Word Games

2012-01-18T22:18:00.000-05:00

State of the Writer

I am going to try to be better about updating. Really I am. In the meantime, a rundown:

I finished writing the book. I need to edit the book. I need to do a crapton of research before I can do so, but my goal is to find time before April.
I have a boyfriend. He is awesome.
Life is crazy. Work is moreso, and threatening to get even crazier. Free time is nonexistent, and I still have no money. How does that work?
My health, a year after going on SCD, is awesome. My weight loss levelled off (being the shallow creature that I am, I wish it had chosen a lower levelling off point), but given that I wasn't actually trying to lose weight, and I'm still not, this is still pretty impressive. I have not had a prescription since going on the diet.
I have awesome friends.

I am aiming to make Thursday nights update nights. We will see how well I stick to this resolution.

2010-04-17T00:09:00.000-04:00

On Writing, and What Not To Do

It's just occurred to me that this is the closest thing i have to a "writing" icon. I really need to do something about this....

I had an interesting conversation with a friend at work today who wants to start publishing his writing. Amongst other things, we deked off at one point into the subject of self-publishing, and why people do it. Now, there are definitely reasons for self-publishing. If I ever wanted to produce memoirs of my grandmother's garden, for example, I would probably self-publish it because only my family would ever want to read it. But I actually want people who don't know me to read my books. So I'm going the route of a traditional publisher.

I've written two complete books and two half-novels I abandoned back in high school because they read like I wrote them in high school. I'm currently working on the third book. It needs some work, but I think I might actually have it this time.

Setting the first two aside was hard. They're not forgotten, but they're also not good enough right now. And, especially given certain things observed at a recent convention, this is the problem a large number of self-published authors run into. Rather than put things aside when they're not good enough, or an editor tells them it's not good enough, they decided to publish it anyway.

Fair enough, that's their decision. And some people handle it fairly well. But some people... well, appear to lose their minds. They start doing things, and putting these things on their professional authorial website, that absolutely boggle the mind. And not in a good way.

It's not something you see only in writers. I've seen it in the bellydance community, and American Idol has made it plainly apparent when it comes to singing. Sometimes people can't face the fact that they're not instantly fantastic at whatever they choose to do, and retreat into a completely different reality.

I'm very glad that I have people around me who will stop me from ever doing that. Though if I ever self-publish and go crazy, I am totally changing my name to Gryphonia Sparklepants.

2010-04-04T01:09:00.001-04:00

A New Era

I have only one thing to say.

That was frelling AWESOME!!!!!!

2010-03-24T16:26:00.003-04:00

Etsy Roundup

So here is the stuff I currently have listed on Etsy. If I've coded things right, clicking on the picture should take you to the appropriate page:

2010-03-22T20:12:00.002-04:00

Wups

Yes, I have been absolutely awful about updating my journal. But a lot has happened in the last year, including moving back to Canada, losing my Grandmother, restarting my job, and trying to reboot my half of our jewellery business. To that end, here are some links:

The new, improved Sarah Jane Elliott.com
My Etsy Store!
Sarah's Sparkly Stuff on facebook

And links to two videos: my grandmother's memorial video, and the video I made of everything I did overseas when I was NOT teaching.

2009-04-19T11:26:00.000-04:00

Back from Italy

There will be a full trip report eventually -- probably next weekend. But this weekend has been spent annotating and posting the 795 shots and videos I got from the 900 I came home with. You can see the whole thing in the Chris and Sarah's Excellent Italian Adventure set, or if you don't feel like dealing with all 795 at once, you can enter through the gateways of Milan, Florence, Naples (includes Pompeii and Herculaneum, or Rome.

That was the first real travelling adventure I have had (I don't really count moving here, as that's a work thing), and it's the most fun I have ever had in my life. I am REALLY not looking forward to school tomorrow.

2009-03-23T11:07:00.001-04:00

Weekend Away

My latest batch of captioned (and heavily geek-referenced) photos start here, but some of the highlights of the weekend in Dover / Tower of London are:

St. James's Church. It was shelled by France during the war and they left the remaining walls as a memorial. It was quite breathtaking and very good for my inexplicable fascination with doorways. This is my new desktop. I call it "Gateway to Narnia".

Secret Tunnel! No seriously, there are a network of tunnels under the castle that were used as secret wartime headquarters and only taken off the secret list in 1984. You can see part of them here.

The white cliffs, which are certainly white, and certainly cliffs. Shira gives some perspective. We climbed all the way up, wandered around, climbed all the way down, then back up the other side to get to...

"Dover Castle!"
"Dover Castle!"
"It's only a model."
"Shh!"

Yes, it is very much spring here. This is a hill at the Tower of London.

2009-02-21T17:40:00.001-05:00

New House Tour

At long last, I have media of the new house. We got ridiculously domestic about it, but we're really happy with how it ended up. If you want detailed notes on the photos, the set starts here.

Here is the house tour, in order. The videos are chopped into segments of less than 90 seconds so that I could upload them to flickr (Youtube is too searchable by my students).

For the video-impaired, here are the photos:

Yes, spring has come to England. These are in the garden across the street. It was an absolutely gorgeous morning.

This is part of our living room, featuring giant couch #1, as well as the Spider plant we inherited, part of my jewellery making materials, and in the magazine stand, the corner of the photo album Tami gave me for Christmas.

The other part of the living room, featuring the second giant couch with my single duvet in the corner for when it gets cold, the Argentinian flag, the fireplace with decorative rocks, and the big mantle mirror.

The remainder of our living room including working table, both computers (since, as you can see by the modem on the floor, the Virgin guy forgot our router), TV, and the welcome card Gisela's boyfriend mailed me.

On the immediate right is Gisela's room, the wooden door is the bathroom, and you can just see my room at the end of the hall.

The bathtub is massively deep. What you can't see in this photo is the heated rail on the radiator just across from the bathtub, which will burn you in extremely awkward places if you bend over the wrong way.

The kitchen has both a washer (no dryer) and a dishwasher. Heaven!

I am massively in love with my bed. For those who I know care about such things, some of the titles on the shelf next to it are: Beauty, the Blue Sword, Ransom My Heart, Forever Princess, Chalice, The Graveyard Book, Getting the Buggers to Behave, Getting the Buggers into Science, Lyra's Oxford, Mansfield Park, and Cross Stitch (known in Canada by the more sensible title of "Outlander"). Also featured is my TARDIS USB hub, desk lamp, and the speakers for my computer, which is in the living room. The thing hanging from the door on the right is a kitty handbag I got at Spitalfield's. The throw pillows on the bed have silver sequins in floral patterns.

My room from the other side, featuring the wardrobe Gisela lent me, since she now has a massive one of her own.

2009-02-14T13:37:00.000-05:00

Got Feet?

Specifically, UK size 6, US size 7 feet? In need of running shoes that are half a size too small for me, but are nonetheless kick-ass waterproof shoes?

E-mail me. We'll talk.

2009-02-02T05:20:00.002-05:00

It's Like Christmas...

Last night I was so excited I couldn't sleep. Seriously, I woke up at 3 and at 4:30. But this morning, we got the best present of all.

Yes, this is a Snow Day in England.

2009-01-27T17:14:00.000-05:00

God, I love my sibling

Look what he made for me.

2009-01-24T20:52:00.002-05:00

London Adventure

It's been a busy couple of days. Last night the teachers and their various and sundry housemates went to a Mexican restaurant for fajitas and margaritas, and today Shira and I had another adventure in London, which turned out to be vastly different than our original plan, but still quite enjoyable.

The weather was absolutely stunning, and I managed to grab my first actual shot of Hadleigh Castle as we passed it on the train.

This would turn out to be the last time anything went according to plan today.

I got to Fenchurch Street in London and walked to Tower Hill to get on the tube... only to discover the station closed. There is no service today. But they left a handy leaflet titled "continuing your journey from Tower Hill", which pointed out that Aldgate was only a 5 minute walk away. So I got there... to discover them closing the gates, because not only were District and Circle not running, but they'd closed Hammersmith & City and Metropolitan in this area as well. But not to worry, said the staff member locking the gate. Liverpool Street was only a 5 minute walk away.

So I got myself to Liverpool Street (mostly by aiming for the Gherkin -- my dekes in London are where the SatNav on my phone proves it's worth the price I pay for it), and discover... yup, you guessed it. The platform in the direction I want to go is closed. But then, a whispered conversation amongst staff members, and I'm told that if I want to go to Moorgate, I can go up these stairs, through this locked gate, to Platform two. So I got myself there, only to hear an announcement ten minutes later that the next train wouldn't be for another ten minutes (Moorgate is a 5 minute walk from Liverpool).

Realizing by this time that the Universe has wrapped me up in another farce, I did manage to discover that by taking the central line, I could get myself back on track on the Northern line.

The plan for today was to meet at Borough Market and then go see Billy Elliot in the evening. But today also happened to be Tribalondon, and I couldn't NOT stop in to check out the Souk. So I did, and am proud to announce that I now own the beginnings of a tribal performance outfit.

Unfortunately, though I was only just a little bit late to meet Shira at that point, I ran into my tribe. Who were about to perform in fifteen minutes. So of course, I couldn't leave without watching them perform, which set me way off schedule.

I rushed out the door after they left the stage, and discovered a text from Shira saying she had bad news. What was it? She'd ordered the Billy Elliot tickets for the wrong day.

Now, I was at the point where I could have let that really piss me off. Or I could have run with it and let the day take us where it would, and enjoy the ride as much as possible. I went with the latter, and was greatly rewarded.

I met Shira at Borough Market, which is awesome. Basically, any food you could possibly imagine can be found there. I must go back at an earlier time when it's less crowded so that I can try the ostrich burger. We did manage to pick up a few things before it closed (tiny mince pies, yay!), and headed off to Leicester Square, where we endeavoured to find half-price tickets to a show we both wanted to see.

After a quick stop at a pub to refuel, we made our way through the nifty night-time London Streets (and sparkly Swarovski windows) to the Palladium.

As it turned out, we were one row from the back of the second balcony. Our seats were about as high as you can possibly get. But you could still see something, and we discovered that for 50p you could rent a pair of opera glasses stuck to the back of the seat in front of you.

It was kind of funny, actually, seeing how the architecture of the theatre reflected the class system of the time in which it was built. Dress circle and first balcony went in the fancy entrance, but upper circle had a separate door. We climbed a plain, unadorned staircase to a cramped, unadorned foyer with little to no contact with the persons who could afford the good seats.

The show was lovely, the kids were adorable, and Maria was utterly charming. But Captain von Trapp was a bit of a disappointment. He was pitchy and off, and when he did sing, he reminded me of Jennifer Coolidge doing that voice she used for Heidi in Igor.

But, overall, despite the complete derailment of our plans, I had a really, really great time today. I'm glad I've decided to live in England, rather than just teach in it.

2009-01-20T14:10:00.000-05:00

Being Erica, Being Away

I've bought myself a season pass of Being Erica on iTunes, which means it downloads straight to my computer whenever a new episode airs. I just finished watching this latest one, and I'm filled with a sense of profound well-being.

Not because of the storyline or characters. They're well enough, but nothing I've seen so far feels any different than anything that's already been done before. No, what I'm watching the series for is Toronto Porn.

I love that the series is filmed in Toronto, which is actually playing itself for a change. And it's not just sitting there casually being Toronto in the background. It's out there jumping up and down and singing "Look at me! It's me, Toronto! Aren't I pretty? PAY ATTENTION TO ME!"

And I can't get enough of it. I miss home, and there it is, being all vibrant, and shiny. Look, Eaton Centre! Look, Yorkville! Look, Distillery! And it's twinkly! I love it, and while I'm sitting over here on the other side of the Atlantic missing it, at least I can get a new visual hit of it every Tuesday night.

On the other hand (or side of the ocean), here's what I did last weekend:

2008-11-26T13:16:00.000-05:00

The Amazing Afterthought Girl

So I've had the sneaking suspicion since I arrived that I'm pretty much an afterthought at the school, and nobody really knows who I am or what I do.

Okay, first it was the being sold on the job by being promised my own room, only to find out that I'm the 8th teacher in a 7-lab school, so I'm living out of a suitcase for a year. Fair enough, they did rearrange things so I wasn't tearing around between blocks all day.

Then there was the "surprise! You're teaching maths!" thing. Again without really being told what the heck is going on. Got kind of thrown into the deep end on that one, left all my math resources at home. Fair enough, I'm dealing.

Then I got to the form tutor meeting only to be told eventually that I don't have a form. Probably because I don't have my own room. Not really complaining on that one, as it gives me an extra 30 minutes every day (eaten up by the room switches usually, so it all balances out).

Then there was pupil interview day, where I was sent to multiple trainings only to find out the day before that I didn't have any interviews and was in fact not actually scheduled to be anywhere. Again, fair enough. I got a lot of work done that day.

We had the supervisor for the Essex board in observing maths today. I was doing the last lesson of a 5-hour planning session, had the kids actually working in groups for the first time all year, had them actually interested in the answers, had them LISTENING to each others' answers, and all in all had the most successful class all year.

She told the department head that none of the teachers put any effort into the classes.

And then I got my staff ID badge today.

Yeah.

2008-11-15T15:18:00.001-05:00

Open School

So last month (I know, I know, shut up) was Open School, and I finally managed to get photos of the hallowed halls where I ~~am tortured~~ teach five days a week.

It's actually quite telling that on Friday, one of the girls in my year ten class got exasperated and yelled out the following:

"You know, I feel really sorry for Miss. She came all this way from Canada to teach us, and when she gets here, she gets us. No offense to you, Miss, but we are pretty horrible."

At least they can recognize the problem, anyway. I also had one of my year 8 girls try to throw me by asking me "Miss, how come you're still single?" (my impression is that the average marital age on Canvey is seventeen), but when I replied without missing a beat "because I really don't have time to train a boy right now," the girls were suitably impressed.

Anyway.

My day begins before dawn. I wake up at quarter to six, grab my things, and walk down the street, across a bridge, past the library, to a corner out front of the entrance to the Ford Dealership car park. This is where I wait for Andy, another science teacher, to pick me up. This is usually what it looks like:

Only now I don't really see dawn until somewhere around Rayleigh. This photo, incidentally, is titled "Sunrise on Leigh... it's almost a Proclaimers song". My Dad is thus far the only one who gets it.

Arriving at the school, we usually take the back way in to the library block (so called because it houses the library), where my 5 classrooms are located. This is a pleasant change from the beginning of the year, when they were six classrooms and scattered between the library block and the admin block (to the right of this photo).

To the right of the library block is the admin block (which houses the staff room and the other half of the science department).

One of the rooms I used to teach in was Sean's in the admin block, before they realized that having me run between blocks during classes was soon going to reduce me to a weeping, dribbling mess. For Open School (the day when we try to convince parents to send their children to us instead of the other school on the Island), it was the Biology Room.

We actually have some cool things that I nearly never see. Such as the vivisected rabbit, which both fascinated and horrified the students.

The teacher in pink is Tania, the other Canadian in the department. Glenn the lab tech is next to her, and the one with the red hair is Kim, my buddy teacher and one of the few reasons I have not yet gone completely insane.

Kim knows what a biology geek I am, so even though I was assigned to the Physics room for the day, it became my job to cut open the sheep's heart at the beginning of the day. Oddly enough, I'm the only person in the department who views dissecting a major complex organ with glee. Go figure.

The room that I usually teach in, Kim's room, was reorganized from its usual convenient rows of desks into the Chemistry Room. Assisting in there were Rob and Francis, our two Australian teachers (yes, there are four new Overseas Trained Teachers in the department this year. Apparently, turnover in the department is high. Probably because only the very strong of heart survive when they keep sticking the new teachers with the bottom sets).

Francis's room is where I teach my mid set 7s maths and science. It's a challenge. His is also one of the few touch screens you can't draw on with a light pen, which means I have to rejig the slides I use with my Set 1 7s before every set 3 class. Fortunately, the top set 7s let me work out the snags so that things run fairly smoothly with the mid-set.

I teach my year 8s in Andy's room, which was set up as the Physics room (which, not coincidentally, is what I'm actually teaching). It was fairly dull, though I did get to play with the Van de Graaff generator.

Coming home, we just managed to catch a rainbow. Yes, it rains a lot here, but there are also a lot more rainbows than I'm used to seeing at home. It's hard to see, but the second photo actually shows a triple rainbow -- the first two are stacked one on top of the other (the really bright band), and the third is off to the side about 2/3 the way between the first rainbow and the rearview.

Then I was dropped off at Kent Elms corner to hike back over my bridge to get home. The bridge averts the certainty of death that would result from attempting to cross the A127, but going up and down those spiral stairs when you're carrying a heavy backpack, laptop, and box of books for marking can be a real pain. Especially in the dark when it's raining.

And that, in a nutshell, is my school life.

2008-11-14T16:50:00.000-05:00

A day in London

Okay, it's been a long time coming, but I'm very busy all the time now. So here is my long overdue report on my trip into London with Shira to do very touristy things (which is photoblogged beginning here).

The day began with my first real English fog (and thus far the heaviest, as well). Standing on the very empty train platform in Leigh (apparently nobody goes to London on the weekend, so it's £11 to buy a return ticket including all day travel on the tube) I couldn't see much past the end of the station (hence my lack of pictures of Hadleigh Castle).

Since it was to be a very touristy day, we set our sights on the London Eye. We'd long realized that we were going to have to go on it at some point. Shira wasn't happy about the haze, but I was content to go "I'm in London!" and have done with it.

Before the Eye, however, we decided to go on the Thames River cruise. It was appropriately cheesy (our tour guide definitely had hints of "yes, I enjoy my job, but this is the seventeenth time today I have given the same damn tour" about him), but we did get to see cool stuff.

And speaking of bridges, and , here's #1:

...#2

...#3

and for #4, I have yet to find a pub in London to rival this one right here in Leigh:

Of course, we had to go up the London Eye after the river tour. Despite the haze, I was very taken with the view. Damn, did it get hot in that pod though. We had to take turns standing next to the air conditioner.

Also somewhat unsettling is the fact that the Eye doesn't actually stop moving. You have to jump on and off the cars as they pass through the loading area. Fortunately, the staff are very efficient, and the thing moves slowly enough that they have time to sweep the cars with bomb detectors between unloading and loading.

After disembarking the Eye, we headed toward the London Aquarium (housed in the same building as the Dali Exhibit).

It's certainly no seaworld, but it did serve as home to some of our Pixar friends. And a very curious stingray.

And that was our tour of London. Next up: Open day at school post, in which one of my students is incredibly perceptive and I give some others something to think about.

2008-09-26T17:29:00.000-04:00

In a Pig's Eye

It's been one of those days. I got extremely frustrated with my Year 9s because we spent yet another period with them not listening to a word I say, and complaining they were bored. They just don't seem to get that they can't do the fun stuff without demonstrating some responsibility, and not going insane every time I try something new, and that as fun as it would be, Science can't be all blowing things up and making crystals without stopping to explain why.

And after mailing my receipts to my limited company this morning (which all must be originals), I got to the train station only to realize that I had retained my receipt and mailed my monthly rail pass to Glasgow.

So. One of those days.

I decided to walk to Leigh Broadway before getting on the bus, pausing to take a photo of the snails in the retaining wall on the hillside. The snails here are huge, and the cracks in the wall were crammed full of the things.

But it was on the way home that things really took a turn to the surreal. I was walking past the butcher's, and since my Year 8s have been having trouble grasping how the eye works, something prompted me to stop in.

"Hi," I said. "I'm trying to teach my Year 8s how an eye works. You wouldn't happen to have any, would you?"

The butcher said nothing, just stared at me. Then turned and walked without a word into his back room.

Huh. I thought. It's not THAT strange a question, is it?

I was about to turn around and leave when he came back again, carrying a pig's head by one ear. He plonked it down on the counter, pulled this massive knife out of somewhere, and in seconds, he'd popped this into a bag, sealed it with a flourish, and handed it to me with a grin, free of charge.

I love this town.

So of course, being a giant geek (and fearing the deflation of the eye in my fridge over the weekend, and the wrath of my landlady upon opening the fridge and seeing it staring back at her), I opted to dissect the eye and videotape it.

Here is the result.

And as a bonus, I discovered that the first version of the house tour (in which I lock myself in, having inadvertently set the deadbolt when I came in the door), before I started filming it in 90 second chunks so it would fit on flickr, did in fact upload to youtube.

So here it is.

2008-09-20T18:32:00.001-04:00

Adventure Island

Today, since my original plans for the weekend had been cancelled, I decided it was time for an adventure. It started off in Rayleigh (up on the photostream), but quickly moved to Southend, as I couldn't find anything I needed in Rayleigh. So eventually I ended up on Southend High Street, which was much busier that it had been two weeks earlier, when I was lost and alone.

I actually had a great time just wandering. I love that next to the Museum and Discovery Centre appears to be a pit for containing children.

I also finally managed to get to a Barclays when it was open, and discovered the reason why nobody seems to know where my chip and PIN card is, even though everyone else who signed up for an account at the same time as I did received theirs ages ago, is because mine was never ordered. The employee was profusely apologetic, and promised I will have it within 5 working days.

Once I have that, I can get a new phone. My Superphone is fine for calling Canada, but it actually expensive for calling in England. But now that I also have a nifty new headset mic, I can use Skype for calling Canada (it's cheaper than the Superphone), my pay-as-you go Superphone if I need to call Canada away from the computer (at 2p/minute), and my new phone for unlimited texting and 600 minutes/month in England, plus built-in GPS in the phone so that I can figure out where the hell I am on the multiple occasions on which I am lost. Woot!

One of the most random things to happen today was reaching the end of High Street and seeing a familiar face. Sort of.

Yes, that is the real Herbie used in the original movies. This is the race car, so it has the porsche engine. Apparently there was a car show going on.

One of the biggest attractions in Southend is Adventure Island, which is something like a low-budget version of Canada's Wonderland. Or maybe Centreville.

Also adding to the day's victories was my long-awaited finding of a Thornton's.

Not quite Green and Black's, but still really good (and there are Green and Blacks here. Including cookies). I also found a store I love, Past Times, where I bought two cards that I strongly suspect will end up on my wall instead.

I like that, of all the standards of beauty, this is the only one I've ever felt actually looked like me. Overbites and double chins and everything.

So all in all, I ended up having a pretty good day.

2008-09-14T11:04:00.000-04:00

Things to do in Leigh

Living in a small town by the sea, there isn't much of a social scene (one of the things I miss most about Toronto is being able to leave the house at 10 p.m. and do... well, anything). But they are very proud of their annual Regatta.

That's Old Leigh as seen from above. When the tide is out, the boats just kind of flop over on the mudflats until it comes back in. Later in the day, Tania commented "It's not much of a regatta, is it? Where's all the rowing?", to which Kim replied, "well the tide's out, isn't it?"

They set up a few rides for the kids, which didn't see much action as the day went on. People were more interested in the food and the pubs. Can't say as I much blame them, though.

I still can't get over the name of this pub. I'm sure that it means something else. But I still find it pretty damn funny.

This gives a bit of a sense of what Old Leigh is really like. A lot of really old buildings and cobbled streets. It's quite charming, though.

Karina and I know what it's like to go to a venue to sell jewellery only to come away at the end of the day without a sale. So when I saw this one guy selling "natural resin" jewellery, complaining to someone on his phone about how the day was such a waste because nobody bought anything, I had to buy something. Fortunately, he made something I liked.

So that's life in Leigh-on-Sea. A little different from Toronto (for one, if you want to see a movie, you have to go to Southend). But still pretty.

For a more visual accounting of my adventures on this side of the pond, my England set is now up and running with commentary on Flickr.

2008-08-28T18:27:00.000-04:00

Welcome to Diagon Alley

On Monday, Ming and I decided that rather than exploring a building a la the British Museum, we would walk around doing touristy things (though we never did make it to the Notting Hill Festival -- given that the news this morning was reporting that it ended in violence, that's probably not a bad thing).

We decided that one of the most touristy things we could do was eschew the tube for a double-decker bus. Unfortunately, the ones you see in movies are very rare thus far, having been replaced with new, modern, closed-topped ones (equipped with station announcements and CCTV).

First stop on our tour was Hyde Park. We didn't explore anything but the corner of it, but I fell head over heels in love with the Queen Mother gates. Seriously, I totally want these gates.

Leaving Hyde Park, we made our way to:

Buckingham Palace. The Queen was in residence, but not much was going on other than the guards out front changing positions every so often. They were also busy taking down the Visa 2011 festival (whatever that was). So we left and headed to St. James park.

There are a lot of waterfowl in St. James's park, and the areas around the pond are set aside exclusively for their use. The neat thing about them is how many of them are different species than we have in Canada. My favourite are the coots -- the black ones with the white faces and the ridiculously oversized flattened white feet. They make a fantastic noise, too.

The gardens are also lovely, but one of the things that struck me most was the hillside full of crocuses we found, which were apparently common enough that people were trampling all over them. Crocuses. In August.

From the bridge at St. James's park, we could see the London Eye. I fully intend of riding it at some point, but you have to call in advance for tickets, so I'm waiting for a day when I know I'll have a lot of time.

My favourite thing about this picture is that it shows a building that doesn't exist. It's an effect created by the overlapping of several different buildings, which combine in just such a way to create some kind of fairytale castle. There's a story in there somewhere.

At the end of St. James's park is the Horse Guard, and yes, they do have people stationed around the grounds whose job it is to look stoic and not move as tourist take embarrassing photos with them. Every single one of them stationed around the grounds looked like a baby -- they couldn't have been any older than 18. I was particularly amused by the two above, stationed on either side of the gate -- the guy was doing a good job being stoic despite his horses' clear impatience with standing still all day. The girl, on the other hand, couldn't keep this smug "yeah, you're touching my horse" look off her face.

From there, we had no idea where we wanted to go, and decided it would be fun to get lost.

We popped in to the National Gallery (you can do that because, like other museums, it's free), where I had another one of those "Oh, I get it" moments looking at a DaVinci painting. You can see them in photos and prints. Does nothing to convey the magic inherent in his work, especially when comparing it to other artists hung around the painting. There's something about the light, the form, and the expressions that honestly does transcend the ordinary to become truly spectacular, and you can only see it when you're looking at the real thing.

From the steps of the National Gallery, we took a photo of Trafalgar Square, when I noticed something peeking between the buildings and the monument.

Yup, really starting to feel like I'm in England now.

From there, we started our serious wandering. It's really hard to convey just how different the streets are in London, because in addition to having no straight lines and intersecting at various bizarre angles, the buildings are high, crammed, close together, and speaking of an age that we just don't have. They're also damned near impossible to navigate, which led to our very scientific system of "okay, let's go that way now" ambulation.

So of course, we managed to find a Timmies. Only not quite a Timmies -- you serve your own coffee out of a machine, and check out the maple dip doughnuts. The doughnut is more cakey than a regular honey dip, the glaze is actual maple glaze instead of that hard icing, and they put pecans on it. And did you know that Tim Hortons is Canada's favourite restaurant?

The conversation around this street went "wait, are we in Chinatown?" *turn corner and see this street* "Oh, I guess we are."

We found Picadilly Circus.

We also found the West End.

My favourite street hands-down was Neal's Yard. You got to it by passing through this painted tunnel, down an alleyway, and ended up in this courtyard of shops and restaurants. It was passing though all these streets, and this one in particular, that gave us another OIC ("oh, I see") moments -- Diagon Alley makes SO much more sense when you've been to Neal's Yard.

2008-08-28T18:25:00.000-04:00

The British Museum

Ming and I decided that we should go do touristy things, and made our first stop the British Museum (because I had mistakenly believed someone at the ROM who mentioned there was a Tutankhamun exhibit there).

We got to the tube and bought our Oyster cards. These are hard to describe, even when you have all the literature telling you what they are. Basically, they're like a cash card you can top up, to which you can also add things like a daily pass or a monthly pass. You swipe them as you get on and off the tube, and the according amount is taken off your card (this happens with weekly and monthly passess too if you go outside the zones for which you bought your pass).

These are the escalators leading from the tube station to the street. You pass by a couple of old blast doors before you reach these escalators. One of the many subtle reminders that London is a city with a history that Toronto simply doesn't have.

Of course, we got lost on the way there and ended up walking in a circle around the museum. It's easy enough to do when none of the streets are straight. We're very spoiled by Toronto's grid system -- if you look up a map of London, you'll see just how easy it is to go down one street and have no idea where you are. But then, you end up discovering cool things like the street above, which struck us as another one of those "history" moments. Also, some of the streets are really frelling narrow.

The neat thing about museums in Britain is that they are all free, and simply have a donation box asking you to help keep them "free to the world since 1753". They are also FULL of people. ROM, take note.

This is the courtyard at the centre of the British Museum, which they recently covered with that impressive skylight. The round part at the centre houses the shop, a temporary exhibition room, a gourmet restaurant, and the reading room. Perhaps most importantly, this modern editionworks with the existing architecture instead of trying to overwhelm it, and is nearly invisible from the street, so comes as a surprise when you walk into the bright, open space.

The sense of scale here is something the ROM just doesn't have. For all its size, it's welcoming (the use of colour and the warmth of the stone floors add a lot to that, I think), and the galleries do have some cohesion and story to them. I just find it odd that the ROM professes to want to be a "world class" museum, yet does the opposite of what this one does.

The Parthenon Galleries were pretty spectacular. The pictures don't really do justice to how much detail, and how lifelike, these things are. Plus, it's just cool that there are pieces of the Parthenon.

It was actually kind of sad how many of this series of blocks (all depicting this fight) were labelled something like "his head can be found in Copenhagen." I wish it could all just be together in one place.

There were other bits of Greek antiquity in addition to the Parthenon. All were equally impressive. Most lacked heads. And, in the cases of the male figures, penises. Given the sheer volume of "his head was taken by so-and-so in 1852" texts on the statues, I find myself doubting that every instance of statue castration was accidental.

I bet there's a Master's Thesis on the topic floating around out there somewhere.

This is one of my favourite pieces from the Egyptian Afterrlife collection. It's a page from the Book of the Dead, and this part of it shows the deceased being led to his judging by Anubis. I just find something very touching about it. Anubis isn't holding the soul by the wrist or shoulder or any way that could be taken as harsh or commanding. If anything, I find that it would be very reassuring to know that when you reach the other side, there would be someone there to hold your hand. Even if he does feed your heart to The Devourer of Souls if you've been bad.

Having so recently been to the dentist, this collection of Egyptian skulls showing how big of a problem tooth decay was in Ancient Egypt made me feel a bit better about having my cavities filled. Note the abscesses on many of the teeth.

It was also interesting to see how many of the Egyptian customs the Romans adopted for their own. I already knew about the coopting of the Greek pantheon to become Jupiter, Juno, and the others, but this Roman-era mummy mask was a reminder that they did it with other cultures as well.

On leaving the museum, we were bemused to discover that London has pay phones, pay internet, and also pay toilets. It was occupied, or we would have used it.

Okay, you know how in Torchwood they're always discovering things through the CCTV that just happened to capture whatever it was they're looking for? I get it now. The sign above was for our hostel, but signs like it are everywhere, and the big boomy voice-of-God announcement came on the PA and yelled at me for taking that picture of the camera. Apparently flash photography is not permitted in the Underground. It's actually a little Orwellian.

There have been a number of moments of "oh, I GET it now" since I've been here. More to follow...

2008-08-26T17:35:00.001-04:00

Home Sweet Home...

My base of operations (at least so far) in London in St. Christopher's Inn, conveniently located above Bellushi's Bar. You book in at the bar, and if the bartender is feeling magnanimous and nobody's drinking, he may or may not help you with your bags.

The above is a view from my bed. As you can see, the rooms are arranged so that the maximum possible amount of floorspace is used. The mattresses are extremely uncomfortable and the pillow is thin enough to be practically nonexistent, and the duvet is warm enough that I keep kicking it off in the night because I wake up drenched. I've worked out an arrangement that involves sleeping on the duvet, covering myself with the sarongs and scarves I've packed (and occasionally my coat), and stuffing the pillow with my towel (this only works on nights when I haven't showered).

The showers and toilets are kinda scary. The showers only work if you push a button (like on the sinks at the ROM), and the stream lasts about as long, so you have to keep pushing the button every thirty seconds to keep the water flowing. Which is a good thing because, as it turns out, the drains are mostly clogged, so it's a race to see if you can finish your shower before you overflow the 1" lip of the cubicle.

I have already mentioned the bajillion flights of stairs. As it turns out, we have to climb 89 steps to get to our room. I have actually lost weight. Fortunately, waiting at the bottom of the steps is Skinny Mirror. The above is a photo of me and Ming in Skinny Mirror. It is warped just enough to make it the most flattering mirror in the history of existence -- the thing takes off, like, ten pounds at least. I totally want it for my bedroom.

St. Chris's is not all bad -- it turns out the adapter I bought won't fit my plug, but the rooms have a nightlight and a North American outlet adapter by each bed, so I can plug in my laptop to write this blog. The WiFi in the bar is broken, but there is free WiFi at the McDonalds down the street (Ming and I now have a routine of going to McDonalds to order tea and a fruit bag and then sitting down to blog until our batteries die). The rooms have lockers to store things like my laptop (and thank God Mum bought me a secure lock in the airport -- it was supposed to be for my suitcase, but it's serving me well holding my locker closed.

But I think the most important thing is that I'm doing it at all. St. Christopher's slogan is "Live Your Life", and seedy as it is (and the girl from New Zealand who was staying here earlier says that this is one of the nicer St. Christopher's she's stayed in), I'm actually living.

There's something to be said for that.

2008-08-25T07:01:00.001-04:00

London Calling

A lot has happened since arriving in the UK, but on the whole, I'm settling in fairly well. But first things first – in answer to Chris, First Class is officially awesome. Let me take you on a little guided tour...

After arriving at the airport, I wandered around looking for the gate. Upon finding it, the sibling helped wheel my luggage over and topple it onto the belt, whereupon we discovered that it was double the weight allowance for economy class, but exactly the weight allowance for Club class. It would cost $200 to take my baggage, but $400 to upgrade to Club Class.

Mum came over to find out what was going on, and upon hearing it, said "you know what, I'd go for it." So I did. And the giddiness firmly overrode the panic that had been gripping me up till this point. So after drinks with my family, I bid goodbye (Simon earning a smack from Dad when he said, on reaching the security checkpoint, "darn, you can't take your gun.")

No lounge for the Club Class, unfortunately, but they more than make up for it with the large, comfy leather seats on the plane, which you board before everyone else.

The big screen shows the flight details, how far we've travelled, how far is left to go, our location on various scales of map, the time and weather at our destination, how long we've been travelling and how long we have left to go. When it's not paging through this useful information, it's either showing commercials or our in-flight movie -- "Kung-fu Panda". Which I totally watched, as headsets were free for Club class.

Just before they let the economy passengers on, they make sure the Club class has other things to think about – namely, glasses of champagne.

This was about the point that my seatmate joined me (moved from the seat beside the crying baby), so I stopped taking photos of every damned thing. Which I regret now. The meals were pretty sweet. After starting drink service (and I did not, regrettably, take advantage of the open bar, largely because they didn't have any really girly drinks), they announced that they would be serving a light snack for the evening. When they brought around drinks and little cups of fancy snack mix, I thought "oh, this is nice." When they cleared those away and brought a plate of juice, brie, prosciutto, grapes, black olives, and a pretzel roll, with biscotti and a piece of chocolate and tea for dessert, I realized the big difference between club and economy (economy got a roll in a plastic bag, and a microwavable Indian wrap -- the kind they sell at the Big Carrot -- and two two-bite brownies.)

After bringing around the hot towels, they offered us socks and sleeping masks, and we settled in for as much sleep as we could get -- which wasn't much, especially as the girl behind me kept shoving my seat up whenever I tried to recline it.

We were awakened by our flight director about 90 minutes outside of London, offered hot towels, and served breakfast – juice, tea, fresh fruit (slices of honeydew, cantaloupe, pineapple, and a strawberry), a muffin and a warm roll with jam, and a crepe stuffed with sweet cheese, apples, berries, peaches, and covered in maple syrup – this was my choice of the four options, the other three of which were omelets of various configurations.

Economy got a muffin.

Then we landed, and I discovered that my airport pickup wasn't there. After wandering aimlessly for some time, I got directions from the information stand, and wheeled my ginormous bags to the underground to attempt to navigate the tube for the first time. At least I had Claire's guide to British Currency to help me out.

When I attempted to buy my ticket, the guy kept saying "are you SURE you only want to go to Hammersmith today?" My response was a very weary and frustrated "I just want to get to my hostel." So they let me in and I made my way to the platform.

I now understand what "Mind the Gap" means – the platforms, depending on which station you're at, are various distances above, below, and away from the train doors. After hauling my bags up the step and onto the train, I settled into a corner and made my way to Hammersmith. Coming out, I missed the entrance to the hostel a couple times, as I hadn't realized that the registration desk was, in fact, in the pub on the first floor. There are a bajillion flights of narrow stairs up to my dorm room on the top floor and I despaired of getting my bags up, but fortunately I was aided by the desk clerk and a friendly Canadian Cowboy (that's really the only way I can describe him) from Toronto (yes, he's cute, but he smokes).

Arriving at my room, I found that I wasn't the first one there. Another girl, Ming, was sitting on the bed that was supposed to be mine (hers was occupied by somebody else – their registration system is a little wonky), so I grabbed the bunk over hers. Whereupon I found out that she was on the same flight as me, and another Impact teacher from Toronto.

Even stranger, she was a student at OISE, but did her practicum at both of my placement schools at the same time that I was at each – we just taught on different floors so never really ran into each other. United by the camaraderie of shared experience, we decided to explore around, and ended up leaving via the fire escape, which gave us a lovely view of the surrounding rooftops.

Buses!

The Swan restaurant across the road:

Hammersmith station:

One Broadway (home of the McDonalds with free wifi, being used to post this blog):

Rental bikes out front:

So here I am in London. And it's not nearly as scary being here as I thought. Yes, it's still somewhat daunting to think that I have a housing search to deal with, but I have a friend, I speak the language, and though many things are very different, there are things that are familiar too.

2008-02-08T16:50:00.000-05:00

Missing you...

So I'm teaching Grade 7/8 music and drama now. It's really different -- it's rotary, there are 300 kids, I have certain classes once or maybe twice a week. They're pre-teen/teenagers, and very concerned with being cool and disaffected. And I'm coming in halfway through the year. So connecting with the kids is difficult. After a while, it makes you question your effectiveness as a teacher.

Cue today -- I went back to visit my grade sixes. Sandra didn't tell them I was coming. So I stepped in the door. After a moment, one of the girls noticed me. And then I was buried under a pile of shrieking, excited girls (and waved at by a smaller group of excited but shy boys).

The kids down the hall in special ed came back to give me a hug.I literally had to pry some of them off me to send them out for recess. And again for French. Even the boys, who were too shy to hug me, found reasons to hang around and show me stuff.

And they've put a picture of me up on their classroom door.

Sometimes, all you need to make you feel better is to know you did something right.

2008-01-10T22:29:00.001-05:00

That Darned Cliff Again

Every so often, I get the feeling that my life can be summed up by a big giant cliff. The move to the ROM felt like I was jumping off that cliff, but it wasn't. Not really. It was more a stumble over an embankment that led to the cliff. I thought that the move to Teacher's College was the jump off the cliff, but as it turns out again, it was only a little dip. A small jump to a ledge a few feet down. The real cliff is much, much bigger.

I went to the Boards Fair at York tonight. And I realized something. I want to teach in the TDSB or nowhere.

But before that, I want to teach overseas.

The thought terrifies me. But it's also the perfect time. I'm graduating, I don't have a full-time job lined up, I've never really left Canada (I've been around on band trips and for cons, but I rarely saw farther than the hotel). It's the perfect time in my life to go.

But I'm scared of leaving my apartment (though chances are very good we can find someone to sublet). I'm scared of teaching in a place where I don't speak the language (for whatever reason, I'm really attracted to teaching in Korea). I'm also thinking about Australia and New Zealand. And maybe London, Cardiff, or Scotland. I'm very uncertain. But something is telling me that this is what I need to be doing.

2008-01-06T00:22:00.001-05:00

What a Wonderful World

I ended up doing pretty much nothing yesterday (though I did get a number of gifts made while watching fluff), but in the afternoon, Chris dropped by and said that we needed to go for a walk. This is why.

It was perfectly, gloriously winter. It was about four in the afternoon, but as you can see, the streetlights were on, because the sky was a dark, slate grey. Yet the weather was mild, everywhere you looked was white, and there was a silence about everything, like the world was holding its breath.

It's the kind of winter we don't see much anymore. I remember getting home from school on my birthday and going out into the backyard to build snowforts and tunnel through the snow. This is the first year in ages that my birthday was not actually green. Yes, winter is cold, and can be very wet and sniffly, but days like this also remind you that it can be quietly, breathtakingly beautiful.

2008-01-06T00:04:00.000-05:00

Change to Opportunity to Transformation

Happy New Year, everyone!

It's the start of another year, and I'm left not knowing quite where I am. Life has been such a blur lately (owing in large part to teacher's college) that it's hard to figure out just how I got here. When I compare where I am now to where I was two years ago, it's a little staggering to see how much has changed in only two years. And yet, there are some things that I had great hopes for that are still in the same place they were then.

I said two years ago, when I began planning about teacher's college, that I felt as though I were standing at the top of a cliff, so high I couldn't see the bottom. Teacher's college was the leap off that cliff. But I'm still falling, and still have no idea where I'm going to end up a year from now. As scary as it is, it's also a little exhilarating, because that unknown holds so much possibility.

So what does 2008 hold in store? Finishing teacher's college is, of course, the priority. But what next? I have so much I want to accomplish this year, and it's going to be really difficult to get it all together. Some kind of plan is definitely in order. But most of all, for 2008, I really want to bring some focus back to my writing, and to Stellar Magpie. It's not going to be easy, with everything else I have to do, but at least I have some idea of where to start.

And it helps to know that, no matter how scary things get, I don't have to go through anything alone.

2008-01-06T00:03:00.000-05:00

A New Addition to the Family

Erin's birthday/Christmas present to me finally arrived (which means I was finally able to give mine to her). She was a little worried -- she said it was really weird, and wasn't sure whether or not I would like it.

She needn't have worried. She knows me far too well.

2007-11-18T12:17:00.000-05:00

Mr. Elliott's 90th Birthday

For those who went to Newmarket High school in the 60s, 70s, and 80s, my Grandfather was a household name. Some people loved him, some hated him, but everyone who had him for English seems to remember him.

His 90th birthday is coming up, and to mark the occasion, we're trying to collect memories from his former students. Those who have contacted me recently to pass on their good wishes have truly touched him, and we know that a collection of thoughts, cards, and good wishes would be extremely valuable to him.

If you have an e-mail to send to him, you can send it to bill.elliott.birthday@gmail.com. If you would like to mail a card to him, contact us at the above e-mail address and we will give you a mailing address to send it to. And if you could, please spread the word to those you know who also remember him fondly.

Help us make this a truly remarkable birthday for a very special man.

Thank you,

The family of "Wild" Bill Elliott

2007-11-11T13:55:00.000-05:00

In Remembrance

Last night, The Toronto Choral society performed our annual Remembrance Day concert. It's not like our usual concerts. It's very solemn, using narrative, video, and music, and it highlights both the landmark moments of the war, and the more quiet griefs. Stories of a mother travelling to Italy to see the resting place of her son. Of an Allied soldier sharing his last canteen of rum with a dying German as the guns echo around the house in which they took shelter.

Perhaps the most poignant moment in the performance is the one in which, accompanied by the choir singing Sim Shalom, images from the Last Album are projected onto the screen behind us. Very few people can make it through that part of the performance without crying. Most of the choir members can't look anywhere near the screen at that time, and have to think very hard about mundane things in order to be able to make it through the song (it's pretty much impossible to sing when you're crying).

The images are of people. Children. Families. Treasured photos that those sent to Auschwitz couldn't bear to leave behind. And in some cases, the only remaining records that these people ever existed.

I myself exist because of WWII. In writing a biography of my grandfather for a writing class in high school, I learned that as a young man, he went overseas with the RCAF during the second World War. It was there that he met a young Scottish woman named Doris Jean Brown (Flicka to her friends), who drove a bomb truck for the allied forces. That woman was my grandmother.

I attended Remembrance Day assemblies every year in school, yet none of them ever affected me the way this concert does. The concert is a very poignant reminder that this day is not about glorifying war. It's about honouring those who sacrificed their lives, and ensuring that the events of war are understood and remembered, so we understand how important it is to work toward a world in which war is only a memory.

2007-04-13T13:28:00.000-04:00

Midnight pleasure cruise through shark-infested waters

Okay, I think most people who'd care have already seen the Howard Hendrix diatribe in the SFWA community. Stephen up there in my icon is putting things a bit more extremely than I would, though I was seriously tempted to use this icon when responding in the community. What's interesting in reading the comments, particularly those defending him, is how many people higher up in the organization are missing the point. This is only one incident in a long series, but it exemplifies a problem that many SFWAns and potential-SFWAns have been butting up against for a while now.

Take, for example, this (emphasis mine):

Wow, indeed. I had no idea that Howard feels that strongly. I take issue with the term scab, too, because SFWA is not a union and there are no picket lines to cross. He does exemplify the belief that the free distribution of fiction, etc. on the Internet will hurt, rather than help, professional authors in the long run, and rather than calling him names or scoffing, it might be helpful to see why an author in his position, heavily invested in the current publishing model, might feel that way.

The problem here is that there are really two issues involved, and only one being addressed. I don't think most people object to his beliefs (i.e. e-publishing and free publishing = bad). I think everyone agrees he's entitled to express them. I think many people disagree with his beliefs.

I think what many people (myself included) object to is the venom in which those beliefs are steeped.

And I think that the problem is that this kind of venomous diatribe is what many non-SFWAns see as representative of SFWA.

This has come up multiple times in multiple arguments that I've seen since I started paying attention to various SFWA communities and newsgroups. The standard response from the higher-ups seems to be "oh, well of course not ALL SFWAns feel this way, but what're you going to do about the vocal minority?", and there's a tendency to refuse to acknowledge that this is a very real problem, and a threat to SFWA and all the good it is capable of doing.

I used to be one of those writers who firmly believed that it'd be a cold day in hell before I'd join SFWA -- attitudes like the one expressed in the diatribe are why. Since reading opposing views on places like the Whatever and the electionblog, I'm coming to feel differently. But things like this coming from the current elected vice president are not helping. If SFWA is going to be relevant to writers in the age of technology, it needs to be able to listen to opposing views without stamping its feet and crying "You're all wrong, and anyone who disagrees with me is stupid and evil!"

It's a little like conversations with Creationists at the museum. I can and do have civil conversations with Creationists all the time about Creation, Evolution, and the contents of the galleries. But this diatribe is more akin to the Creationist who comes screaming into the gallery and accuses me of being a vile heathen who's going to hell for teaching this evolution filth. I want absolutely nothing further to do with people like that -- and I put absolutely no stock in anything they have to say. You may in fact have a valid point, but if you bury it in excrement, few people have the patience to wade through the shit to find it.

I think the take-home message in this case is that if you want people to take you seriously and listen to what you have to say, you're free to disagree with them -- just don't be a douche.

ETA: I will say that the best thing to come out of this is the icon Robin made.

2007-04-13T00:28:00.001-04:00

Arms...like....noooodles!!!

Ow. Seriously ow. Dancing with a veil? Sooooo much fun -- but your arms are dead by the end of it. Still, it was very swooshy, and a great way to spend a Thursday night. Laura has a great sense of humour, and really, dancing with a veil is all about attitude. Alice, Karina and I spent a lot of time laughing. Yes, there was some veil-in-the-face, and Karina and I ended up tangling our veils, and my shoulders are killing me, but this is exactly why we're going to dance class. We have a great time, and we get to jingle and play with veils.

Speaking of jingling and playing with veils (how's THAT for a segue), the War for the Oaks Trailer is online, for anyone who missed it (I can't believe I did). No, there's not a movie -- it's more a low (LOOOOOW) budget trailer Will Shetterly made for the movie-that-might-have-been. And it's a good trailer for the book. And apparently the Phouka was one of the cops in the "Trash" episode of Firefly. And it's also a lot of fun.

2007-03-22T10:33:00.000-04:00

Ancient Peru Unearthed (Got Kids???)

The ROM's latest travelling exhibition is Ancient Peru Unearthed, and before I go any farther, if you have kids, care for kids, know anybody with kids, check this out.

My friend and sometime boss, Lindsay, nearly killed herself putting together a truly wicked activity guide for families visiting the exhibit, the centrepiece of which is the Become a Sican Lord contest, but due to snafus and miscommunication and no fault of hers, the activity guide has gone largely unnoticed. Meaning there are no entries thus far for the contest.

So, if you have kids who like crafts, go check out the instructions and enter them. Since there are no entries so far, you have a hell of a good chance to win that camera, but more importantly, we really want to get entries in there to show everyone that there is a place for families at the ROM.

So what about the exhibit itself? I really, really enjoyed it. Unlike the last exhibit, this one really tells a story, beginning with the history of the region and the Sican place within it, to a short film discussing the discovery of the lost civilization, to the discovery of the Lord's tomb and the treasures contained within. From there, the methods of production of the absolutely stunning gold pieces are discussed, as well as aspects of metallurgy, the social structure of the Sican society, and their religion and beliefs. The exhibit strikes the right balance of providing information without being overwhelming, but the information is actually provided.

Of course, my favourite part comes right at the midpoint of the exhibit -- the Ancient Peru dig. It had the potential to be fairly dull (five hours doing the same thing), but after putting some thought into it and changing my approach yesterday, I had a really great time. And so, I think, did the kids.

The exhibit places a very heavy emphasis on the importance of archaeology, as looting in the region is a huge problem. Thus, the emphasis on why context of peices is important, and why removing a piece from its resting place destroys the context, and with it, knowledge of how these people lived.

So when kids arrive at the Archaeology Dig, I welcome them to Batan Grande in Peru, and ask them if they'd like to join my archaeology team. As foreman of the dig, I'm in charge, and I give them a little bit on why archaeology is important. Then they have a choice of three sites to dig at -- each site contains different things, and all those things togeter will let us figure out what that place was.

One dig contains llama bones, dung, whole and split firepit rocks, reed mats, clothing, and pots. This is the family hearth.

Another contains shells, beads, ceramics, and a few awls. This is the bead and ceramics workshop.

The biggest (and my favourite) is a large stone dig containing burnt wood, broken crucible fragments coated with gold or silver slag, clay reed tips, gold nuggets (pretty much all of which were stolen during march Break), a copper and silver ornamental disk, a stone tool, and a gold tumi knife. This is the smelting pit, where metal was refined and shaped.

The best part about the dig is that when the kids actually listen to me, they figure all this out for themselves. I spent forty five minutes yesterday with a four year old girl who was amazing. She was able to tell her mom that what she was looking at was a bit of llama poo, which they used in the fire because it had lots of straw in it. She was FOUR.

But most of the kids I had yesterday were great, and I haven't heard kids calling my name so much since Summer Club, eager to share what they found with me.

Which just goes to show, when you go at it with the right attitude, even a repetitive task can be exciting and new each time.

2007-03-08T10:41:00.001-05:00

Ad Astra 2007

Here is my first attempt at a con report. As usual, I didn't take nearly as many photos as I wanted, even though my camera was with me pretty much all the time (except at the dance). Ah well.

Pre-Con

My con reports usually don't start here, but this one was worth mentioning. The months, weeks, and especially days spent leading up to the con were thoroughly entangled in The Architect's Dream. What is The Architect's Dream, you may ask? Good question. It was the original title of the Under Cover of Darkness launch game. The original plot was completely different, for the most part. There was still a conspiracy, in which Jana was thoroughly involved, but it had to do with the Idea Library (where writers get their ideas from), a cabal of Secret Librarians, and was discarded because a) it got too complicated, and b) it ended up turning into the Secret Librarian show and drifting away from the anthology. So we returned to our original original idea, which had previously been discarded as making too little sense.

Then came the real work -- preparing all the puzzles and evidence. We were working largely on our own here, communicating through e-mail and IM, with a few strategy sessions at Jana's house. I wrote many of the puzzles and clues furtively during breaks at work, and late at night after I'd gotten all the rest of my own work done.

There was one very memorable group IM chat on Wednesday night, which involved a lot of last-minute puzzle ideas, changes, frantic "no, no, seriously guys, a hole punch! It'll be great!". I also learned a lot about my image editing software -- all the handwriting on the puzzles, save half of the scrawls on the back of the Darwin evidence, were mine, and since I lack a scanner at home, getting a block of text onto a clue often meant writing it on the back of a draft of another clue, photographing it, editing out the blur and paper colour gradations, plonking it onto the clue, and e-mailing it back to Jana for printing.

Perhaps the biggest task was finishing off the Queen of Air and Darkness mask that would play an intergal part in the game. Eventually titled "The Answer Lies Beneath", it took about two and a half months to make. There will be better pictures when I get around to them, but this is what it looks like:

Yes, that's all wire and beads.

Still, I realized at about 2 in the morning on Tuesday or Wednesday, as I was frantically working on one of the pieces of evidence (I can't at this point remember whose it was -- maybe Amanda's), that as tired as I was, I was having so much fun. I totally understand now how the Pixar guys can work until 2 a.m. seven days a week and still love their jobs. I would love to be able to do this stuff for a living.

There was a final strategy/envelope stuffing session on Thursday night, during the blizzard (getting to Jana's was FUN!), during which several details were ironed out, including how to have Darwin present for the game, even though he was no longer able to attend the con. Then, it was home for packing and a quick rest before...

Friday

Alice and I waited at my house on Friday night for Karina, Jana, and Ruth to arrive, during which time I searched rather desperately for a) the case to Casualties of Retail, and b) the CD of Soapbox Heroes. I never did find either (Karina, could I get a copy of yours until mine turns up?), but I did manage to uncover my missing Loreena McKennitt CD, so there was at least some progress. Then the gang arrived, and we all shoehorned in for the short jog to the hotel-in-the-middle-of-nowhere.

We had another cool Myst room, with a wildlife warning on the window (Alice: "Are those lemurs?"), and there was hurried dumping off of stuff before heading out to the lobby. We observed that Leah had been busy -- there were Under Cover warning signs everywhere.

Registration, meeting with friends, sneaking the mask into the Art show (and the clue under the table), and a quick bite to eat in the Green Room later, and we were off to the Under Cover of Darkness info panel. Karina sat inside and delivered a nice friendly chat about the rules, to much friendly giggling and amusement, while Leah and I paced around outside, looking at a piece of paper and our watches and getting increasingly agitated. Jana sneaked by to peek inside, and then we were on. Leah and I burst in, proclaiming that our game had gone beyond what we planned -- our anonymous source failed to show, but we got an e-mail stating that someone was using the anthology to send some sort of message, and we needed to track them down and stop them. The players were given their info packages, and they were off!

15 minutes. Shortest panel ever.

We hooked up with friends to do the party circuit... oh hell, we went to the chocolate parties. Goat cheese and raspberry is my new favourite flavour ever. Chocolate consumed, we retired for bed. Saturday was going to be a long day.

Saturday

Saturday started very, very early, at 7:30 a.m., to replace the panel info posters with the "Stop investigating" warning posters. Throughout the con, Jana got a huge kick out of seeing people's faces as they realized the signs were changing. Then it was off to the green room for tea and breakfast (I was constantly amused by Rob Sawyer going "Look! It's Nebula Award Nominee Karina Sumner-Smith!" everytime Karina walked into a room -- I think Karina was somewhat less amused) before heading to Amanda's reading.

Then it was down to the Polaris launch. I think everyone can agree that the highlight of the launch (aside from the sno cones) was Sarah Niedoba, winner of the International Polar Year's International Student Writing Competition (and also Karina's Mum's student).

Also on the panel are Emily Mah, Anna Paradox (best name ever), and Jane Petrovich, my Fantastic Companions bookmate.

This was also the panel at which Peter Maloney made me laugh so hard I almost cried. Since Darwin was unable to attend the con, we needed a substitute. Fortunately, Darwin's story featured psychics with companion hamsters, so Peter was being mind controlled by an absent Darwin all weekend via the stuffed hamster in his pocket (along with a button labelled "pay to attention to the Nlyx upon my shoulder"). I'm very lucky to have friends who a) are really good sports, and b) are really good at improv. It was also fun to tell people all weekend "Yeah, Peter's acting really wierd... it's almost like he's two different people."

Then it was time for a quick lunch before Alice's first panel ever (this was also Alice's first con ever), "Ongoing Settings, Recurring Characters", moderated by my favourite surrogate con dad, Rick Wilber. Alice did really well, and talked a lot more than I did on my first ever panel. Though she did get the same "okay, now you say something" that I got. I think it's an initiation thing.

Next was the Urban Fantasy panel, and my first ever shot as moderator. I think it went pretty well -- we laughed a lot, got in a dig at the Dresden Files, and discussed exactly what the hell we mean by Urban Fantasy. Added bonus was that the panel was all my friends (Karina, Mark, and Amanda), and Stephanie, who I know and like perfectly well.

This is the point that, unfortunately, Karina got felled by Con Head (or possibly Tom's kickass Nebula brownies), and Alice and I spent the next little while running around and trying to find food for her. Then I took Alice for a proper dinner before retrieving Karina and dropping in on the newsgroup gathering, and then ducking out to sneakily snag the mask from Artist's Alley and get Alice ready for the Masquerade.

At 7, Karina and I headed to the gallery rooms for our panel on the Asimov Award (now Dell Magazine's award, and no, I'm not typing the whole thing out -- someone at some point commented that I had a LOT of panels, and I had to point out that the title of the Dell panel took up three lines on my badge schedule). Unfortunately, as it was an hour before the masquerade, the only people to show were Rick, his friends Matt and Nick (who is responsible for me being at Ad Astra in the first place, in a very roundabout way). So after learning a few Very Interesting Things about the innerworkings of the Award, we adjourned the panel to the bar.

Finally, it was time for the masquerade. There were some great costumes, some really painful moments, and Alice's moment of triumph as she burst out to deliver a warning and got dragged out by stage ninjas. The mask looked fabulous from the audience, and we all agreed that Alice delivered the best performance of the night. This also may have started something -- look for a joint Alice Cooley/Stellar Magpie costume at upcoming cons. We're also promised video and proper photos of the masquerade, so I'll post those as soon as we get them.

After the masquerade, we headed up for some socializing before putting Karina to bed and heading down to the dance. Julie and I were soon joined by Alice, Jihane, Ruth, Lara, Nicole, Rob, and several other familiar faces. I have to say, even if I didn't last until Doctorin' the Tardis, the Dance is still my favourite part of the con. Plus, Alice kicks ass at dancing to Bollywood songs. That is all.

Sunday

Sunday started waaaay too early. After about 5 hours of sleep, we got up to change the posters to the final warning: "You have been warned". Then Julie and Jana treated the Game Designers to breakfast for all our hard work, which was most welcome after a weekend of grazing. Alice got to sleep in, and Karina foiled a waffle poacher. Altogether a very productive breakfast.

I slipped the mask back in to Artist's Alley, and began fielding the first of the game-winning phone calls. Then it was off with Karina to do our joint reading, which seemed to go over well -- Amanda, what did you think of the first part of the story?

Back to the Artist's Alley to retrieve the mask one final time. Cue a moment of sheer and utter panic as the tendrils on the mask became firmly and inextricably tangled in the mesh on my con bag. Fortunately, the Bakka table came equipped with scissors.

Alas, poor con bag.

Finally, it was time for the Under Cover of Darkness book launch, which was everything we hoped it would be. It began with a congenial panel of happy authors and editors (and Jana had kickass hair, if I do say so myself, not to mention the coolest outfit ever). There was much laughter, and happy author dances, and Amanda even coerced Doug Smith into dancing. Which, oh look, I managed to capture on film. Sort of. That blur is Amanda.

Then came the fun part. Jana commented that she didn't understand what all these posters were about, because there was no conspiracy whatsoever. Cue Alice running out to deliver another fantastic performance about the lies, deceit, and ninjas behind the book. Karina and I leaped in to fling accusations, and finally got Amanda to admit to being a member of the Seelie court. Then Doug Smith confessed. Then Jihane, which led to the great battle between the British and the French (Roger Czerneda has a fantastic picture of it, as well as the rest of the con, here). Steve Kotowych protested that we didn't have time for all this, but got strangely silent when we demanded to know how he managed to be on three panels at the same time. Then we wondered how we got all this evidence pointing at Darwin when he wasn't even there, whereupon the Nlyx poked its head around the corner and cackled ominously.

Jana stood up and berated the authors for letting the secret out, and we revealed that she'd been planting all those warnings all over the convention. It was about at this point that we noticed Julie talking on a large black handset. "Ah yes, Marty," she said, "I know it was supposed to stay hidden, but it's out now."

"Julie," Jana cried. "You knew?"

"Of course I knew," said Julie. "I'm the senior editor, I know everything." She paused. "Okay, okay, Marty, you're senior editor."

Yes, it was Julie behind the evidence and Alice. So why did she let the stories into the anthology in the first place if she knew the authors were trying to send a message?

Because they were good stories.

End game, end launch (then signings), prizes to the game winners (Jane and Ben, Lorne and Heather, and the team that included fellow Toronto Undergrounder, -- go Tony!) and by the end of the weekend, Bakka only had four copies of the anthology left. I'd say it was a job well done. Next up: The Architect's Dream designers for Fan Achievement: Other, Prix Aurora Awards 2008. Oh yes, there will be lobbying. :o)

There was one final panel for me and Amanda at 2, on Building a Better Alien. Unfortunately, two panelists were missing (though we did manage to rope Lorne Kates and Anna Paradox into staying), and our audience was rather small, but we did manage to come up with a fantastic sentient slime alien.

I staggered back to the Bakka table to find my very tired compatriots giggling over The 300, which lead to many cries of "Let me show you our lovely killing well," "Nice going, Stumblios," and "SPARTAAAAAA!!!!" as we packed up the room. It's Spartastic!

And that was the con. Busier than most, but one of the most fun at the same time. I can wait for the next game.

2007-03-05T14:27:00.000-05:00

Jane, Divided

My middle name isn't exactly a secret. In fact, if your acquaintance with me happened via the writing/fandom route, you may not even know that I don't use it.

My father always wanted me to be named Jane, but my mom refused. I was supposed to be Emma, until someone pointed out to her that Emmy Elliott sounded silly, and then I was going to be Jenna, until she decided that didn't sound right either (then they were going to give it to my sibling, until he was born). I'm not sure how they settled on Sarah, but as a compromise, my middle name became Jane.

It was never a hyphenate, and the only time I ever heard "Sarah Jane" was when somebody was mad at me (i.e. "Sarah Jane Elliott, get down here this minute!")

Then came grade three, and the cartoon show Bravestarr. Bravestarr was a space marshall. Bravestarr had some weird transforming anthropomorphic robot horse. The horse had a gun named Sarah Jane, whom he would introduce, loudly and with great vehemence, every time he needed to menace someone. There came a point at which I couldn't walk into a room without someone going "It's Saaaaaaaarah Jaaaaane!!!!" So at some point in the third grade, I decided I would never acknowledge my middle name again, and for a time actually looked into changing it to Katherine.

Then, in second year university, I started attempting to publish my fiction. The problem was, when I egosurfed the TPL catalogue, I discovered that there already is a "Sarah Elliott" who writes children's books on pollution. Also, I felt that "Sarah Elliott" doesn't flow very well, and you almost have to hiccup in the middle to pronounce it or slur it all together ("Sarahlliott"). So I put the Jane back in for publication purposes. And it kind of crept in elsewhere.

It's still one of my names, but it's my middle name, and not actually part of my first name. I don't think anyone calls Diana Wynne Jones "Diana Wynne". I know that nobody calls Jim Gardner "James Alan" or Bob Wilson "Robert Charles". I just happen to have a first and middle name that combine well into a hyphenate.

Which is why I don't exactly get offended when anyone calls me Sarah Jane. Especially if they don't know me very well. But it's distancing -- it's almost like Sarah Jane is the author-type person, but she's not actually me. And this tends to make me subconsciously standoffish with anyone calling me "Sarah Jane". This is also why I will tell you "no" if you ask if you can call me "SJ". You can, however, call me "Sarah".

I have a love/hate relationship with my middle name. I've grown more attached to her after our falling out in elementary school. I'm actually starting to like her again (I admit, Doctor Who helped out a lot in that department). But I still don't like letting her hang around with my friends.

2007-03-02T12:56:00.001-05:00

Game On

Getting ready to head off to Ad Astra, where there will be lots of fun, geekery, and meeting up with friends.

Conspiracy? What conspiracy? I don't know anything about any conspiracy.

2007-02-11T22:48:00.000-05:00

End of Vacation

What already? Where the frell did it go? Okay, so I spent much of it getting my room in order. And while there are still massive amounts of filing to do, that much is done. The floor is... well, as clear as it's gonna get. I know where all my jewellery materials are. I watched a lot of movies. I read a lot of books. Didn't get a lot of correspondence done, or get my head CT from the hospital, or a bunch of other things. But I'm a lot more relaxed than I was a week ago.

So I resolved to get writing done during vacation week. At the beginning of vacation week, my wordcount looked like this:

26,738 / 75,000
(35.7%)

at the end of vacation week, my wordcount looked like... um... this:

26,738 / 75,000
(35.7%)

So on Saturday morning, Alice and I headed down to Chris's house (Chris is away) for writing weekend in the city. There was good pizza, and chocolate, and Chris's homicidal blinds that favour flinging clips at your eyes at high velocity. And at then end of the weekend, my wordcount looked like this:

41,037 / 75,000
(54.7%)

See? I keep saying all I need is lots of time. :o)

Of course, it wasn't all writing. There was also some procrastination. Chris has magnetic Shakespeare fridge poetry. At the beginning of the weekend, her fridge was covered with random pieces. At the end? This. Bear in mind, each "paragraph" is a different poem, scattered in a different place on the fridge. We had some insightful commentary on the use of "beige space."

Drunk death doth curse yon melancholy bosom
maiden who shall tempt thy peasant friend
give yonder wicked goblet to the fairest
winter ghost

Perchance my seemly measure dost warrant a perilous dream
wherein questions come and speak farewell.

Night shall bestow light o'er thine full breast
or ne'er woo our lady.

I beesech you with saucy vehemence
vouchsafe nothing to bawdy mischance
strike oft & idle not.

This is the point at which we started running low on certain word categories.

Thou hast much discontent of manner
on which we did well deceive
aye myself hadst said
whatsoever he must ask about

Haste therefore &
quench by jesting this merry witted mortal
for no tale could ever sanctify that villain.

Why make someone above
lest never are like me

Wherefore sooner will you trifle
every slander herein pleaseth
almost always in dire yielding
what were fouler through vile fortune
after wonton'd more though torment
than would get naught thence from art

Nay belch thus when all
as be loathly
have hither used up

This one is my favourite. It's called "Not Quite a Haiku". The punctuation does not actually appear on the fridge.

Alas,
Your wench is spoty.
Damn.

This one is "Scraping the Barrel"

Lazy man does like woe ere then
has let him ado thee out of here

And this one is called "Ode to Leftovers"

How too if there
at vowly
as at Amy
So'st an adous

2007-01-25T14:47:00.000-05:00

Signs of the Impending Apocalypse

1. Trees blooming in January.

2. Gulf Stream Slowing.

3. Tom Cruise is Jesus.

You know, since the whole winning the lottery thing isn't working out, I totally think we should create our own religion. But forget space aliens and pasta. Our religion will involve chocolate. And possibly David Tennant...

...I wonder if Russell T. Davies had the same idea...

In other non-destruction-of-the-planet type news, thank you Simon, the lovely associate at the Bay, for helping me find wickedly cute shoes in record time (you try having hyperkinetic, overwide feet with a half-size difference between them), being flirty in a non-skeevy way, and giving me 10% off. You rock.

2007-01-19T13:48:00.000-05:00

VACATION!!!

So yeah, seven days a week is difficult. You reach a point, eventually, at which you completely lose track of what day of the week it is -- it's just one long neverending stretch of get up, wash self, figure out where you're going today, get home, fall into bed, repeat. This becomes problematic when you have a variable schedule, and results in things like, oh, coming in an hour late for work because the shift starts at 10 on Mondays instead of 11. ::innocent look::

But I've finally managed to coordinate with all four jobs and arranged an actual, honest-to-god Vacation for a week in February. I haven't had an actual vacation since before University. I plan to get some writing done, tidy up my files, put in new bookshelves, and spend at least one day in my pyjamas watching Doctor Who and making jewellery.

Hurray for vacation!

And then, it's back to work. For a while. Things may change -- I just got a fancy letter from York saying that I have an interview for Teacher's College next Satuday. Karina says getting my interview this early in the process is a very good sign. Since Karina is a) smart, and b) knows of what she speaks, I am muchly encouraged. Terrified. But encouraged.

2007-01-12T12:44:00.000-05:00

State of the Author

So.... Yeah. The frontpage (and pretty much the rest of the website) hasn't been updated in over a year. I'm sorry. I'm working on it, I swear. Actually, I'm working on a whole new website. But it'll be a while.

In the meantime, it looks like I will be at Ad Astra this year, so if you're in the area, look for me there!

2006-12-21T16:18:00.000-05:00

A Christmas Miracle

There's a Virgin birth expected at Christmas. The mother's name is Flora.

She's also a komodo dragon.

I love nature.

2006-12-21T13:56:00.000-05:00

Happy Birthday to Me!

Thank you to everyone who sent me e-cards! Though I have to say, my absolute favourite was Karina's, which she has graciously given me permission to share with you.

::ahem::

From: Karina Sumner-Smith
To: Sarah Jane Elliott
Sent: Thursday, December 21, 2006 11:56 AM
Subject: Karina has sent you a fake eCard

Okay, so my eCard exploded. (And the other one I liked spawned pop-up ads like there was no tomorrow.) So I will now create my own. (Prepare to be dazzled.)

To Sarah,

Friend and business partner, amazing writer and maker-of-sparkly-things, champion of odd cats and geekery:

Happy Birthday!!

Then here, animated frogs dance about, doing little birthday dances while wearing pointy hats and releasing brightly coloured balloons. A bird swoops down -- oh no, will it mean disaster for our fun-loving birthday frogs? Danger approaches, fear and chaos! But no, the bird lands amidst the frogs, and instead of feasting on their green flesh with its pointy black beak, the bird only pulls a little horn from beneath one wing and plays a cheerful birthday tune. Joyful celebration ensues.

Love,
Karina

See? :o)

Also, for anyone who can find the place, my birthday snippet is on my newsgroup. Okay, it's also on Julie's, but mine could use the traffic. It's a bit from RAVEN SHADOW, and it's pretty much all anyone is going to see (with the exception of my writing partner) until the book is done, so if you're curious as to what the book is about, check it out. :o)

2006-12-21T10:20:00.000-05:00

Geek Alert! And help with Geek Mix 2!

The Geek Alarms have been sounding fast and furious lately, mostly with the release of the new TMNT trailer. As a card-carrying geek, that movie was one of the defining points of my childhood (heavily influencing my secret dream of running away to join the Creature Shop), and as this movie is the creators making a sequel to the first movie and "the bits of the second that didn't suck", I'm cautiously optimistic.

On the slightly more cautionary "will they or won't they rape my childhood" end, they've also posted a new Transformers trailer. Sure, the effects look cool, but given that the man behind the movie is also responsible for The Rock and Armageddon, part of me wants to run screaming.

Also, I'm having a lot of trouble telling if Happily N'Ever After is going to be more like Shrek (i.e. I'll like it), or Hoodwinked (I won't).

But, if all else fails, there's always Pan's Labyrinth!

And finally, I need suggestions for Geek Mix 2. Geek Mix, for those who can recall, contained such classics as "Doctor Who on Holiday" and "Doctorin' the Tardis", DDR's "Butterfly", "Lazy Sunday", "Neverending Story", "Ghostbusters", "Star Wars Cantina", and other classics of geekery. Well, I now need suggestions for the sequel. These must be songs that not only reveal your geekiness, but are also fun to listen to.

So far, I have "Snakes on a Plane", "Chilly Down", "Turtle Power", and "White and Nerdy". I need more. Lots more. Lemme have 'em.

2006-12-21T09:35:00.000-05:00

So Much To Do...

And yet so little time!

The Christmas season is upon us, and with it comes my 7-day work weeks and the never having enough time to do shopping. But I've managed to get almost everything I need for everybody (and come up with suitable alternatives for those for whom I ran out of time), and with the arrival of my birthday, I may actually have time to relax a little.

Time spent with friends last night was great fun, and Stranger than Fiction turned out to be a really enjoyable movie. I was afraid for a moment that it was going to be one of those great movies I can never watch again (I still can't bring myself to re-watch Serenity), but it wasn't, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Though I absolutely cannot wait for Pan's Labyrinth after Christmas....

2006-12-07T10:55:00.000-05:00

Tools of Baking

It's that time of year again -- the Christmas Baking, during which I end up trashing the kitchen during a marathon (this year it was 6 hours) spree of baking Christmas shortbread. I ended up with six batches all told -- traditional, sugar & spice (a new experiment), 2 batches of peppermint (the most popular), cocoa (last year's recipe), and chocolate (a new experiment involving bricks of baking chocolate).

However, making all that shortbread (and those who've seen my kitchen know there's not that much space to begin with, given the two required mixing bowls, two cooling racks, and containers in which to store all of these cookies) isn't easy. Especially when one needs to pulverize a box of candy canes into tiny pieces.

Which is why I require some interesting tools while baking. On one of my trips to throw the butter and candy cane boxes in the recycling, still toting one of my tools, I ran into the neighbour bringing in her dog.

"Oh, hello," she says, "Umm... you sounded like you've been busy. What have you been up to?"

"Baking," I say cheerfully. I thought the head-to-toe flour was a good clue.

"Oh." She pauses. "With a hammer?"

I glance down at the large claw hammer in my hand. "Sure." I give her an innocent look. "What do you use?"

2006-12-07T10:03:00.000-05:00

A Baroque Christmas

The Toronto Choral Society presents "A Baroque Christmas", Wednesday December 13 at 7:30 p.m. at Eastminster United Church. Tickets are $20, and are available through me (by giving me the money in advance and I'll have the tickets waiting at the door for you) or at the door.

The choir will also be accompanied by the Talisker Players orchestra. There will be trumpets! Ooooooh.

We are also giving a benefit concert for Street Haven Women's Shelter this Sunday, December 10, 2 p.m., at St. Paul's Basilica. The program features selections from the Baroque Christmas concert and the Street Haven Women's Choir program, and admission is donation-based, with all proceeds going to Street Haven Women's Shelter.

2006-12-03T19:18:00.000-05:00

Stellar Magpie

Okay, I've got Chris' but if anyone else has Christmas Stellar Magpie commissions they'd like from us, now's pretty much the last chance you have to get them in if they're to be done before the holidays. Smaller things are also way more likely to get done.

Also, if you're ordering anything from the website (and keep an eye on the journal, as there are a couple of pieces not yet on the site that I'll post there if our webmistress can't get them up), Canada Post notes that the last mailing dates guaranteed to arrive before Christmas are December 9 in the U.S., and December 18 in Canada. We can arrange for expedited shipping (such as for things you commission now), but it's more expensive. That doesn't mean we can't do it. ;o)

My, this icon's getting lots of mileage!

2006-12-01T10:10:00.000-05:00

'Tis the Season

Yep, it's officially December. I have a shiny blue metropass, it's finally calling for snow (which would be a distinct improvement on the rain), and with the arrival of December, I'm allowed to start listening to Christmas music (no, this isn't a hard and fast rule, but in my family, Christmas music before December meant there was something fundamentally wrong with the universe).

My favourite Christmas CD ever is the Eclectic Christmas Mix, which I put together a few years back, and it has brought me no end of joy since. The track listing is as follows:

Honour, Riches - Figgy Duff (just the first cool chanty part).
Welcome Christmas - How the Grinch Stole Christmas
God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen - Loreena McKennitt
Il Est Bel Et Bon - Hart House Chorus
Christmas Vacation - Mavis Staples
Huron Carol - Exultate Chamber Singers
Once Upon a December - Anastasia Soundtrack
Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas - Judy Garland
Gaude Te - Mediaeval Baebes
All Alone On Christmas - Darlene Love
Carol of the Bells - Hart House Singers (my former choir)
One More Sleep Till Christmas - Muppet Christmas Carol
What's This? - Nightmare Before Christmas
Balulalow - Hart House Singers
Save All Your Love - Jon Anderson
Lily - Kate Bush
It Feels Like Christmas - Muppet Christmas Carol
Rudolph - The Crystals
Coventry Carol - Charlotte Church
Kidnap the Sandy Claws - Nightmare Before Christmas
Nutcracker Overture - Tchaikovsky
Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) - Darlene Love
The Bells of Christmas - Loreena McKennitt/The Santa Clause
Christmas Day - Dido (this one is getting swapped out on this year's edition of the CD)
This Little Babe - Hart House Singers
God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen - Barenaked Ladies/Sarah McLachlan
Snow - Loreena McKennitt

And speaking of music, Erin and I went down to try to see Wicked last night. As you'll recall from my previous post, I tried to get people to help with the lottery, as we'd never been able to get tickets before. Well, nobody showed up, but that was okay. Mine was the second name called. Erin's was fourth.

We found it strangely hilarious that both our names were called (Erin's repeatedly and loudly until she ran from the box office to the top of the stairs to tell the girl with the megaphone that she could draw someone else because I'd already got her ticket). And we kept laughing up until we were seated in the box. And box seats? Pretty sweet. We could see facial expressions! And costume detail! I mean, I knew Elphaba changed dresses several times over the course of the show, but as they're all theme and variations on black, you'd never know it from the mezzanine. But more of that later -- this is not the Wicked post.

So after a much needed night out after getting all my teacher's college applications in, we came home to Miles the cat, whose mode of transportation really is hilarious. We've watched video of other three-legged cats, but none of them do the butt-dragging thing that Miles does. So here you go.

2006-11-27T18:30:00.000-05:00

Lord Miles

So as I hinted, we have a new addition to the family. After the Mortimer disaster, we were feeling somewhat bereft and ready for a third cat, and it just so happened that Karina's brother's roommate had a cat in need of adoption.

So everyone, meet Lord Miles Teacup, Marquis of Carabas (Originally of Teacup Manor)(we call him Miles).

As you may have noticed, Miles only has three legs. Either by accident or because of a mauling, he lost his hind leg, and the vet who took him in needed to find him a foster home. They found us.

He's actually incredibly mobile for a three-legged cat. He stumps around kind of like a rabbit when he's going slow, and whacks his butt on the ground a lot, but when he's motoring, he kind of uses his back leg like a skate and propels himself with his front feet.

He's really shy at the moment, and we're told he's timid with people he doesn't know until he warms up to you, but he was lovely last night and on the ride home, and we're undergoing the long process of acclimatizing the cats properly, because we're hoping he'll be a long-term addition to the household.

Though Erin has pointed out the irony of the fact that, of our three cats, Pyewacket has the most dignified name.

2006-11-27T16:45:00.000-05:00

Fa-la-la-la-laaargh

Fa-la-la-la-largh

Let's see -- where has the time gone?

Working seven days a week again, in addition to special projects which include but are not limited to: the Bakka Christmas window (almost done, but I REALLY want the frost-pattern appliques I keep seeing around my neighbourhood), my teacher's college applications (can I just say -- with the amount of headaches these things cause, I'm amazed they get as many as they do), seeing WICKED (more on that later -- perhaps after I read the book again so I can compare), and prepping the house for a new arrival (photos later tonight).

In the queue for this week and next: Choir practice, the one-of-a-kind show, getting my applications done and Xpresspost-ed by Thursday, work on jewellery for Christmas orders (and the Mermaid and Pirate stuff), finishing up the Bakka window, shopping for curtain material, bonding with the new arrival, and possibly trying to see WICKED again, Christmas cards, Christmas shortbread, assembling and stocking the new pantry cupboard, organizing the garage.

Who needs sleep?

But with the arrival of December at the end of the week, I'll be able to start playing the Eclectic Christmas Mix again, which brings me no end of joy. Christmas songs are forbidden in our household (well, my parents household, and by extension, my half of our household) until December. But after that, anything goes. If anyone is interested, I'll post the tracklist of the Eclectic Christmas Mix, which is a collection of my favourite (often non-traditional) Christmas songs that never fails to put me in a good mood.

What's on your Christmas playlist?

2006-11-24T11:00:00.000-05:00

Wish List

It's that time of year again -- here you go, Mum. :o)

Sarah's Christmas List

Doctor Who Season One.
A new Palm. Or Palm-type gadget. Anything portable that tells me where I'm supposed to be.
Lindstrom Rx-series Tools (in order of preference, available at Lacy Tools in Toronto, on Queen just east of Yonge, though you may have to call to see if they're in stock):
- Rx8152 Flush Cutters
- Rx7890 Chain nose
- Rx7490 Flat nose
- Rx7893 Short Chain nose
- Any of the other cutters: Rx8150 Micro Bevel cutters, Rx8147 tapered flush cutters, Rx8141 Small flush cutters, Rx8140 small micro bevel cutters, Rx8160 large micro bevel cutters.
Something to transport all my tools in (lots of pliers, a bead reamer, etc.)
Jewellery supplies (particularly swarovski crystals, pearls, and really cool beads).
Jamie's Dinners
Farscape Starburst-edition DVD's (vol 2.2 and later).
Throne of Jade, UK hardcover edition (also Black Powder War)
Curly Hair Solutions products, especially Curl Keeper and the Treatment Shampoo.
Ocean Girl
Gift certificates for Reitmans. Or Smart Set.
Billy Bookcase in white.
An Inigo Montoya icon that says "I do not think that means what you think it means."
Anything Chocolate and Raspberry from Godiva. Especially the truffle.
Vanilla Spice shimmer lotion, or cranberry. Mmmm, yummy smells.
Inuyasha manga. Don't have any yet.

2006-11-18T12:42:00.000-05:00

How's the Bike?

Let me regale you with a story (which may be somewhat skewed from the original, given that I last heard it in its entirety when I was nine).

Some time ago, my uncle James agreed to repair a bike for a friend. But after letting the bike sit in his garage for a while, he ended up disassembling it and using it for spare parts. It is, and has been for the last fifteen years (minimum), an ex-bike.

Every so often, the friend would call up my uncle for a chat, and at some point ask "so how's the bike coming along?"

James's response was always "Good!", in a very high-pitched and squeaky voice, at which point he would change the subject.

This story amused my father immensely, and even now, a common salutation in our family is:

"How's the bike?"
[squeak] "Good!" [/squeak]

So every so often these days, someone will ask me "How's the writing?"

Guess what I end up answering.

It's not that I don't want to be writing, or that I'm all talk and no progress. I do get writing done, in fits and starts, and I haven't bought that many dinners for Alice. The novel is, very slowly, gathering speed.

The problem is, there are three things I do with my extremely limited (as I'm still working 7 days a week) spare time -- write, make jewellery, and work on my OISE/York applications.

It's getting to the point, though, at which I'm so tired and overwhelmed that when I have an hour, I look at the pile of stuff to do and end up just wandering off and reading.

So at least I'm getting through my TBR pile.

But I'm prioritizing now. Applications are priority one. They're due December first. Jewellery is priority two -- I have several Christmas orders due, and some mermaid stuff to experiment with.

Writing is priority three. I may be buying Alice a lot of food during the holiday season.

But I will be done by May.

2006-11-17T11:27:00.000-05:00

...I Have No Words

Mostafa Tabatabainejad, an American-born student at UCLA, is asked for ID after hours at the library. Student refuses due to suspicions of racial profiling, and from accounts, is kind of a jerk about it. Campus police are called in to remove him. As he's leaving, he objects (I'm assuming in a loud and disruptive manner) to being touched by the police.

Student is repeatedly tasered for passive resistance after being handcuffed, and concerned students asking for officers' badge numbers are threatened with the same.

Incident is caught on cameraphone by another student and posted to YouTube.

Student planning excessive brutality lawsuit (bugmenot username: nothankyouidont@mailinator.com -- password: nothanks)

...I'm still trying to get my head around this.

(via cleolinda)

2006-11-17T11:04:00.000-05:00

More YouTube Roundup

Okay, I need a change of pace. So without further ado:

Rusty started it:

And with Skeeter, Inside Edition chose to profile the sadness inherent in his condition. I, being a terrible person, feel sympathy while unable to stop myself from snickering.

This dacshund has absolutely no sense of self preservation (mind the volume on this one):

And apparently Germany was suffering from a displeasing lack of Piracy:

Sharilynn from the ROM, currently on maternity leave, has one of the most expressive babies I have ever seen. She has posted a video of Jordan giggling madly at his father that makes me smile every time I watch it.

2006-11-13T00:11:00.000-05:00

Childhood Memories

It was a very odd, very thoughtful Remembrance Day. The evening news ran a list of Canada's war dead from this year in Afghanistan, to which my mother remarked "we shouldn't have war dead -- we're not at war". Which made my brain do strange and contemplative things that I'm not really in a state to get into on this journal at this time.

Seeing Dad was a great relief. I hadn't really been able to sleep since I found out about him, because every time I tried, my brain would go places I didn't particularly want to be, and I would have to get up and read or watch movies or something. But seeing that Dad is okay and well, and you'd never know he'd had the procedure if not for the massive bruising on his wrist (from where they shoved the catheter up into his heart) and his tendency to hit a wall and have to stop what he was doing, ensured that last night I actually slept. He told me on more than one occasion "stop looking at me like that!" (Mum: "Like what?" Dad: "She's giving me that 'what did you DO?' look!"), so he's either not worried, or trying to make damn sure that I don't.

Simon and I are advocating that he get a dog now -- they're good for blood pressure and they force you to get regular exercise. He says no, but we're working on him.

So our big job this weekend was to clear out our rooms of all the old junk, packing the keepsakes (like my first jewellery box and my high school yearbooks) into storage boxes, and getting Simon's room ready to paint and mine to take it's place as a very girly guest room (much of my stuff is still in there, but it's much less cluttered).

The hardest part was undoubtedly thinning out my unicorn collection. I was absolutely head-over-heels obsessed with unicorns when I was little, and collected anything that even remotely resembled one. The collection got pretty large after a while. I suppose I could have kept most of them, but they were mostly pretty tacky. I did keep the few really nice ones, but all the big ceramic or cartoony things are going to goodwill.

Even worse was going through all my old pictures, most of which I hadn't seen since we moved when I was 11. Here's a sampling:

The metallic lithograph pictures were especially thrilling to me. So thrilling in fact that I never noticed that the unicorn rearing in the clouds and the unicorn rearing on the hilltop are the same unicorn. I also had a duplicate of the mother-and-bady picture on the bottom on a laminated block, not in frame. By far the nicest was the one in the top left corner, and even that one is much better off going to a nine year old girl than languishing in my closet.

Also difficult was getting rid of this embroidered picture. It's dusty, old, and frankly kind of tacky. But I made it. I have a drawer in the closet full of completed cross-stitch I could never figure out what to do with, which is largely why I don't do cross-stitch anymore. I still love doing it, but it seems pretty pointless when it inevitably ends up in a drawer, because the finished product isn't anything I particularly want on my walls. Nor, I think, would anybody else.

But by far the crowning glory of the collection is The Clock.

I found the clock at an antique market in Aberfoyle when I was nine. I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life. I loved it so dearly, and though my parents tried their damndest to dissuade and distract me, I made them return at the end of the day and spent my meagre allowance on The Clock (my dad talked the seller down to $10). I was so happy I thought I would burst, and for years it hung on my wall. Every day I would come into my room and marvel that I owned something so breathtakingly wonderful.

The Clock, in all its glory:

Observe, the inch-deep setting for the clock, so they could fit real silk flowers inside the coach. Observe the butterfly on the second hand, that flew around and around the clock. And I think the pastel shoelaces I wove around the spokes added a certain je-ne-sais-quoi, don't you?

In the end, after unearthing The Clock and reminiscing about how happy it made me, my parents couldn't throw it away. It has been promised a place of honour in the bathroom located in our half-finished basement. And I couldn't be happier.

The rest of the things I couldn't bear to part with (like my pink personalized umbrella my aunt got me when I was four) got packed up in a rubbermaid box. On it I placed three stickers:

"Sarah's Childhood"

"Somewhat Fragile"

"Handle With Care"

2006-11-10T02:40:00.001-05:00

Not A Creature Was Stirring...

It's almost 2:30 a.m., and I'm wound up too tight to sleep, so I thought I'd dabble a bit online before cracking open (not literally) my shiny new TEMERAIRE and comfort reading for a bit.

So the update on Dad:

There is some quarrel between doctors as to whether or not he actually had a heart attack. What they do know is that the same vein and/or artery (Mum was sketchy on the details) that was blocked the last time he had a heart attack was 90% blocked in the same place the stent was. They went in through, I believe, the big vein in his wrist, forced out the blockage through the stent (which Mum said really hurt him), and put a new stent in.

Dad's out of commission for the next four weeks. No driving, no working, zip. So, needless to say, they're not coming to my choir concert tomorrow. In December, Mum and Dad are moving to my Aunt's house for a bit so Dad can be closer to work. He should be home again for December 15.

In third year university, I spent the Christmas Holidays rejoicing that one of my parents hadn't died and had come home for Christmas. This year looks to be a repeat.

I'm performing in the concert tomorrow night. Dad comes home either tomorrow or Saturday, so I'm going to find out if I've got a couple of personal days remaining at the ROM, and if I do, I'm taking them so I can hop on a bus and go be with my parents. They were planning on painting this weekend, and rather than putting it off, I'd like to do it for them so they don't have to worry about it. Maybe I can even wrangle the sibling into coming with me and helping.

So on the note of getting something really fab for the Holidays, I'm beginning Festive Winter Seasonal Holiday gift-card-recipient-list assemblage noises. If you think you should be getting a card from me (or want one anyway, or your address has changed, or whatever), drop me a line and let me know.

And for those of you waiting on my Christmas list (I know, Mum, I know), I'm almost done. I promise.

Also, WFC con report also coming. Soon.

[ETA: I should probably add that if you're sending cards to me, I did move in June and my mail is no longer forwarding]

2006-10-25T14:16:00.000-04:00

Blargh

Home sick again, and very, very bored. Voices at the back of my head are nagging me to clean something, and the voice at the forefront of my body who is keeping tabs on my actual physical condition is going "are you frelling nuts???". So I'm alternately sleeping, reading, drinking tea, and surfing the internet for wankfights.

In no particular order, I LOVED episode one of Torchwood, and cannot wait for episode two.

Also, I really, really must see Pan's Labyrinth. Dad was bemoaning the lack of a Harry Potter or Narnia this year, and I think Pan's Labyrinth might just do it for me. At least, I hope so.

Many updates pending on many things. But not till I'm better.

2006-10-23T12:10:00.000-04:00

Awesome Lunch

So last night I dragged myself through work, promising that I'd get to make a nice shepherd's pie for dinner and relax. I headed over to Loblaws after work and loaded up on supplies -- only to discover they were out of ground beef. And then they announced the store was closing. In a hurry to grab SOMETHING to eat (my cupboard, while not exactly bare, contains mostly condiments and side dishes), I picked up some chicken breast.

I ended up making a kickass chicken salad sandwich.

How:

Chop up the cooked chicken breast.
Chop up a stalk of celery.
Grate a carrot.
Smash up some walnuts.
Whoosh it all together.
Add pepper and a bit of nutmeg.
Add President's Choice Curried Mayonnaise (or I guess you could make your own with some curry).

It's fantastic. It would also be good with something sweet -- I'm thinking a bit of apple or dried mango.

2006-10-20T13:52:00.000-04:00

Other Good Stuff

WFC Austin is coming up, and I can't wait -- I need to get away so very badly. Also, shortly before that time, we may be getting a new feline addition to the house. But more on that later.

I had to apply for a new passport, and went with dread to get my photo. The first time I tried this, last year at this time (also at the period of weight loss in which photos of myself tended to send me screaming for the hills), I swear no matter what I did, I came out looking sick and extremely unhappy. You know, not the kind of picture likely to get me across the border.

So I got the passport photo back this time -- and somehow, I ended up with a rocking passport photo. Seriously, check me out!

I still wish they'd let you smile. But I really wish all my photos turned out this well.

2006-10-19T09:48:00.000-04:00

Video Fun Stuff

Lots of good videos floating around the web.

First, Bravia, of the fabulous ad in which they sent 250,000 bouncy balls down the streets of San Francisco, are at it again. With Paint.

Next, this is what happens when fangirls bitchfight about their celebrities. And the celebrities find out about it on National TV.

And finally, Torchwood, Torchwood, and more Torchwood!

And Russell talks about Torchwood.
Squee!

2006-10-19T09:45:00.000-04:00

More Good Stuff

First, from Martha Wells, the Best Brains are at it again, hurrah!

Erin sent me a link to the Indian version of Thriller.

I'm really enjoying the Greenday/U2 cover of The Saints are Coming

And Kelly will kill me, but I find this thing so spot-on when it comes to George Lucas. And funny.

2006-10-12T12:02:00.000-04:00

Some Good Stuff

I did promise. :)

Good thing: On the TTC subways, they're running a series of slightly obnoxious ads for a haunted house at Canada's Wonderland. One features a picture of a coffin in the ground, overlaid with the question "What happens if you get scared to death... twice?"

On our way home from Thanksgiving, my sibling and I discovered that some enterprising person had affixed a cheerful yellow post-it to the ad, stating "A: 1/4".

We spent a good long time laughing after that.

Other good news: A teacher brought her class to the Digital Gallery yesterday, and they enjoyed it so much, they're going to write letters to the ROM about it. Hurrah!

Which brings me to my latest dilemma -- continuing education. This last year has proved pretty conclusively to me that I get an immense amount of joy and fulfillment out of education in an unconventional setting. I could be happy working at the science centre as well, or a nature centre, or Nancy's school. Some place where education is fun and cool, and not just a way to pass the day.

Most of these places require some sort of teaching degree. I'm looking at the Teacher's Certificate, and taking a year-leave, but I'm also looking at maybe taking two years -- either for the Master's of Teaching, which also focuses on research ability (meaning I'd be more eligible for curatorial positions as well, or more programs development), or applying for the internship at Nancy's school and then doing my teaching degree. Or maybe internship + MT... at which point my head starts to hurt again.

The thing is, as scary as all this is (including that fun unknown leap into financial instability and possible bucketloads of debt), I'm really excited about the idea of doing stuff like this for a living.

Grrrgh. Too many choices. Not enough time.

2006-10-10T21:26:00.000-04:00

Humane Society Update 2

This one sucks even worse than the last one -- I promise I'll post something fun after it.

So Karina and I made a trip to the Humane Society to see what was up, and see if we could find the kittens.

Well, remember when they told us that bringing them in and reuniting the family was the best thing we could do for them?

I found Mortimer. Alone. So scared he was practically catatonic. And he's been renamed "Labatt".

We don't know what to do. We're both furious and upset now, and we don't think we're the best house for him, because Pyewacket and Alistair are too high-maintenance, but we're not willing to let him suffer there.

God, those people suck.

2006-10-03T13:48:00.000-04:00

The Family's Numbers

We've got the numbers at the Toronto Humane Society for the kittens. If you know anybody who wants a cat or a kitten, we can vouch for all of them (just don't take Tigs -- he's ours).

Ralphie, Antigone, Plum, Poppy, and Murgatroyd have the following numbers:
A104523
A104524
A104525
A104526
A104527

Clockwise from right: Murgatroyd, Antigone, Poppy, Ducky, Plum, Ralphie(in centre)

Mr. Plumperton & Murgatroyd

Mortimer and Ducky have the following numbers:
A104584
A104585

Mortimer & Ducky

Cass, once again, is:
A104634

And here are some videos of the family:

2006-10-03T10:16:00.000-04:00

Cat Update

Still no word on what's up with the cats, but our upstairs neighbour wants one before her move (oh yeah, anybody who wants to rent the upstairs apartment in our house, let me know) so she may adopt one of the kittens if the humane society won't let us do it.

Cassie came online a couple days ago -- if you'd like to adopt her, her reference number is ID# A104634. She's the second one from the bottom on that page at the moment, though it changes every day.

She's a wonderful cat -- she was coming to our door every day just because she wanted someone to pet her. She's very purry and very snuggly, and would do very well with someone who can give her lots of attention.

I'll post an update when we find Mortimer or the kittens.

2006-10-03T10:15:00.000-04:00

Continuing the Kitten Saga

I'm sorry, you've all been very patient, and I will post something witty and amusing soon.

So Erin finally caught the Mama Cass today, and brought her into the humane society. As you will recall, this is what the Humane Society instructed us to do, as it would be better to reunite the family in the long run.

They basically treated Erin like crap. Really unprofessional, "god, that carrier reeks", "um, how do you know that's the mom" kind of unprofessional. Still wouldn't let her see the kittens. Who are going out to a foster home until they're ready for adoption -- they're not putting Mum back with them. Though Erin did manage to talk the attendant into moving Mortimer in with Cassie.

Thing is, because Erin signed over Mortimer, Ducky, and Cassie (never mind that it was on the recommendation of the Humane Society, for the good of the kittens, and we did NOT sign over custody of Tigs, Ralphie, Plum, Poppy, or Murgatroyd, who were in fact taken without our consent and against our wishes), they won't let Erin adopt any of them. And there's a good chance they won't let me do it either.

2006-09-28T13:10:00.000-04:00

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

Actually, there's not much sweet about it. It involves a lot of mess and hysterics and pounding heads afterward...

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

So for the past couple weeks, all my free time has been taken up by two things. One has been Waking City (which ends tonight, after which we unlock the clubhouse), and the other has been the kittens. The kittens were so sick when we got them, but we didn't begrudge the vet bills because the Mum brought them to us, we were already looking after Mortimer, and Antigone all but asked us to help them. We've spent the time since the trip to the vet getting up extra early to go out back and medicate six (increasingly healthy) kittens plus Mortimer, often ending up covered head to toe in cat food in our efforts to get each of them medicated. Often, it involved crushing a pill up into food, grabbing a kitten, flipping it upside down, forcing its mouth open and jamming the food in (whereupon the kitten realized "oh wait, I LIKE this stuff!"). The afternoons are spent playing with the kittens bejfore the whole messy medication process is repeated in the evening.

But again, we didn't much care that we ended up filthy and disgusting. Because the kittens were visibly improving so quickly and gaining strength every day. We knew it would be worth it.

More and more people came forward to volunteer to take a kitten once they were weaned. With three weeks to go, over half the litter was placed.

And then, one day, we couldn't find them. It took two days and some door knocking to track them down.

The kittens, when they weren't in our parking lot playing or sleeping in their bed, had a hiding spot at the other side of the fence at the back of the lot. The owner of that house came down one day to find them playing, whereupon she promptly called her daughter in law, who came and took five of the six kittens to the humane society, leaving behind a distraught Ducky, Mortimer, and Cass.

We panicked. If you'll recall, we couldn't take them in to the humane society because they had told us point blank that sick kittens would be euthanized to prevent the spread of disease to the other cats. Fortunately, we'd been medicating them long enough that it looks like that won't be a problem.

So we had to reunite the litter this morning. Ducky and Mortimer were upset, and it's getting colder.

We couldn't get anywhere near Cass -- we have to try again later. But we did manage to get Ducky and Mortimer. They started crying (Mortimer in particular), Cass started crying, we started crying and couldn't really stop. The kittens were so terrified. We knew that getting the litter and their brother back together, where they would be warm and medically cared for, was the best thing for them. But we almost couldn't do it.

We finally made it to the Humane Society. But it was before adoption hours. So they wouldn't let us see our kittens. Not even Tigs, who we were planning on keeping. They won't put him on hold either, so we really have to trust to luck when he comes up for adoption and hope we get to him first. We both broke down into hysterics at that point, and stood in the lobby, sobbing.

We were annoying and persistent enough that they did put Mortimer and Ducky with the others. They'd wanted to separate Mortimer. We swore we'd take him back if they did that. Mortimer dotes on those kittens, he looks after them, and was even more upset than Cassie that they'd been taken. He's such a good brother.

We still may take him back. We plan on visiting, and when the kittens go up for adoption, taking whichever is happiest to see us. We're not sure.

As I may have mentioned, this is a decision that we thought we'd had another three weeks to make.

But right now, my God, it hurts.

2006-09-20T09:29:00.000-04:00

Kitten Aid

Okay, so here's the story: we have a feral cat living in our backyard. She managed to find the two biggest (and poorest) suckers in the Playter Estates, and came to us when she had her kittens four months ago. Mama Cass is one of the most affectionate cats we've ever met, so we couldn't say no to Sheldon, Molly, and Mortimer. We managed to find homes for Sheldon and Molly, and continued to tame Mortimer (he's really great now -- he loves to play and cuddle).

So of course, Cass brought us her second litter. Of six. Who were all really sick. So of course, suckers that we are, we took them to the vet.

Which ended up costing over $400. That's including a 15% "good samaritan" discount.

Neither of us have this. We looked at each other in horror when the vet told us this -- at which point Antigone popped her head out of the carrier, squeaked at me, and climbed up my shirt to nestle under my chin and purr. Fuzzy cute manipulative bastard. So we've worked out a way that we should be okay by consolidating our groceries and eating as cheaply as we can for the next few months, but we could use some help.

So if you would like to help (clockwise from left) Ducky, Mr. Plumperton (Plum), Poppy, Antigone (Tigs), Murgatroyd, Mortimer and Ralphie and Cass, here are some things you can do:

Help us find a home for them. This, more than anything else, is the most important thing. This family seems to be genetically predisposed to being affectionate, they've all been absolutely wonderful cats. And hey, this batch of kittens has already been to the vet, all of them have been innoculated against fleas, and the kittens (and Mort) come with antibiotics to clear up the last of their colds. So spread it around -- there must be somebody out there looking for a companion animal, and these ones come pre-tested. The kittens will be ready to leave their mum in four weeks, and Mortimer is ready now.
Moral support. Seriously, we know most of my readers are in the same financial boat, and just having someone cheering us on and saying "yes, not leaving these kittens to die like the fourth kitten in Cass's last litter is a good thing".
Food. Especially wet food, which is how we're getting the antibiotics into the kittens because their throats are too tiny to swallow the pills, and they're going through it fast. But they also eat dry food (as do Cass and Morty), so if you or anyone you know has any to spare and, you know, a way to get it to us, it would help us out a lot. Nine felines (Dad comes over to mooch a lot when we're not around to run him off -- we're rather irked that Dad essentially "belongs" to the neighbour next door, who refuses to neuter him because "he wouldn't be able to survive outside") eat a lot of food.
Finances. This is the step that morally bothers me the most, and the one I'm most reluctant to include, but we need another tube of the eye medication, and we're both strapped right now. So if anybody can't do any of the three things above and would still like some way to help, and has something to spare, you can paypal dolphin__girl (at) hotmail (dot) com (two underscores in dolphin__girl) and mark it "Kitten Aid".
And just to reiterate again, the most important thing is to get the word out so we can adopt them. We've tried animal rescues without success, and the humane society has told us point blank they don't have room for kittens right now, and any sick animals coming in will be euthanized to avoid getting the rest of them sick. So it's up to us to find them homes.

Thanks!

2006-09-16T23:14:00.000-04:00

Reality, Schmeality

In online reality news, further to my lonelygirl post of a few days ago, someone found the mysterious Cassie bag. If you go back to Cassie's original video, her comment no longer says "help me". Rather, she seems pissed.

I love living in the future.

And in our own real life reality game, things got off to a good start with Waking City today. We spend five hours running around Riverdale Farm, a cemetary, and U of T campus solving clues and learning more about the shadowy Murdrum corporation, and the possible involvement of aliens/zombies/vampires. Which is an insane amount of fun, as it turns out.

2006-09-16T23:08:00.000-04:00

The Story So Far

The Bad:

My grandfather had a stroke.

I didn't get the ROM job.

The Good:

Grandpa appears to be recovering.

My supervisors, the ones who actually know what I do, can't understand why HR wouldn't consider me for the job when they (my supervisors) had me shortlisted for an interview.

And Mama cat (now named Cass) finally brought us her new litter.

Erin has posted a video of Mortimer and Ralphie.

And here we have, clockwise from left, are Duckie, Plum (Mr. Plumperton), Poppy, Antigone (Tigs), and Murgatroyd.

See why they're just what I needed?

2006-09-14T10:21:00.000-04:00

Storytelling in the Digital Age

For those bubble beings like me who are always the last to pick up on "pop-culture phenomena", I spent a good long while yesterday being entertained by the lonelygirl15 saga.

It began here (they're posted in reverse chronological order, so go to the end for the first video), with lonelygirl15. At first, the videos appeared to be random and cute video diaries from a young, pretty, and somewhat geeky homeschooled girl with strict religious parents. But as the videos progressed, a sinister subplot began emerging involving her parents, her friend Daniel (whose own videos can be found here), and her unnamed religion.

It didn't take long for people online to start smelling a hoax, and many originally thought it was some sort of viral marketing for a horror movie. But when the identity of the actress playing Bree was uncovered, the creators came out and admitted what the lonelygirl15 videos actually are:

A story. Told in Youtube videos.

Some people are OMGOUTRAGED!!!1! that Bree isn't real, and that they have been somehow deceived. But I think this form of storytelling is actually pretty cool.

As LonesomeOctober (who may or may not be involved) points out, stuff like this isn't entirely new and has its roots in The Beast, created by Sean Stewart's company for Spielberg's AI (which I thought was really intriguing when it came out). And fictional blogs are becoming quite the norm, though many are merely blogs "written by" fictional characters or historical figures, and few that I've seen actually tell any sort of narrative.

But as a storytelling form, I'm just surprised it's taken this long for someone to use Youtube in this way (and kinda sorry I didn't think of it first). I'm enjoying it; the story's not as bad as some people are making it out to be (albeit somewhat cliched), and the creators have as much as said that the fans are shaping where it's going, which is kind of neat.

And now an element of Blair-witchy geocaching has entered into the network with a contribution (which may or may not be officially connected) from Cassie, mentioned in Bree's "Swimming!" video as having disappeared.

I made the mistake of watching this thing before bed, and actually expansinated myself into sleeplessness for a bit afterward. Nothing makes for creepy like harsh whispering. The whispering, ostensibly from the missing (or deceased) Cassie states "I was here," and after seeing something fall into the same reservior in which Bree was swimming, tells the viewer to "come and get it". In the comment thread, someone who claims to live in the area has promised to go with a friend on Friday to see if there's anything in the water.

I, for one, really want to know if they find anything.

2006-09-08T23:56:00.000-04:00

My Head -- bursting with Random Useless Stuff!

All things considered, I didn't watch a lot of TV when I was a kid. But the stuff I did watch -- Thundercats, Today's Special, and Dr. Snuggles in particular -- I was absolutely devoted to.

Yet there's one show I remember loving, though I can only remember bits and pieces of random episodes. That show? Punky Brewster. But not the one that 99.9% of the people who actually know what I'm talking about are thinking of. Most people think of this when they think Punky Brewster. They think the show that dared to push boundaries, etc. etc. etc.

Me? I only knew that show existed because I stumbled upon it by accident. When looking for this one.

I just found that link. It's been almost twenty years since I last heard that song. And not only have I been singing it with disturbing regularity for almost twenty years, as it turns out I had it almost word for word.

Though really, anyone who knew me as a kid understands why the latter version was my favourite.

2006-08-31T16:33:00.000-04:00

And on a lighter note

Changing the world is hard and serious work, so it's time for some fun stuff.

First, following the meme sheep: ask me three questions, any three questions, and I will answer them.

Second: Writing news (sort of). Alice and I have set a Karina/Jana-esque deadline. Our respective novels must be finished by May. When in May? We're not exactly sure. What's the penalty for not finishing? Ummm… not much. Though it will involve public mockery by Karina.

It doesn't have to be good. It just has to be finished.

Third: More fun things about the Ex:

Snakes on a Plane.
Domesticated dinosaurs and baby goats.
Tourmaline (henceforth known by Stellar Magpie as "awesomeite").
Snakes on a Plane.
Here's a llama, there's a llama, and another little llama, fuzzy llama, slippers-llama, llama, llama, duck!
Greek nuts! Mmmmm, Greek nuts….
Did I mention Snakes on a Plane?
The rest is up to Karina.

2006-08-31T14:27:00.000-04:00

More on Harlangate

I've been giving this a lot of thought (probably more than I should), due largely in part to some of the discussion on Fandom Wank, and the more I think on it, the more I think that the angry reaction to Harlangate has very little to do with Harlan himself.

I think the reason that Harlangate became The Grope Heard Round the Fandom is because it was a) a very public venue that is b) held in high regard by those in the industry, and c) involved very notable professionals within that industry. And because it was Harlan, the "boys will be boys" dismissal tended to be stronger.

But as I attempted to explain within that thread, not everyone involved is offended on Connie's behalf. Some of us are offended on our own behalf, of which Connie's treatment is just a very visible example.

Leah's discussion has, I think, been one of the most reasoned and constructive (yes, that includes the fatwa, which is probably a lot easier to understand if you're familiar with Leah-Brand Sarcasm™). Most notably, her follow-up post, in which she explains why TGHRTF made her so angry, makes a lot of very good points.

It can be surprisingly hard to articulate why this kind of thing is so hurtful. I'm by no means aloof -- I survived high school by joining community theatre groups, who are notoriously touchy-feely. I got hugged more by the opposite sex in those few years of high school than I have in the rest of my life put together. I always enjoyed it, because they were interacting with me. Even the rowdier moments, which on occasion involved smacking or biting (theatre kids can be an odd crowd), were never hurtful, because of the manner in which they were done.

Then there are moments like the one in high school in which I was walking home and a guy on a bike smacked me hard in the ass as he passed by. Some people still can't understand why my mom came home to find me sobbing afterward. It's not so much the act -- the act was a very little thing (which, nonetheless, hurt like hell). It's the fact that the act managed to reduce me, my hopes, my dreams, everything I'd ever worked for, into an object. Something less than human. That physical contact wasn't about me-as-a-person. It was about me-as-a-thing. Sarah didn't exist to this man -- and that was the first time I'd ever actually understood something like that. That kind of act can be painfully humiliating, which a lot of people still sometimes don't understand. Which is also why aggressive-scarf-selling-guy seriously skeeved me out.

I've seen this kind of treatment in the fandom before. I've seen things like what happened to Leah. I've seen friends at cons get hit on by guys that want to send me screaming for a bar of soap. I've seen teenagers pursued by men old enough to be their fathers, despite the teenagers' repeated rejection and pleas to be left alone, and the teenagers' co-workers' threats to pursue said stalkers with pointed sticks. It wasn't even out of malice on the part of the stalkers -- it was simply because the men were still interested, and it just didn't occur to them that the fact that the girls weren't actually mattered.

I've watched award-winning, professionally-published authors being dismissed or trivialized, simply because they're female. I've seen men in the bookstore refuse to read very good SF because it was written by a woman. I've had people express Awe and Surprise that I've published SF. "Wow, that's… I mean… you're a girl."

It is a problem within the fandom. It's by no means universal, and it's definitely better when you get into the newer generation of pros and fen, but it's still there. It's been there for a while. It's discussed often within our writing circles.

As the predominantly female (with the exception of Ben) staff of North America's oldest SF bookstore, we're also treated to a unique perspective (there have been long discussions around the store about "girl-cooties" and the "Boobies! Oh noes!" reactions we get sometimes). This is also why I think TGHRTW was a Very Bad Thing. As we've seen in the store, SF/F fans run a huge gamut of social abilities, from very articulate and outgoing people you'd never be able to pick out in a crowd as fen, to people who make Comic Book Guy look well-adjusted. There is a subset of fandom who are very, very bad at social interaction, to the point at which they honestly have no idea what to do in a social situation, and who take their cues from the visible professionals within the industry (I was on a panel once that pointed out research linking this kind of functional autism to a propensity to gravitate toward the SF/F fandom -- it was quite fascinating). TGHRTW is not a cue you want them taking.

Reading over the discussion that's emerging now that the initial anger has settled, when you come down to it, this isn't about Harlan. It's about a long-standing and pervasive attitude, especially amongst the Old Guard. Harlan has just provided a very public, "see, this is what we're talking about" example of a much larger problem. TGHRTW is just a catalyst prompting us to do something about it.

And what's going on now, especially on Leah's journal, is that the initial, knee-jerk expressions of outrage are turning to "okay, now we can all see it's a problem. So what are we going to do about it?"

And that's what's really interesting me.

2006-08-31T14:23:00.000-04:00

Fun at the Ex

Yesterday, Karina and I celebrated the first anniversary of Stellar Magpie at the Ex. It was exactly one year ago at the Ex that we first came up with the crazy mixed up idea of starting a jewellery business. And since a woman there literally asked about buying the necklace off my neck, I'm taking it as a sign that we're doing something right.

The Ex itself was great fun. We didn't even make it to the craft building this year -- we spent too much time in the International Building trying on sparkly shawls (bought two), sparkly shoes (bought a pair), looking at sparkly mirrors (bought one for Stellar Magpie displays), and checking out component parts for jewellery (we scored a great set of pearls, and I found some shells and jade turtles). We spent pretty much all of it singing "Snakes on a Plane", too.

There was one moment that kind of stuck out, though. Karina and I had been discussing Harlangate, and about PNH's very valid point that this is not so much about Harlan as about this generation standing up and saying "okay, no more of that." There was a guy at one of the scarf booths I was looking at who, when I showed signs of leaving, grabbed me in what he must have assumed was an affectionate hug and went on about me not buying anything. Now, I am a very touchy-feely person and I love hugging, but all I wanted to do was get away from him. Fast. And he honestly had no idea what he was doing.

But other than that, it was great fun.

Well, aside from the morning sickness. This I find just unfair. The contraceptives I'm on to stop my ovaries from hemmoraging are giving me severe morning sickness. All frelling day. Which make for a very unhappy Sarah.

2006-08-21T10:21:00.000-04:00

Stuff about Cons

Theresa Nielsen Hayden, Sherwood Smith, Michelle, Theresa again, and Elise offer thoughts and advice on cons in general, and Worldcons in particular.

There's a lot of really great information in there. I've heard a lot of pro-con and anti-con arguments, and the strongest anti-con sentiment usually boils down to "going to cons is a waste of time that could be better spent writing / people who are serious about writing don't waste time socializing / so many writers fail to live up to their potential because all their energy goes into cons instead of writing."

Thus, I'd like to point to one thing in particular in Theresa's post last year:

Fiction is fiction, publishing is an industry, but the science fiction community is an old and complex social continuum. You don't have to become a virtual citizen of that virtual commonwealth in order to sell fiction; but if you attend one of their conventions, you're on their turf. The attendees at that convention aren't there to worship science fiction and the people who create it. They're there to see each other, and to talk about SF and fantasy and related subjects. If the only reason you can imagine going to a convention is to promote your career, stay home. The benefits won't repay your cost and effort, and your attitude will irritate the natives.

That's it exactly. I go to cons because I have fun, and get to catch up with friends and geek out about the genre I love. People who go because they think they'll make that magic contact / it'll help them get published are usually going to be disappointed. It's true, cons aren't for everyone. Which is okay. But some people really like going, and have a very good time. Which is okay, too. Avoiding cons is not going to hurt your writing career. Neither will taking weekend off every few months to go hang out with other writers and fans for some really good geekery.

In addition, I'd like to add the following (reposted from Elise's comment section):

Food is very important. It is also often expensive and hard to come by. Time is often scarce. Having a durable and non-perishable snack with you (such as sesame snacks, fruit bars, or meal replacement bars) comes in handy when you're starving and in the middle of a four hour stretch of "must be here" panels.

Also, never underestimate the value of coffee pot oatmeal. Never attempt coffee pot macaroni and cheese.

2006-08-18T22:50:00.000-04:00

Heard on my morning subway ride...

"The next station is Broadview... Broadview station... ... ...there certainly are a lot of us on this train this morning. Strangers all brought together.... but we all have one thing in common... we're all going west. Think about that a moment.... Discuss."

I love it when the subway drivers get bored.

In non-why-I-love-Toronto news, you know those test strips you used in high school biology to determine if you had the gene to taste PTC? The ones which, if you do have the gene, taste absolutely foul (incidentally, the foul-tasting chemical is also found in brussels sprouts)?

I could taste it. And the antibiotic I'm currently on is making my saliva taste just like that.

Ah well. As side-effects go, I've had worse. But it's awkward when you're in the middle of a conversation about dinosaurs with an eight-year-old, and a particularly concentrated dose hits the back of your tongue, making you gag and pull horrible faces.

Speaking of dinosaurs, I had a context-error moment in the dig tonight. I have this thing about context -- I can know you perfectly well, but have trouble recognizing you out of context. I had trouble recognizing Nancy, who I used to work with at the ROM for ages, on the subway; I didn't recognize Nathaniel's sister at the ROM, etc. If I know you from a con, I'll identify you no problem at the con, but have no idea who you are outside of it.

Tonight I was facilitating for a while with a really enthusiastic boy in the dino dig (only slightly manic, as it was crazy insanely busy and the only other person in the dig was on her first shift and still trying to figure out what things are -- it really requires you to be in three places at once -- although at one point on the schedule tonight I was scheduled to be in the dig, on the exit, and on my break at the same time. As I told Charlene, "I'm good, but I'm not that good. Anyway.).

It wasn't until his dad pulled him out and he said "Thank you, Sarah!" that I realized I was talking to Clinton Kenny.

2006-08-16T10:34:00.000-04:00

The Ignoble Collection

So as promised, here is my rant on why The Noble Collection sucks.

About four or five years ago now, whenever it was that the Fellowship of the Ring first came out, the Noble Collection released an Evenstar Pendant.

I fell head over heels in love with the damn thing. I wanted it like I haven't wanted anything else for a very long time. I wanted it soooo badly. But I was dirt poor back then (not that I'm much better off today), and there was no way in hell I could afford the thing.

Enter my awesome friends. Four of them got together and agreed to pay for a significant chunk of the necklace if I paid the rest. I was absolutely thrilled. I was slightly less thrilled when it took multiple tries to just get it over the border. But when it finally arrived, I was ecstatic. Not only because I loved it like no other piece of jewellery I owned, but because it represented how great my friends were and how much they cared.

Not long after, one of the crystals fell out. I was somewhat dismayed, but I took the crystal to the jeweller, had it fixed, and forgot about it.

Fast forward to this year. I opened my jewellery box to put on the pendant, only to discover that another crystal had fallen out. Dismayed, I looked everywhere, but it was nowhere to be found. Not terribly upset yet, I contacted the Noble Collection. Having just received my replacement Knight Rider disks for the ones that didn't work, I didn't anticipate a problem. The Noble Collection was a professional company just like Universal, surely they realized the value of keeping their customers happy by replacing defective merchandise, as Universal does.

Hah.

So I explained the situation to the Noble Collection, and got the following response:

Thank you for your email. We are unable to locate an order in our system for you. Please provide us with the order number or the purchaser's billing information. This will help us assist you better. Thank you and have a great day!!

This being four years later, I no longer had the order number. But I had my billing information for that time, so I passed it on.

Thank you for your email. We are sorry to hear that the stones have fallen our of the pendant. Regretfully, we do not do any repairs and are unable to exchange this item. We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused.

Um… inconvenience? Try "I can't wear your frelling expensive jewellery anymore because it looks like a piece of crap". But I was much politer when I answered, asking if they have a supplier where they get the stones, so that I could order one from them and fix it myself, as I just want to be able to wear it again.

Thank you for your email. We are the manufacture of our products. Unfortunately, we do not have any replacement stones to send out. However, we would be more than happy to offer your a 25% discount on a new pendant. If you wish to purchase a new pendant with a discount please contact our customer service department at 1800-866-0232. Thank you and have a great day!!

Okay, that first part is not exactly what I asked. And yeah. 25% off a bucketload of money is still too much. So I explained that I can't afford to replace the pendant I have already paid for, and asked again if they manufacture the stones too, or if they have a supplier to whom I can go through my own small business to get the stones.

They bumped me up to the manager.

Ms Elliott

We sincerely don't have any crystals we can mail to you.
Patricia Canestra Heenan
Customer Service Manager
The Noble Collection
1 800 866 0232 X 624

So now they're pissy with me, they managed to avoid my question again, and I still am the proud owner of a $125 (Canadian) piece of crap.
I sent what I thought was a fairly reasonable response:

Yes, I do understand that, and my last e-mail was not actually asking you to send me a replacement crystal.

What I'm trying to determine is whether you manufacture the crystals yourself, or whether you order them from a wholesaler that I might subsequently contact. I am a partner in a small jewellery business and am capable of ordering wholesale with our large orders if I know the name of the supplier and preferably the name or number of the component part. My regular supplier here in Toronto does not carry that particular shape of crystal. I have not yet begun contacting wholesalers here and in other cities, as I'm hoping an answer from you will at least narrow my search.

As this is a piece of jewellery I treasured, for aesthetic and personal reasons, and one I cannot afford to purchase twice, I was extremely saddened to discover that it had fallen apart. I hope you can understand why I'm trying to follow every avenue available to me to make it wearable again.

Thank you for your patience,
Sarah

She completely ignored me. I haven't heard from them since.

I now know, from reading on various online forums about the countless other people who've had their Evenstars fall apart, that they're Swarovski crystal navettes. I'm just not sure of the size. This is obviously not a new problem. So surely it can't be that hard for customer service to say "it's a swarovski crystal 15x4 navette, good luck with your search", is it? Oh, but then I wouldn't be giving them more money. Darn.

So, needless to say, I'm less than impressed with the Noble Collection, their "screw the fact you paid already for a defective product, we want more money" customer service policy, and pretty much everyone involved with the company. There was quite a bit of merchandise I actually wanted to order from them too, such as the display case for the Evenstar pendant, which I intended to purchase once my pendant was repaired. But as I've learned my lesson about spending half my week's income on an overpriced piece of crap product that they won't replace when it falls apart, I'll be damned if they're getting any more money from me.

Jerks.

So for the record, let us state right now: If your Stellar Magpie jewellery ever falls apart, we will repair or replace it for you. Unlike some people, we do actually care about our customers.

2006-08-11T12:45:00.000-04:00

Yummy, Yummy, Yummy

Due to a slight miscalculation (or unbridled optimism on my part), my last paycheque was several hundred dollars less than I was expecting. Wups...

So on that note, the Thai food I ordered last night included a big honking thing of steamed rice with my order. I haven't been able to eat steamed rice since that three month stretch in which I could eat nothing but. But I don't want to throw away a load of perfectly good rice. So can anyone suggest something tasty (and inexpensive) I can do with it?

2006-08-10T18:49:00.000-04:00

Meet Sheldon!

Everyone, meet Sheldon.

Sheldon is the most adventurous of our deck cats, and she needs a good home. Sheldon loves to curl up on your lap and purr, and give you kisses.

She likes to play with toys. Including things like string, or a trowel.

She does, you will note, looks something like a cow.

But this little cow is always ready to play.

Sheldon's little brother, Mortimer, needs a home too. Mortimer needs someone very special, with a very big heart. Mortimer is very shy, and he needs to see a vet about his eye (the brown marks on his face are stains from his eye running -- we're trying to get a picture with them cleaned off, but he's hard to catch).

But Sheldon is ready to go home right now. She'll need a trip to the vet for a checkup and her shots, and lots of love, but as you can see, she's waiting for somebody to take her. If you or anyone you know has room in your life for Sheldon, please let me know.

2006-08-05T22:42:00.000-04:00

Submitted with musing...

I found this while ~~not working on the book~~ ego surfing today, from this larger review:

The other novella was Sarah Jane Elliott's "Blood Ties", which I found fairly interesting, indeed promising, but not quite a successful work in itself. It's about a rebellious young woman and her attempts to free a griffin cruelly imprisoned by her basically decent but misguided father. Much of it intrigued me enough to think that Elliott may eventually do pretty strong work, but this particular story doesn't realize its promise.

I think I'm growing up. As little as a year ago, this review would have made me cry. Or at least stamp around in a petulant snit. Now I'm all "cool, I show promise."

Part of it may be what I went through with Christine's writing project on me (still very "hee!" on that one), in which we compared version one, written in 1998, and the current version. I know how much better the published version is than the original take on it. And I admit, when I come to writing the book in five years or so and I rewrite it yet again, I'm very curious to see how that version will compare with this one.

It's also not my favourite of the two from which Julie chose. I'm fonder of "Warmth" than I am of "Blood Ties", largely because by "Warmth", the damage the two of them go through has started to heal, and they're acting more like the characters I know and love, and I think "Warmth" works better as a standalone. But Julie had her own (very good) reasons for choosing this one, and I have no objections.

But I think much of it is that even since "Blood Ties", I've learned more about writing. I'm still growing. I'm still changing. And I've finally come out and admitted that I'm a novel writer, not a short story writer, and looking at it purely objectively, Blood Ties works a lot better when you know where it fits is the grand scheme of the Kichaniverse. At the moment, I'm the only one who really knows where that is.

But I promise it's not going to stay that way.

2006-08-04T11:47:00.000-04:00

On Professionalism

There are certain authors I turn to as examples as how to behave as a professional. You know, in case I ever manage to finish this book (didn't get any work done last night, but I have a good excuse -- I was working on a wedding tiara. Photos going up at Stellar Magpie soonish). Julie Czerneda. Neil Gaiman. Nora Roberts. Certain others.

And then there are those who astound me with their unprofessionalism.

Not even speaking as an author, but speaking as a bookseller who often gets the question "is there any good stuff to read online?" I have a few thoughts. If you are going to put together a professional-quality online magazine, aiming to be the model for short story publishing in the future, there are certain things you can and cannot do.

First, your behaviour does have an effect on your readership. If we lived in a vacuum, no, people would judge the stories you write or edit completely independently of you. But we don't. If you behave in a childish, unprofessional manner, many people aren't going to bother with you or your publication, to the detriment of the authors you edit. And booksellers certainly aren't going to be inclined to recommend you.

The one possible exception to this is Harlan Ellison, but he's Harlan f*cking Ellison. And even he isn't really getting away with it anymore. There are authors (Card, Rice, others) who have lost readers at our store because of their online behaviour. There will always be people who can dissociate your work from your conduct. There may even be people who agree with and applaud said unprofessional behaviour. But they are rarely in the majority, and supporting such behaviour can often lose you the respect of people who formerly admired your work and valued your opinion.

Second, if you ask for feedback and discussion on the stories you edit, it is extremely unprofessional to then mock and ridicule the reviewer. There are many authors and editors who handle bad reviews with grace and dignity, and have turned unhappy readers into regulars because of the decorum with which they conducted themselves (I will always remember the "I'm very glad you were involved enough in this story to care this much" response to a negative review discussed in Julie's newsgroup).

Readers tend to like that kind of response from an author or editor, even if that person's stories or collections got negative reviews, and are more likely to hang around to see if what comes next shows improvement. People will support authors they like, even if their feelings toward that author's work are lukewarm. There is a reason why authors do book tours.

And if you do persist in ridiculing any negative feedback, putting out cries of "why isn't anyone talking about the stories?" makes you look really bad, because it becomes apparent that what you're really saying is "why isn't anyone raving about the stories? Praise me! PRAISE ME!" [/Zim]

Third, delivering backhanded insults to major players in the field of Speculative Fiction and sneering at them as minor authors, whether on not they disagree with you on certain issues, does nothing for you but demonstrate a staggering ignorance of the field in which you are writing and editing. Especially to a bookseller who actually has sales figures in front of her. Which again, does nothing to prompt said bookseller to recommend you to people looking for good online fiction.

Finally, how you conduct yourself in public matters. It doesn't matter if it's in your own editorial pages, at a convention, or in a discussion group run independently of your publication. What you do will ultimately reflect back upon you and what you publish, and if you are an editor, it reflects back upon your authors as well. Writing and publishing does not happen in a vacuum, especially in the age of the internet.

For instance, alt.books.harry-potter has nothing to do with J.K. Rowling or her publisher. And there are often kids (and adults) in there complaining. They don't like that so-and-so died, they hate that Harry is dating *her* instead of the OTPOMG!!!1! They don't get why Rowling writes so slow. They disagree with where the series is going. They don't like that Rowling has a policy of not sending autographs to everyone who writes to her. Etc. etc. etc. "I don't read these books, I think they're stupid and promote witchcraft and everyone who reads them is dumb."

But if someone from the publisher, or Rowling herself showed up in that forum and started cursing the kids out as brainless assholes, why the hell isn't anyone talking about the books, oh wait, you who didn't like the book, you're stupid and you don't get it, I think I'm going to kill off the Patil sisters because of their fucking stupid religion, and you who are complaining can just fuck off and die, I'm brilliant and edgy and those of you who disagree are just too stupid to understand how clever I am…

It wouldn't reflect well on Rowling. Or her publisher. It would hurt her sales. It would certainly disincline me as a bookseller to recommend her work. And that has absolutely nothing to do with whether she or her publisher is professionally connected to alt.books.harry-potter or not.

How you conduct yourself as a professional matters. I'm not going to buy clothes from someone who says people with my body type are fat and ugly. I'm not going to read work authored or edited by someone who calls me (or people I know to be intelligent, thoughtful, and extremely well-read) brainless assholes. And I'm certainly not going to recommend them to anyone else. Especially when I've read better, in print and online.

I'm going to recommend the people who deserve the chance to succeed.

2006-07-30T21:38:00.000-04:00

Not dead...

Just very, very tired. I spent most of Saturday either napping or reading Howl's Moving Castle, trying to recover from a) going into the hospital last weekend, and b) going almost straight from the hospital back into intensive Naturequest field trips. It was totally worth it -- the kids had a great time -- but I'm paying for it a bit now. I'm feeling a lot better, though. I was back to work in the galleries today, and they let me work in Bio, which means I got to sit a lot, so I was fine. Plus, Claire had Advil.

It's going to be weird going back to real life now. Naturequest is only two weeks, but it always seems at once infinite, and over far too fast.

We watched the rest of Doctor Who last Monday. It was absolutely heartbreaking. I still love the show, but damn, did that Finale hurt. But so awesome!!!!! But sad!!!! But OOh it's HIM! And THEM! And LOOK WHO THEY'RE FIGHTING ::dies of geekery::

Karina and I have determined we can't participate in the pirate festival this year -- it's just not feasable. So instead, we're having a Tenth Kingdom marathon and making jewellery. Hurrah!

Enter the Haggis has released a new album, which is keeping me company as I attempt to rediscover my room beneath what I have come to learn is "prep-explosion" -- a thing that happens every time I do a ROM Kids program. You can listen to the entire album online here, and I strongly suggest you do. There's a reason they're my favourite band.

My younger cousin Erin also just had a baby. They named her Nevaeh (pronouced "Na-VAY") Angel (though Simon had a thing or two to say about the implications of a name that is "Heaven" spelled backward). She's Simon's age (Erin, not the baby). I admit, I always thought I'd be the first cousin to have kids. But I'm also nowhere near at a point in my life at which I'm ready for them. I haven't seen Erin in a long time. My family is having a hard time dealing with it, to the point at which the last I heard of the baby, it was just a rumour, so I have to say the delivery took me as something of a surprise. My family has been drifting apart lately, and as we used to be very close when I was younger, this upsets me a bit. I don't know what's going on with half my cousins lately, I haven't spoken with Erin in years, and every time I try to mend bridges with one branch of my family, I find another has fallen apart in the meantime. I wish my head was in a state at which I could really address this, but I'm definitely too orangey to deal with it now.

That's it for my rambly thoughts at the moment. Go listen to Haggis and wonder at the coolness that is "The Alchemist".

2006-07-14T09:16:00.000-04:00

Ummm.... Where Did the Week Go?

Trek was a week ago? Seriously? Damn.

So a Stellar Magpie con report is coming soon, as soon as Karina and I have a chance to sit down on MSN for more than two minutes together. I've been running around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to finalize things for the start of Naturequest next week, and in and around other things, managed to see Pirates of the Caribbean (SO AWESOME!) and cut all my hair off.

So in lieu of actual content today, may I present the pilot of The Amazing Screw-on Head? I liked Hellboy a lot, which is why I checked this out, and I would be fairly indifferent toward it were it not for the presence of David Hyde Pierce as Emperor Zombie. If you want to make anything awesome, just make David Hyde Pierce evil.

2006-07-06T09:31:00.000-04:00

Arrrr!

I have ROM photos to post at some point, and my MYST adventures on the viaduct, but I'm still frantically working on Trek stock (some updates at Stellar Magpie's journal), so in the meantime, I leave you with dancing pirates. Because, come on. Dancing pirates!

(via Cleolinda)

2006-07-02T12:33:00.000-04:00

Perky is my superpower

Okay, first off, Superman Returns was awesome! Spoilery things commence.

I've heard a few people complaining about certain things, and even the people I went with liked it as a whole, with a few quibbles, but I didn't share them. One of the biggest critiques in one of the reviews I read, the Superman-as-Jesus parallels, went right over my head. But then, I'm also the one who had to be told that Narnia is not just about four kids and a lion.

I had a hell of a good time, and in my opinion, this was everything X-Men 3 should have been (thank you Bryan Singer). Brandon Routh was excellent, I loved how he's one of the few Supermen who is decidedly different from Superman to Clark, and his channelling of Christopher Reeve was positively eerie at times.

I loved how much homage was paid to the original movie, I loved Kevin Spacey stealing every scene he was in. Parker Posey, who I usually don't like in anything not directed by Christopher Guest, was surprisingly good too. And I loved that I actually liked James Marsters in this movie (which did make us wonder if this is why Cyclops got such short shrift in X3). I really enjoyed what they did with Richard. Usually, a character like his, in competition with Superman, would either have some sort of flaw (either being a jerk or a wuss), or be destined for a tragic death to get him out of the way. Richard was neither, and that really, really impressed me.

I loved the scene of Jason with the garbage can on his head, because that was just such a kid thing to do.

The whole movie had me grinning like an idiot for pretty much the entire time (when I wasn't crying), and I can't wait to see it again.

So I'm in a very good carryover mood this morning. It's another slow day, so I've instigated a project and gotten the volunteers involved. We're putting together a "Dinosaurs in my Backyard" display using a lot of the extra bird resources we have that never get used, and I'm really excited about it.

Days like this, I really love my job.

2006-07-01T16:31:00.000-04:00

Happy Canada Day!

Happy Canada Day everybody! (Or, as we're calling it at the ROM today, Happy Time-and-a-half Day!)

Kidding aside, it's been a very slow day here at the museum, as everyone seems to be doing other things. And well they should -- I went outside for lunch, and it's an absolutely gorgeous day for a picnic. I imagine lots of people will be at Ontario Place today in preparation for the fireworks, if they haven't gone out of town to the cottage already. And it seems everyone who came in to Toronto was here last night, leaving today very empty.

Sabrina and I have been keeping ourselves busy. We changed the articles in the kiosk, I played with the gecko for a while with a very charming 8-year-old British exchange student, and we made a temporary bulletin board display about Canada Day. It's gone through several iterations, as our original instructions weren't terribly clear, but now that people can post drawings of their favourite Canadian place, animal, plant, activity, food, or sport, there's a bit more going on. Which is good, because my three cottage drawings were getting lonely (I'll try to get pictures tomorrow -- I'm rather proud of them, especially my bear-in-a-tree).

Chris, Leah, Kel and I are going to see Superman tonight once I get off work, which is going to make this a very good Canada Day.

I'm reminded on days like today why I love this country so much. I know in light of the whole dolphin girl thing, many people have asked me why I didn't choose a career working with dolphins, and while the sheer insane competitiveness was definitely a contributor (as was my inability to get NSERC funding), another very large part of it is that in order to make a living working with dolphins, I would have to move out of Canada.

And I'm just not willing to do that. Not even for dolphins. I love it here.

2006-06-30T15:36:00.000-04:00

And It Was Called Yellow

I got a rejection from Realms of Fantasy the other day.

It's yellow.

With a handwritten note on it.

I'm moving up in the world!

2006-06-30T10:30:00.000-04:00

Who Will Buy?

It's a good day. I just found out I get Monday off (three day weekend, yay! Well, Monday is the beginning of my long weekend and then end of pretty much everybody else's, but still). And I just discovered Starbucks' pomegranate frappuccino.

See, I've long had a love for Starbucks Tiazzi. For those that don't remember it, it was essentially fruit puree, tea, and ice chucked in a blender, but it was really, really good. They had wildberry and mango. Then they discontinued it, and I was sad.

Then the Second Cup introduced Tiamo, which was pretty much the same thing, and I was happy. Then they changed the name of it to "fruit smoothie" and started making it with Italian Soda, which was absolutely disgusting, and I was sad.

Now Starbucks has this "frappuccino juice blend", which is the newest name for fruit, tea, and ice in a blender, and it is good. Not as good as Tiazzi was, and still hideously overpriced as are all things Starbucks, but pretty damned tasty. You'd think I'd just make the damn thing myself at home, but I'm afraid of what the ice cubes will do to our blender.

2006-06-26T11:37:00.000-04:00

Happy, Take 2

Some time back, I posted a link about random things that make me happy, which included the bouncy-balls-down-the-streets-of-San-Francisco commercial, and the "Dancin'" video by Matt Harding, in which he attempts to dance on every continent.

I love this video. Quite a lot.

I recently learned that a corporate sponsor contacted him and sent him around the world again. There is a new video of his travels. It makes me just as happy.

2006-06-24T22:40:00.000-04:00

A Long Night's Walk Across the Viaduct

I don't know what it is, or where it came from, but out of nowhere comes the voice that tells me not to get on the subway as I stand in front of Wellesley Station. So I bid farewell to my sibling and his friends (one of whom, a student I tutored when he was just a boy, now a grown man making a life for himself) and make the long walk home across the viaduct.

My path takes me up Church, through a sea of smiling faces, and as I wade through the rainbow of people, men in leather, women in the same, men in underwear, women in the same, men bedecked in gowns that range from the outragelously camp to the sublimely stunning, as I walk through the sea of people who radiate a current of sheer joy, I can't help but think how proud I am of the city.

I reach Bloor and turn toward home, the sun hanging low in the sky, and find myself walking past a forest I've never seen before. And I know I should be watching the sidewalk, but my head remains fixed to the side, wondering what's down there. And as if in answer to my thoughts, the forest opens to reveal a small wooden path stretching away into the shadows of the trees, and for a moment I'm tempted to leave everything behind, and leave the beaten path, just to find out what's down there.

But that's an adventure for another day.

I pass over Rosedale Valley Road, for a moment mistaking it for the Viaduct, and I see a tunnel stretching across the road, emerging from the forest on one side to disappear into the other, and for a moment I feel as though I've wandered into Myst, until I realize that this must be how the subway reaches the viaduct. I've only ever seen it from below.

It's funny how a change in perspective can alter an entire world.

And finally, I reach the Viaduct itself, the sunlight shinging on the net they built to catch the jumpers.

I've never walked across it before.

So I start across, and look down as I reach the Don River, once the heart of the city, nearly destroyed and now being brought back from the dead, and the trees follow the liquid artery as it winds through the massive valley it has cut through this land over the course of centuries. An island of life in the middle of the sea of concrete.

And I meet the eyes of the people I pass, and we smile at each other, as a heron flies past below us.

I hear the rumble of the subway, shaking the ground beneath my feet, the growl of a discontented troll, and the cables beside me sing out in response. In welcome or in warning, I can't tell. I don't speak the language.

Trip-trap.

And I think back on the day, and on the number of people I talked to who left my gallery smiling. On the happy discovery that they're raising my salary next month. On the accidental creation of something beautiful on my lunch hour. On dinner with my sibling as he arrived to join the party and celebrate the beautiful person within himself.

It smells like rain. I look up at the cloudless sky, and only then realize that the street cleaner is passing by, and wonder how long I've recognized the scent of warm, wet concrete as the smell of rain.

And then the net runs out, and I'm at the end of the viaduct. It's the time of night that would have seen my hometown safely tucked in bed, but my Danforth, my neighbourhood, is still bright with life and laughter. And I know I haven't even been walking that long, because the subway has only stirred the troll once, though it seems an eternity. Perhaps because it's the kind of night that makes me think. And muse.

And freewrite.

And perhaps because I stepped on to the Viaduct in daylight, and it was night when I stepped off.

I pass over a grate, and smell the subway. And smell the grass around me. And realize how much I miss just walking.

So I turn on to the side streets, and wander may way through their warren until I come to my house from a side I've never seen before. And realize that the neighbours on the side I never pass by have really great bookshelves.

And as I let myself in the door, I realize that it's been a very good day.

2006-06-23T12:40:00.000-04:00

Well, that was unexpected!

I can't remember when I last posted an accounting of the myriad part-time jobs I'm working, but for those who need the Cliff's notes version, here's the rundown:

Writer.

Stellar Magpie -- co-owner.

Hostel -- Administrative Assistant: 3 days/week

Bakka-Phoenix Books -- Store Associate: event and relief staff

ROM -- Gallery Facilitator, Hands-on Galleries: weekends and holidays

ROM -- ROM Kids Instructor: Seasonal, Saturday mornings/two-weeks in summer

ROM -- Digital Gallery Facilitator: I have no idea yet.

Of the ROM jobs, none are permanent -- all are contract positions, with the Hands-On position being renewed yearly. The Saturday Morning Club/Summer Club I do only during certain sessions, so it's on-and-off. The Digital Gallery is the newest one, and nobody seems to be able to tell me what my job is or how many hours I may potentially be working yet, even though I've already started instructing. The Digital stuff will be few and far between for the next little while, but I'm allegedly going to be giving tours and doing Monday morning stuff and lots more Digital in September.

So I got an e-mail from Sharilynn, out of the blue yesterday. They're making my Hands-On position permanent.

This, in the midst of the exciting-yet-terrifying, on-again-off-again, may-end-at-any-time, uncertainty that constitutes the rest of my employment tapestry, made me very, very happy.

2006-06-22T10:06:00.000-04:00

Yes, That's It!

That's it exactly!

I've been trying to find a way to express why, even though I adored Christopher Eccleston during his run as the Doctor, I'm now much more interested in David Tennant's Doctor.

And the Chocolate Theory of Doctors sums it up exactly.

God, I love this show.

2006-06-15T19:41:00.000-04:00

Best. Present. Ever.

Okay, if anybody is looking to get a six-month jump on my birthday present (hey, it could happen), I would really, really like to be Lady Sarah of Lochaber.

Just saying.

2006-06-15T09:43:00.000-04:00

Whatever happened...?

Whatever happened to customer service?

Transferring services for the move has been one problem after another. First, the cable guy shows up at my house, attempts to run a cable across the fireplace before I ask him nicely to run it up and over the mantle instead, tries to tell me I didn't order a PVR, then tells me he forgot it and he'll be back by 5, then tells me he won't be back by 5 but will be back tomorrow, then tells me he has no idea when he'll be back and I'm better off walking to a Rogers Video and getting the damn thing myself.

Then Bell doesn't disconnect my frelling phone, which I only discover when work tries to call me and finds that there's no "this number has been changed" ping, which I paid for.

Then the carpet cleaner comes in and gives us a price that's way too high, based on a 30-second look at our house. Then I measure the square footage and find he's overcharging us by about $35, and he gets really shirty when I try to tell him this. Then we discover that he's actually charging us the broadloom-with-furniture price, and the open-space price (this is before we moved anything in) is $.10 less per square foot. He got really mad and told us that we don't get to determine the price, finally gave it to us for the right price, then left in a huff. Feeling bad, we called the company, confirmed that it actually was the right price, and asked the company to thank him for giving it to us. They were really surprised, and said that people call to complain, but nobody ever calls to commend the servicemen.

Then I discover a significant amount of butter in the carpet, left there, God knows how or why and I really don't want to, by the previous tenants. I called the company back to ask them how to get it out, and was told that it should not still be there, that I paid $100 to have it cleaned and it's damn well going to be cleaned, and the company arranges to send the guy back.

He calls me the day he's supposed to come back and tells me he won't make it. So I hurry back from Newmarket the next day so I'll be there to meet him.

He looks at the stain and says "What's the problem? It's butter, that's grease, it won't come out. I saw that spot when I was here before and it wasn't that big. (I explain that no, the carpet's damp because I just dumped more spot cleaner on it) Well you did things without knowing what you were doing and now you made it worse! What do you want me to do?"

I explain, nicely, that I'd like him to get the butter out. That I don't care about stains, as long as there is no actual, physical, butter left in my carpet (I was scraping it out by the handful at one point). He does it, and when he finishes, snaps at me "I never should have done this job in the first place. It's been too many problems already."

Now seriously. You don't get to do that. Up until that point, I felt kind of sorry for him, but when your company says you didn't do the job right and sends you back to fix it, you do not get to insult the customer, who just wants the frelling pound of butter out of her carpet.

I think Erin even sent him a tip, too.

2006-06-12T15:17:00.000-04:00

WOOT!

This just in from Julie:

Remember ForeWord Magazine had listed FC as a finalist for their Book of the Year Award? Results to be announced at Book Expo America?

Well, we took Silver in the Science Fiction/Fantasy category! Go us! There will, I'm told (less confusingly) now be a foil embossed seal to go on the books shipped. I'll see if I can get some for the authors for their copies.

Yay for us! I'm now in an award-winning book!

2006-06-12T10:05:00.000-04:00

Tips on Surviving Romanian Hospitality

During this insanely busy weekend, in amongst the final day of Saturday Morning Club (my reviews so far are coming back really good) and my sibling's birthday, plus various and sundry unpacking madness, was Alexandra's Toronto wedding. Which I missed, owing to the aforementioned final day of SMC, but I made it to the reception.

Alexandra and Paco are one of the most adorable couples I've ever seen, and I'm so happy for them. And Alexandra's lovely parents provided the food for the reception. In vast quantities. It was wonderful food, but as I almost forgot, having only rarely experienced Alexandra's parents' bountiful hospitality, you must take only a little of everything.

You think I'm kidding? This was the lineup:

First course: Assorted lovely cheeses, grapes, and empanada-like things.
Second course: 5 pounds of grilled scallops (there were about 14 of us).
Third course: 6 pounds of grilled shrimp
Fourth course: Homemade bread
Fifth course: Two massive platters of barbeceued chicken and pork, two large platters of sliced and roasted potatoes, two salads, and another side dish which is slipping my mind at the moment.
Sixth course: Creme brulee
Seventh course: Apple cake, strudel, cookies, and a cakey thing involving chocolate, cream, and nuts.

Yeah, it was a lot of food. And you can't pass up any of it, or you'll have one or both of her parents commanding you to eat, or her father pouting because you won't. Which means you end up eating everything, because her parents are so nice that you feel really bad about abstaining. :o)

I'm so happy for Alexandra and Paco (and so proud of her wedding jewellery -- her mother told me the tiara held up admirably!).

2006-06-05T10:00:00.000-04:00

Touchdown!

We have moved.

It was arduous. But not nearly as much as it could have been. And the old house looks like a bomb went off. But the new house, though full of boxes and things, is glorious.

I have the best friends in the whole wide world. Thanks again to Chris, Karina, and Alice, without whom I never could have made it, both for their heroic help in schlepping things, and for being there when the force of my family's combined personalities got a bit overwhelming and I needed a hug.

Thanks to Erin's parents for the couch and dining room table and chairs. Thanks to my parents for the air conditioner and the memory foam mattress (which is still inflating on my dining room floor), to my Aunt Jen and Uncle Richard for the lamps, to my sibling and his friends for bringing the muscle, and to everyone for providing transportation.

Erin and I woke up early on Sunday morning, still wired up from the move. We lay there for a while, occasionally making noises at the cats, and each of us could tell the other was awake. Finally, from Erin's room, I hear "Isn't it nice to be waking up to birdsong instead of the streetcar and people yelling?"

Which is it exactly.

We love the new house. When we went to sleep, it was so quiet. The Danforth is only one street away, but we couldn't hear the traffic. We had dinner at our new dining room table and couldn't stop giggling.

Yesterday, we made a trip to Ikea, and discovered the adventure of trying to get two large shelves home when you just can't get a seat on the dinky Ikea shuttle and decided to walk back to the subway station. Up a hill and through a forest. And then end up at the automated turnstyle subway entrance and have to feed the shelves through the exit gates. And we came home, and it felt like home. And once we get everything unpacked, we know it will stay home (and clean!).

Oh, there are a few unexpected surprises. The last people to have my room managed to spill butter on the carpet, which I noticed yesterday (after the carpet cleaner had been through), as there is still a LARGE amount of butter in the carpet. I'm calling the cleaners back to see if there's anything they can do. And someone keeps parking in our garage.

But aside from these few setbacks, we love the house. And we're going to be so happy there.

2006-06-01T09:27:00.000-04:00

Packing in My Underpants

What's worse than moving? Moving in 32 degree heat, when your attic bedroom is approaching something closer to 40. Yes, this whole week past I have actually been wearing as little as possible while packing (yes, the blinds were closed), because it was just that damn hot. As evidenced by the heatstroke I got while attempting to paint my dresser. Thank goodness the heat seems to be breaking for the actual moving day.

Steve is gone, and we're leaving this weekend. I'm trying desperately to pack up everything, and getting ruthless with what I am and am not keeping. I'm also madly trying to wash all the clothes I own and packing them up with mothballs. We don't want to transfer ANY of our current infestation to the new house.

Speaking of, I've updated the virtual tour. Now with Erin's crazy closet and our kickass dining room table.

2006-05-26T11:16:00.000-04:00

Just Me and the Ghosts

My new bedroom is blue. A very Sarah blue. And oddly, not the same blue it's been for the last ten years. I went with a new shade, because in the new house, China Blue just doesn't work.

I was at the new house last night until about 10 or so, painting. Alone. In a house in which I haven't yet learned the neighbour protocols. So I was standing there just after the sun went down, putting the second coat on the closet. I'd been hearing voices from odd places all day, as conversation filtered up and down (there are people above and below us now) when I heard "hello?" from inside the apartment.

I got out of the closet and looked around. Nobody there.

I went back in the closet, and this time heard a man's voice calling from the back of the house. Getting seriously freaked now, I locked the doors. A few minutes later, I heard banging at the front door. Scared out of my wits at this point, I opened it, armed with... well, a wet paintbrush. But I can wield a mean paintbrush.

"Hi," chirped our downstairs neighbour. "We just wanted to let you know that the garage is yours after this weekend."

I love New House. But we really need to do something about the doorbell.