistic tools.
Maybe I read the book at a moment in my life when I am too absorbed with writing. I wanted to enjoy it, but I came away slightly disappointed. I think I will let it lie for a bit; hopefully, its rediscovery at a later date may redeem it. Besides, I've just realized that there's another, earlier novel, by another author, with the same title. Perhaps that's where the story I want to read is really hidden.
Today: Nineteen inches of glorious widescreen LCD.
Was it the influence of “How Novels Work”, which I just finished, or was it author weakness? Either way, I had difficulty getting really absorbed in the story (and that’s a rare occurrence); I would drift away with Billi in his mango tree, or on the prowl, when suddenly a clumsy description would appear, jarring me back to the words on the page. I wondered whether it was Masson’s strong non-fiction skills interfering. I had read “When Elephants Weep” by the same author, and I had no such complaints. I shared many of the author’s views. This should have been a perfect fit. But he seemed so preoccupied with acquainting readers with aspects of Hindu life, which should have been entirely normal sights and two-foot behaviour to Billi, rather than a revelation. It bordered on condescension, as if I couldn’t be trusted to explore things I was not familiar with on my own, as if I needed to be taken by the hand. They weren't descriptions, they were definitions. Also, the story itself should be opaque; yet in this case, I could catch glimpses of the underlying framework, or of certain stylistic tools.
Maybe I read the book at a moment in my life when I am too absorbed with writing. I wanted to enjoy it, but I came away slightly disappointed. I think I will let it lie for a bit; hopefully, its rediscovery at a later date may redeem it. Besides, I've just realized that there's another, earlier novel, by another author, with the same title. Perhaps that's where the story I want to read is really hidden.
Today: Nineteen inches of glorious widescreen LCD.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
southland tales...what?!?
I watched Southland Tales on DVD last weekend, and I’m still scratching my head over it. Is it, as some have said, one of the worst films ever to premiere at Cannes? I can’t imagine that to be true, but I’m no cinema expert. Did I enjoy it? Yes, although I didn’t entirely understand it.
Some of the images were oddly beautiful, and the messages were consistent throughout. I felt better when Jon Lovitz stated in the bonus features that he himself didn’t understand the entire big picture. I wished I had more time to read/figure out everything that appeared on USIDent screens, but I’m rarely the type to pause or slo/mo a movie – I’m too engrossed in the story. My overall feeling is that the film was very faithful to its ideologies, maybe to the point of becoming an egotistical exercise. It was made by Richard Kelly, for Richard Kelly – and if the audience gets left behind, so be it.
It was supposed to be a nine-part “interactive experience”, it has three graphic novel prequels, and the movie itself is all over the place. Maybe too much has been thrown together to digest properly; maybe that in itself is a reflection on Western mass media culture. I wonder whether the prequel books would be of any help in deciphering Southland Tales. Suffice it to say, I didn’t truly understand the movie, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.
In other news, today's summary: Check. Check. Done. To-do list complete. (And it feels soooooo good!)
None of these six-worders are particularly witty, unlike some of the "lives" that have been cropping up everywhere, but just rereading them gives a fairly effective assessment of what was on my mind and what mood I was in - anxious, silly, thankful...and it is, bar none, the simplest writing exercise I can safely commit to. For now, anyways :-)
Some of the images were oddly beautiful, and the messages were consistent throughout. I felt better when Jon Lovitz stated in the bonus features that he himself didn’t understand the entire big picture. I wished I had more time to read/figure out everything that appeared on USIDent screens, but I’m rarely the type to pause or slo/mo a movie – I’m too engrossed in the story. My overall feeling is that the film was very faithful to its ideologies, maybe to the point of becoming an egotistical exercise. It was made by Richard Kelly, for Richard Kelly – and if the audience gets left behind, so be it.
It was supposed to be a nine-part “interactive experience”, it has three graphic novel prequels, and the movie itself is all over the place. Maybe too much has been thrown together to digest properly; maybe that in itself is a reflection on Western mass media culture. I wonder whether the prequel books would be of any help in deciphering Southland Tales. Suffice it to say, I didn’t truly understand the movie, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.
In other news, today's summary: Check. Check. Done. To-do list complete. (And it feels soooooo good!)
None of these six-worders are particularly witty, unlike some of the "lives" that have been cropping up everywhere, but just rereading them gives a fairly effective assessment of what was on my mind and what mood I was in - anxious, silly, thankful...and it is, bar none, the simplest writing exercise I can safely commit to. For now, anyways :-)
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
miscellaneous
Sometimes I wonder whether my brain has a daily quota. That's the bit I worry about when I think ahead: translating all day, freelancing at night, between homework assignments...and yet I want to NaNoWriMo. If there is such a limit, I guess I'm about to find out.
In the meantime,
Sunday: Pineapple-glaze ham, under charged. Yum.
Monday: Long weekend over. Freelance, homework, presentation.
Tuesday: Presentation over with, vanilla bean latte.
In other news, this Saturday (March 29) is Earth Hour. Hopefully, the weather will cooperate, and I'll be able to take a walk during that time. Help the earth and get some fresh air! I really hope that downtown Montreal businesses will come aboard. I want to see the cross on Mount Royal go out. I want to see Hydro Quebec pull the plug on its corporate headquarters. Heck, I want to see...darkness.
Speaking of darkness, if you ever want to experience a really interesting culinary evening, head over to O Noir restaurant, on Ste-Catherine Street West, near the Faubourg. Eating in utter obscurity is something else; never in my entire life had I smelled red wine like that, and I don't even drink wine! I vaguely remember the food, but it's really secondary to paying attention to every other sense. It's fascinating, and I highly recommend it.
In the meantime,
Sunday: Pineapple-glaze ham, under charged. Yum.
Monday: Long weekend over. Freelance, homework, presentation.
Tuesday: Presentation over with, vanilla bean latte.
In other news, this Saturday (March 29) is Earth Hour. Hopefully, the weather will cooperate, and I'll be able to take a walk during that time. Help the earth and get some fresh air! I really hope that downtown Montreal businesses will come aboard. I want to see the cross on Mount Royal go out. I want to see Hydro Quebec pull the plug on its corporate headquarters. Heck, I want to see...darkness.
Speaking of darkness, if you ever want to experience a really interesting culinary evening, head over to O Noir restaurant, on Ste-Catherine Street West, near the Faubourg. Eating in utter obscurity is something else; never in my entire life had I smelled red wine like that, and I don't even drink wine! I vaguely remember the food, but it's really secondary to paying attention to every other sense. It's fascinating, and I highly recommend it.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
literature vs. blogging
I stumbled upon this article in Montreal's La Presse about the increasing blending between blogging and traditional literature, and the sometimtes difficult relationships between authors who blog, bloggers who write, and their readers.
To say the two cannot mix is silly; just because a lot of blogs are written by amateurs with no real care for the richness of language does not mean all are. (Mind you, I am by no means positioning myself on either side of this divide; I care about writing correctly, but I have no pretension to having any great talent.) I think both sides are staring at each other from afar, wondering whether they are seeing friend or foe.
Of course, my motivation in having a blog is somehwat different from the norm; I'm not writing for an audience, I am writing for myself. In fact, I have only shared the address of this blog with a very select few friends. If readers stumble upon this page and enjoy it, so be it. It is the same approach I have towards NaNoWriMo, in that my point is not publication or recognition - my goal is completion. That is my challenge. So I stand between strict writers and obligate bloggers, and I wonder what the fuss is about.
To say the two cannot mix is silly; just because a lot of blogs are written by amateurs with no real care for the richness of language does not mean all are. (Mind you, I am by no means positioning myself on either side of this divide; I care about writing correctly, but I have no pretension to having any great talent.) I think both sides are staring at each other from afar, wondering whether they are seeing friend or foe.
Of course, my motivation in having a blog is somehwat different from the norm; I'm not writing for an audience, I am writing for myself. In fact, I have only shared the address of this blog with a very select few friends. If readers stumble upon this page and enjoy it, so be it. It is the same approach I have towards NaNoWriMo, in that my point is not publication or recognition - my goal is completion. That is my challenge. So I stand between strict writers and obligate bloggers, and I wonder what the fuss is about.
11 days into the experience
...and I've written just over 1,700 words. What that basically means is that I need to accelerate my writing tenfold by November 1st. Wow. Real life will really have to stop getting in the way.
On to a few exercises:
Friday: Three-day weekend means sleeping in.
Saturday: Dude, were you on the news?
firm / economy / eighteen / fume / luxury
On to a few exercises:
Friday: Three-day weekend means sleeping in.
Saturday: Dude, were you on the news?
firm / economy / eighteen / fume / luxury
He fumed. Mere weeks after she left because he could no longer guarantee the luxury she had grown accustomed to, the economy began to rebound and he secured eighteen firm orders for his latest machine. His wealth was safe, but he was now alone.
one last bit about winter
I warned that some of these texts may well be rants. Here are the first two.
1. Last Saturday's Montreal Gazette had an article on exhausted snow crews ("Snow crews are like punch-drunk prizefighters", by Alan Hustak, Saturday, March 15, 2008, page A8.) I sympathize with these guys, I really do; I'm the type who would hibernate if I could. But one part drove me up the wall.
2. Prior to the last big dump (which was just over a foot of snow), we broke our last remaining shovel. So we headed to our local hardware store (which, for reasons soon to be obvious, will remain nameless). In the parking lot, four guys were busy shovelling around their loading deck. Inside, we were greeted with barbecues, gazebos, lawn chairs and gardening tools.
"I'm sorry, we don't have shovels anymore. The season's over."
- You do realize half your staff is outside shovelling, it's barely March, and they're predicting between one and two feet of the stuff over the weekend???
- That's marketing's decision. Sorry."
Isn't one of the basic tenets of marketing to provide the product at the moment the customer needs it? Or maybe that just makes too much sense. In the meantime, I hope they choke on their weedwhackers.
Fortunately, friends of ours, with apparently more sense than **** (that's how many letters in the name of said hardware store) happily provided us with their spares to get us through the storm.
Now, since I want this blog to mainly be a positive experience, I will kwitmybitchin.
1. Last Saturday's Montreal Gazette had an article on exhausted snow crews ("Snow crews are like punch-drunk prizefighters", by Alan Hustak, Saturday, March 15, 2008, page A8.) I sympathize with these guys, I really do; I'm the type who would hibernate if I could. But one part drove me up the wall.
"Among the biggest frustrations for snow crews are well-intentioned residents who hire private contractors to clear their driveways or re-arrange piles of snow in their neighbourhood.Umm, I really hate to break this to you, Mr. Wadsworth, but if I had a dollar for each time the snowplow dumped a three-foot high snowbank just as I/my boyfriend/my dad/anyone else I know finished shovelling the driveway right before leaving for work, we could all SPEND OUR WINTERS IN JAMAICA!!! Suck it up, at least you're PAID to live with the frustration.
"It's very disheartening," Wadsworth said. "You think you've cleaned the street, you look behind you, and you see snow from a private driveway dumped where you have just finished working.""
2. Prior to the last big dump (which was just over a foot of snow), we broke our last remaining shovel. So we headed to our local hardware store (which, for reasons soon to be obvious, will remain nameless). In the parking lot, four guys were busy shovelling around their loading deck. Inside, we were greeted with barbecues, gazebos, lawn chairs and gardening tools.
"I'm sorry, we don't have shovels anymore. The season's over."
- You do realize half your staff is outside shovelling, it's barely March, and they're predicting between one and two feet of the stuff over the weekend???
- That's marketing's decision. Sorry."
Isn't one of the basic tenets of marketing to provide the product at the moment the customer needs it? Or maybe that just makes too much sense. In the meantime, I hope they choke on their weedwhackers.
Fortunately, friends of ours, with apparently more sense than **** (that's how many letters in the name of said hardware store) happily provided us with their spares to get us through the storm.
Now, since I want this blog to mainly be a positive experience, I will kwitmybitchin.
Friday, March 21, 2008
this week in review
...or rather, I said I would try to keep up the six-word daily summary, and I have fallen behind. So here we go, Tuesday, March 18 through Thursday, March 20, 2008.
Tuesday: I don’t know what to present.
Wednesday: But at least it’s not snow.
Thursday: Caramilk Easter eggs - isn’t technology wonderful?
Tuesday: I don’t know what to present.
Wednesday: But at least it’s not snow.
Thursday: Caramilk Easter eggs - isn’t technology wonderful?
foo! foo! foo!
On Monday night, the Foo Fighters took Montreal’s Bell Centre and its audience of 8,851 by storm. To say I was impressed is to say this winter’s been a little snowy. I had obviously failed to grasp the depth of this band, and I repent. It would appear I wasn’t alone; when Dave Grohl asked the crowd who was seeing the band for the first time, the majority of hands shot up. “Thirteen years, man. Where have you BEEN?” I grovel for forgiveness at the feet of the rock god, and solemnly vow never to miss another one of their shows again.
The Foo Fighters took us on a long, winding ride, through a semi-acoustic set in the round, and through huge anthems that filled every square inch of space in the building, down into your guts and between your toes. After all these years, the spirit of grunge still lives on, in the hair and in the scruffy jeans, but it’s grown into something far more moving. I saw the phoenix rising from the ashes of Nirvana. (I know, I’m a couple of years behind schedule. It happens. Better late than never.) I was hoarse the next day, and I’d do it again in a minute.
As a point of reference, Metallica and Aerosmith were the ones I thought gave the best arena shows; IMHO, both were surpassed on Monday. My friend Peewee places them third, after Pink Floyd and U2. It would appear we weren’t alone in our appreciation; local media referred to the show as “a runaway train”, “a roller-coaster ride”, and my personal favourite, “Hurricane Dave”. Thanks guys.
In six words: Dave Grohl is THE rock god.
The Foo Fighters took us on a long, winding ride, through a semi-acoustic set in the round, and through huge anthems that filled every square inch of space in the building, down into your guts and between your toes. After all these years, the spirit of grunge still lives on, in the hair and in the scruffy jeans, but it’s grown into something far more moving. I saw the phoenix rising from the ashes of Nirvana. (I know, I’m a couple of years behind schedule. It happens. Better late than never.) I was hoarse the next day, and I’d do it again in a minute.
As a point of reference, Metallica and Aerosmith were the ones I thought gave the best arena shows; IMHO, both were surpassed on Monday. My friend Peewee places them third, after Pink Floyd and U2. It would appear we weren’t alone in our appreciation; local media referred to the show as “a runaway train”, “a roller-coaster ride”, and my personal favourite, “Hurricane Dave”. Thanks guys.
In six words: Dave Grohl is THE rock god.
Monday, March 17, 2008
overdosing on white stuff
For the uninitiated, the first time is a rush. Some quickly get addicted. Just as fast, some overdose, the problem being that we don't get to choose the amount. And this year, even the hardier among us have begun to lose their smile over the white stuff.
By the end of this week, spring will have sprung. At least the calendar says so. Mother Nature isn't so sure; she's threatening to precipitate on Wednesday and Thursday - tune in to find out whether it'll be rain or snow. She's been really #$%?&* this year; after years of abuse, who can blame her?
For the first time in my life, I will send my boyfriend to shovel the roof; a spate of roof collapses has made me nervous. I sleep poorly, and as soon as I get up in the morning, I check my old house for any new cracks (I already know the old ones intimately.)
Thus I sum up the unease I've felt all week: Horizontality allows worries to bubble up.
I doubt I'll see daffodils this year, and crocuses are certainly out of the question; I'm hoping to have grass by my birthday. Maybe lillies.
I've often joked that there should be a bylaw that states that snow is restricted to north of St. Jerome any time past January 6. Right now, I just want it all to start going away. I'm sick of the snow, and sick of hearing people gripe about the weather. So I will stop now.
By the end of this week, spring will have sprung. At least the calendar says so. Mother Nature isn't so sure; she's threatening to precipitate on Wednesday and Thursday - tune in to find out whether it'll be rain or snow. She's been really #$%?&* this year; after years of abuse, who can blame her?
For the first time in my life, I will send my boyfriend to shovel the roof; a spate of roof collapses has made me nervous. I sleep poorly, and as soon as I get up in the morning, I check my old house for any new cracks (I already know the old ones intimately.)
Thus I sum up the unease I've felt all week: Horizontality allows worries to bubble up.
I doubt I'll see daffodils this year, and crocuses are certainly out of the question; I'm hoping to have grass by my birthday. Maybe lillies.
I've often joked that there should be a bylaw that states that snow is restricted to north of St. Jerome any time past January 6. Right now, I just want it all to start going away. I'm sick of the snow, and sick of hearing people gripe about the weather. So I will stop now.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
weekend exercises
Between a translation assignment and a little bit of volunteer work, I haven't stopped to create much over the past two days. Mind you, the six-word exercise on my Saturday is also fairly telling. So here we go, two six-word days, and a few random word stories...
Saturday: CSI marathon on Spike. Thank you.
Sunday: I still do not speak Legalese.
1. befall / metal / purvey / wise / physical
2. altercation / conglomerate / march / Prussian blue / liver
3. exponential / ping-pong / square / pert / coup d’état
Saturday: CSI marathon on Spike. Thank you.
Sunday: I still do not speak Legalese.
1. befall / metal / purvey / wise / physical
For years, the company he had built with his bare hands and ferocious capitalistic streak had purveyed the entire Tri-State area in ball bearings. Now, with the rising cost of metals and fuel, combined with the increasing encroachment of Chinese-made bearings, the wise patriarch of Roland Enterprises could only watch as his company’s stock plummeted, a cruel parallel to the ills that had befallen his physical health in the last week.
2. altercation / conglomerate / march / Prussian blue / liver
On her first day as Vice President of Product Development, she marched into the executive boardroom of the fast food conglomerate in her best Prussian-blue pin-striped pant suit. Across the table, the COO glared at her. An altercation was inevitable. Heads would roll. And, like her mentor, she would eventually have his liver with a nice Chianti.
3. exponential / ping-pong / square / pert / coup d’état
The crowd seemed to be growing exponentially in the town square, whipped into a frenzy by the pert blonde with the megaphone. For centuries, the tiny nation had been invaded and oppressed by neighbouring powers. Heck, the Chinese had even stolen the noble discipline of ping-pong and claimed it as their own. But no more; tonight’s coup d’état would set them free.
Friday, March 14, 2008
today's exercises
In six words: Afraid the roof will cave in.
Random words:
sound / nordic / frank / spirit / birthplace
Random words:
sound / nordic / frank / spirit / birthplace
As she stepped off the seaplane, her spirit soared as she surveyed her birthplace. It had been a long journey since her stepfather had proclaimed, in a frank if bourbon-fueled announcement last New Year’s Eve, that she wasn’t biologically-related to the Suzukis. As it were, her Nordic looks and her fondness for reindeer steak were not an astronomically-improbable genetic anomaly, merely the sound reflection of her origins. Rasmussen.
NaNoWriMo, or why I decided to blog
I must admit that there’s a little bit more to this blog than simply replicating my compulsory writing journal. Since I started writing again, and actually since I started really considering translation as a career option, I have had my mind set on one goal, one which I hope to finally be able to achieve in 2008: NaNoWriMo.
NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Wrtiting Month, and participants are invited/challenged to write a 50,000-word novel between November 1 and November 30.
I first discovered this project in mid-November 2006 (d’oh!), and I half-heartedly thought I might give it a go in 2007, although I didn’t really think I had…the right to participate? I was just a wannabe translator, after all. What did I know about novels, apart from as a reader? But in researching a little more, I realized that its founders were just as (in)experienced when they first started NaNoWriMo.
Then, in 2007, I landed a job in marketing/communications, and the entire year was essentially focused on a new product launch…you guessed it, in mid-November. This year, I’ve settled into a translation position, and it looks like clear sailing for November. Yay! Oddly enough, I’ve also had tons of ideas just bubbling up for it. We’re not allowed to write in advance, but we certainly are allowed to plan, and I think that will be my salvation.
Why do I want to try this? I don't climb mountains, I don't freedive, and I don't run marathons. This is the "because it's there" type of thing that resonates with me.
So, to make a long story short (as opposed to NaNoWriMo, where I’ll probably be making a short story long), this blog is meant to help me establish a regular writing routine, so by the time November rolls around, I will be well-set in my ways.
NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Wrtiting Month, and participants are invited/challenged to write a 50,000-word novel between November 1 and November 30.
I first discovered this project in mid-November 2006 (d’oh!), and I half-heartedly thought I might give it a go in 2007, although I didn’t really think I had…the right to participate? I was just a wannabe translator, after all. What did I know about novels, apart from as a reader? But in researching a little more, I realized that its founders were just as (in)experienced when they first started NaNoWriMo.
Then, in 2007, I landed a job in marketing/communications, and the entire year was essentially focused on a new product launch…you guessed it, in mid-November. This year, I’ve settled into a translation position, and it looks like clear sailing for November. Yay! Oddly enough, I’ve also had tons of ideas just bubbling up for it. We’re not allowed to write in advance, but we certainly are allowed to plan, and I think that will be my salvation.
Why do I want to try this? I don't climb mountains, I don't freedive, and I don't run marathons. This is the "because it's there" type of thing that resonates with me.
So, to make a long story short (as opposed to NaNoWriMo, where I’ll probably be making a short story long), this blog is meant to help me establish a regular writing routine, so by the time November rolls around, I will be well-set in my ways.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
why corax calls
It occurred to me that a short explanation might be in order.
Corvus corax is the latin name for the common raven.
In six words - the raven is my totem animal.
I've been told I'm smart, and raucous, and loud, and while I tried to live in a group as a teenager, I truly am more of a loner.
Trust me - it just fits.
Corvus corax is the latin name for the common raven.
In six words - the raven is my totem animal.
I've been told I'm smart, and raucous, and loud, and while I tried to live in a group as a teenager, I truly am more of a loner.
Trust me - it just fits.
in six words
Here's another exercise I will try to engage in regularly.
Legend has it that Ernest Hemingway was asked to write a story in six words - the result "For Sale: baby shoes, never worn."
In 2006, the editors of SMITH magazine invited readers to describe their life in six words. The results have been collected in a book - check out Not Quite What I Was Planning by Rachel Fershleiser.
I'm not a huge storyteller (yet), but here's my day, in two versions.
My work day: Didn't work. Read the $*!?%?& manual.
My day in general: Thought it was Friday. Damn it.
Legend has it that Ernest Hemingway was asked to write a story in six words - the result "For Sale: baby shoes, never worn."
In 2006, the editors of SMITH magazine invited readers to describe their life in six words. The results have been collected in a book - check out Not Quite What I Was Planning by Rachel Fershleiser.
I'm not a huge storyteller (yet), but here's my day, in two versions.
My work day: Didn't work. Read the $*!?%?& manual.
My day in general: Thought it was Friday. Damn it.
word calisthenics
When I was a teenager, I took drawing classes. One of my favourite exercises consisted in having a fellow classmate draw a wild, free scribble on a page in our sketchpad, and transforming it into whatever our mind happened to see.
I wondered what the equivalent would be for a writer. If we were many, we could continue each other's stories, bounce words and ideas off each other, but on my own? Then it occurred to me: simply pick words at random and weave them into whatever story my mind happened to see.
So here are my first two attempts.
1. but / jukebox / reel / motive / tutoyer
(For those unfamiliar with the last selected word - tutoyer - it is the act of using the French familiar “tu” rather than the formal “vous”. It’s similar to the Spanish “tu/usted”. I never would have guessed that tutoyer was in an English dictionary, but there it was, under my finger, in my Merriam-Webster.)
For the second take, I decided to try an online
"random word generator",
which yielded
2. cyclist / cold / bill / coding / capitalist
All words in "b" and "c"...how odd.
I wondered what the equivalent would be for a writer. If we were many, we could continue each other's stories, bounce words and ideas off each other, but on my own? Then it occurred to me: simply pick words at random and weave them into whatever story my mind happened to see.
So here are my first two attempts.
1. but / jukebox / reel / motive / tutoyer
(For those unfamiliar with the last selected word - tutoyer - it is the act of using the French familiar “tu” rather than the formal “vous”. It’s similar to the Spanish “tu/usted”. I never would have guessed that tutoyer was in an English dictionary, but there it was, under my finger, in my Merriam-Webster.)
He ordered a coffee, then slid out the banquette and fished some coins from his front jeans pocket. He peered at his weatherworn hands; it appeared he succeeded in getting all the blood off. His mind reeled, and he steadied himself on the old jukebox in the corner of the diner. Of course, the cops would soon come; they could show means and opportunity – but they would never understand his motive. Even he wasn’t sure he did. “Tu veux-tu aut’ chose?” asked the waitress, in the hoarse voice of someone who’s spent far too many years in smoky dive bars. Goddamn, how he hated being tutoyé’d by complete strangers – how rude.
For the second take, I decided to try an online
"random word generator",
which yielded
2. cyclist / cold / bill / coding / capitalist
All words in "b" and "c"...how odd.
The bitterly cold wind blasted the cyclist in the face; he tucked in his head and kept pedaling through the slushy streets of the city. He dreamt of being a trapeze artist in the Caribbean, but coding for the man at the center of the most evil capitalist empire of the Great White North paid the bills.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
a tree in the forest
Welcome, guest.
This blog is "my" tree in the forest. Will I make a sound? Will anybody hear? Time will tell.
Corax Calls is the public extension of the writing journal I must keep for one of my University classes. But this forum adds a little accountability to the mix; anyone can peer over my shoulder to see whether I've written lately. Procrastination has long been a nemesis, although I am getting better.
As a writing journal, this blog will include freewriting on a variety of topics, probably a few rants, and the occasional photo/other visual art. It's gonna be a trip - my own. Feel free to come along for the ride, and enjoy.
c.c.
This blog is "my" tree in the forest. Will I make a sound? Will anybody hear? Time will tell.
Corax Calls is the public extension of the writing journal I must keep for one of my University classes. But this forum adds a little accountability to the mix; anyone can peer over my shoulder to see whether I've written lately. Procrastination has long been a nemesis, although I am getting better.
As a writing journal, this blog will include freewriting on a variety of topics, probably a few rants, and the occasional photo/other visual art. It's gonna be a trip - my own. Feel free to come along for the ride, and enjoy.
c.c.
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