Good For You, Self!

You did not give in to temptation and slink off to see “Oblivion”!  No, you stayed home, and saved $7.  Not only that, you saved two hours of your life which were instead spent on:

  • Catching up with old friends.  You found an e-mail from Beth Alvarado.  Which was just so, so –  zen, because you had just been in the Stanford Creative Writing Program yesterday, attending a colloquium with T. C. Boyle (T.C., why are you so hip?  What gives you the right to be so hip?  How can you be a famous author and not be an ass?  How?  How?  How?  Is it your red converse sneakers and the black suit and the hair that probably at one time used to be a mullet?) and it would have been a terrible waste of the energy flow from that event to see a movie like “Oblivion.”
  • You got to try to get son off from jury duty.  That is, you called the San Mateo County Courthouse on his behalf and explained that on the date in question, son would be in Claremont, receiving his Masters diploma.  And the lady said, “Fine.  I’ll move his date to the following week.”  To which self really had no rejoinder.  Well, actually, she did attempt a rejoinder but the lady cut her off and said, “Ma’am, this is the second postponement.  By now he should know what his summer plans are!” Self meekly subsided.
  • You got to hear the mail landing in the mailbox.  And you were then able to see that you had a form rejection (from Colere) and an announcement of winners of the Sarabande Book Prize and were informed that IF you were a finalist, the entry fee for next year’s contest would be waived, so you thought that you were a finalist, until you read the names of the finalists.  What is the point of sending a letter saying IF you are this, then you won’t have to pay a fee to join the contest next year, when there are only three finalists and the letter was probably sent to EVERYBODY?
  • You got to do more web research on your favorite characters from “Game of Thrones” :  Jaime Lannister (You finally realized you’d been mis-spelling his name forever), and Brienne of Tarth.  And you found this fascinating interview between Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (Self can’t believe she actually spelled that correctly), and Rolling Stone.  NC-W says quote unquote:  I’m sorry, I’m going in circles.  You were asking about Brienne and I’m talking about Jaime!  To which interviewer responds quote unquote:  It’s very Jaime of you.  To which NC-W responds quote unquote:  We should have Gwen on the phone.  It’d be more fun.

See, this is the reason why watching Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth on “Game of Thrones” is so much fun:  there’s this on-going banter between two people who respect each other, one of whom just happens to be a man.  And maybe Brienne, the woman, really wishes she were a man as well.  The man’s good looks are completely incidental to the relationship, and the woman’s plain-ness is incidental as well.  Holy Cow!  Did you catch that smokin’ hot tub scene in Episode 5?  When Brienne stood up from the water where she’d been just moments earlier simpering like a blushing bride and displayed herself to Jaime in all her earthly glory (from the back, but her curves were evident), and the guy was just — mesmerized?  As were we, the viewers?

Until the fight on the bridge episode (Episode 2?), which was the last one self saw before leaving for Venice, self’s favorite character on “Game of Thrones” was Daenerys.  But –  no more!  Give her Brienne’s awkward ungainliness any time!

So, given that self had skipped watching approximately three weeks’ worth of “Game of Thrones,” she could be forgiven for wondering why Jaime Lannister was wearing that hand on a rope around his neck.  She didn’t realize it was his own hand until some bandit began ridiculing him about it.  Then it was — GASP! –  Holy Major Plot Development!  As some other person on the web said (You see?  Self really HAS been all over the web this afternoon!):  Jaime.  Oh, Jaime.  I really hope you’re ambidexterous.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

The Cherry Tree

The cherry tree in the backyard started blooming a few days ago.

Started blooming this weekend

Self is preparing for a busy week gardening!

Other beginnings:  Put aside The Black Count without finishing.  Began devouring Anna Karenina.  Took advantage of HBO’s $10/month enrollment offer, just in time to watch the premiere episode of the BBC adaptation of Ford Madox Ford’s World War I trilogy, Parade’s End (this Tuesday, 9 p.m. — just before Justified).

Tuesdays will be self’s Red Letter Day for the next five weeks!

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

The Bad Travel Experience To End All Bad Travel Experiences

The bad travel experience of all bad travel experiences has happened again.  This time, to another set of hapless cruise travelers.  The line is Carnival, the cruise operator is British, and

  • There were only five working bathrooms for 3,000 people.
  • No one could leave the ship while it was being towed to Mobile, Alabama.
  • People ended up having to do their business in plastic baggies and leaving the baggies outside their cabin doors for collection.

Wasn’t it not so long ago that a cruise ship sank after hitting rocks just off the coast of Italy?

Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction:  The name of the cruise ship with the 3000 stranded passengers was the Carnival Triumph.

If self had written a story about 3000 people being stranded on a cruise ship with only five working bathrooms, and had decided to name her ship Triumph, people would have said:  That writer is being satirical!

After this, self is never ever ever ever going to go on a cruise.  No, never.  Wild horses couldn’t drag etc.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

Reading Prism International 51:1 (Fall 2012) and The Greensboro Review 91 (Spring 2012)

Self wrote a new story this morning.  1,000 words.  She decided to call it “The Forest.”

Then, she dug once again into her Pile of Stuff.  Surfaced with Prism International, Fall 2012.  Opened to the first piece, which happened to be a poem by Kathryn Dillard:

COME BY HERE

But just as you feel uncertain
of solitude, it keeps you solid.

Oh, self absolutely loved that!

Then, self decided she might as well try another journal, any attempt to reduce the Pile of Stuff is good!  She pulled out The Greensboro Review, No. 91 (Spring 2012). She flipped through the pieces, stopped at a poem by Ramola D that began:

Marking the Fields
for Ned Tanis, 1970 – 1998

For a long time I told myself
I would never write about his death
because it was his death,
I could not use it. I wanted
to keep myself
from becoming
someone I could not recognize,
someone to whom
life or death was merely
subject.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Currently Showing in the Redwood City Century 20: Indicators

Self thinks this is ridiculous, but there was a time she refused to watch anything showing in the downtown Century 20, as a matter of principle.

Eventually, however, self’s resolve weakened.   The movie that served as her initiation to the wonders of the Cineplex was either a) Blood Diamond; b) The Illusionist; or c) Apocalypto

Since then, she’s become quite the regular.

Self now has plenty of time on her hands (now that she has decided to be less impulsive and travel less).  As a consequence, she can spends hours in useless contemplation of the schedule of movies currently showing.

And she has formulated a theory, which goes:

If the number of screens a movie is showing on is small, then that movie will soon be gone.

Exhibit A:  Argo.  Today, when self looks up showtimes, she discovers that Argo is down to just four screenings.

Things do not bode well, either, for Gerard Butler’s new movie, Chasing Mavericks, which, despite the fact that it has just opened, is showing on just five screens.  (Contrast that with The Twilight Saga:  Breaking Dawn, Part 2, which is showing on 17 screens)

Looper is still showing, which is WOW!  AMAZING!  Seeing as it opened sometime September or October.

Taken 2 is also still showing, which shows it is possible to survive abysmal reviews.  Or maybe it just means that Liam Neeson is a Box Office Draw.

Self told The Man when she was still in Bacolod that Argo was a movie she definitely wanted to see.  And it looks like she’ll have to watch it tomorrow, as it may be gone by next weekend.  Self is quite amazed about this because even in Bacolod it sounded like such a winner.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

How Self Spent the Last Sunday of October 2012

All that remains of Cactus Hall, in Santa Fe Resort, Barangay Granada, Bacolod

Just another weekend in a sleepy, provincial city!

Self spent the morning in Santa Fe Resort.  She poked around among the cottages, got a peep inside the “Oscar Villas” (Very nice!) and had some tanguingue with rice with brewed coffee.  She certainly wasn’t hungry, but the way self sees it, there are only two ways to go:  One, she can continue losing weight as she did (drastically), her first week here.  Her driver disappeared (paid off, ha ha ha, by her loving familia:  she hopes he is rich now and able to buy his own punong) and that was quite an unpleasant surprise.

Or, two, she could force herself to regain her former appetite and return to a semblance of her usual rotundity.  She of course chose the latter route.  It is best not to attract notice by shrinking to half one’s size in one week.  Especially since she had the misfortune to acquire a seriously disfiguring black eye, only her second night in Bacolod, and gossip was going around here, there and everywhere (Exhibit A:  Chef Guido at the Negros Museum Café, overwhelmed with curiosity only 30 seconds after meeting her:  “How’d you get the black eye?”)

Anyhoo, self ordered the tanguingue, produced by a very excited chef (Junior, self thinks his name was), and since she ordered it, she of course had to eat it.  With rice.  And then the coffee.  And then she could hardly sit up straight, her jeans were so tight.

Never mind!  Self did get to see the ruins of Cactus Hall, which used to be the venue for elegant parties, with all the prettiest belles of Bacolod, including Dearest Mum (The first time she came, everyone seemed to want to call forth memories of her Dear Departed Dad.  As her presence has grown more and more familiar, however, now everyone seems to want to call forth memories of her Dearest Mum)

Then self returned to her hotel, just in time to avoid a really thunderous downpour.  Then she went to the Salon one floor up, to be healed by yet another “blow-dry” (Her hair is now moussed and hairsprayed to the max.  If her hair were longer, her “do” might begin to resemble Imelda’s beehive).  Then she tried to call Philippine Airlines.  Then she called her home in California, and The Man picked up.  Upon learning when self would be returning home (When self left, she kept the date “open”), he said:  “No one will come trick or treating because there are no Halloween decorations up.  You are going to have to eat every single last piece of candy you bought.”  Since self bought 4 lbs. of Snickers and Milky Way bars, that is quite a daunting prospect, dear blog readers.  But self has no compunction about gaining weight in California.  For one thing, over there, she has no social life.  She could go around 24/7 in a duster and flip-flops, and weigh 250 lbs., and no one would notice.  Oh, the wonders of America!  All you have to do is breathe the air and, self swears, you gain five pounds!

Then she went to 18th Street Pala-Pala and ordered a dozen fresh oysters, and specified she wanted them grilled with plenty of garlic.  She ate everything in something like 10 minutes.  They were teensy oysters, not the behemoths she had last March, in Punta Taytay.  She made the waiter swear she would not get an upset stomach by eating so many oysters in one go.  He kept nodding and smiling encouragingly.

Now she is going to try and catch a ride to the airport so that she can change her damn ticket and head back home in time to vote for Obama. (On second thought:  she took one look at the driver and she just could not imagine herself making small talk all the way to the Bacolod Airport and back.  No offense, dear driver, but self has been chattering like a magpie with sundry curious people, since early this morning.  She decided to pursue the ticket change thing tomorrow.  So now she is once again ensconced in her room, wondering what that brown bug with the two twitchy antennae is, the one that’s crawling down the white blinds at this very moment.  It doesn’t seem to be a cockroach, which is a relief.  On the other hand, self hates the thought of falling asleep and having the unknown bug crawling on top of her and perhaps taking a bite out of her while she is unconscious.  She stops blogging to hunt around for a slipper to smack the brown bug with, but by the time she has armed herself, the bug has disappeared.  Eeeek!  It might even have crawled up to her bed!)

Oh!  Self almost forgot:  This morning, she shot her first handgun with live rounds.  There was a terrific noise, and because she was holding the gun very limply when she fired it, the weapon ricocheted and she cut her thumb.  Why does everything have to happen to self?

Well, at least she hasn’t killed herself, yet.  Which is something The Man is constantly telling her she will do, one of these days.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

Krakauer vs. Mortenson

Thank you, Kyi, for alerting self to the charges against Three Cups of Tea subject, Greg Mortenson.

Self decided to investigate, and she did come up with a whole pile of dirt.  “60 Minutes” lays out in detail the charges by Jon Krakauer (whose book, Into the Wild, self was about to read after she finished Three Cups of Tea, but which she’ll now put aside, because she’ll be thinking about this controversy while she’s reading Krakauer, and anyhoo the subject of Krakauer’s book dies, as self very well knows, and she really doesn’t want to read anything too depressing, especially now that the holidays are approaching and the days are getting short.  And gloomy.  In other words, onwards!).

Then she thinks:  gee, it’s too bad.  The book was as gripping as a novel (but perhaps, that is why it is gripping, because it is a novel!  Only, a novel pretending to be a memoir!  And told in the third person, yet!  By a bona fide journalist!)

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

New Mantra, For the Rest of 2012

You can die from someone else’s misery.

You can die from someone else’s misery.

You can die from someone else’s misery.

Self will not die from someone else’s misery.

Self will not die from someone else’s misery.

Self will not die from someone else’s misery.

Quidditch team news:  Let’s see if self can do a quick scan of her memory.  Richard the Canadian is traveling (without leaving the confines of Canada).  Jenny the Oxford Professor and Poet is in Oxford (of course) as the term has begun.  Joan is being very industrious and writer-ly because she has not written.  Marylee is doing very intensive research for her novel in Paris (Would that self had done the same when she was in Paris, instead of wandering the city like a lonely waif, in search of that damn Louvre!  Which turned out to be as big as a Mountain!).  Allison is teaching a summer writing course in Oklahoma.  She sent a couple of pictures from her apartment, and it looked as if there were actually palm trees growing in the parking lot (of this place in Oklahoma), will wonders never cease?

Bella’s nails are growing awfully long.

Self really is developing quite a fascination with Tom Hardy.

The new Will Ferrell movie has a scene with 27 Filipino staff on a cruise liner.  One day, self must take a cruise for the purposes of interviewing the Filipino staff.  This is her firm resolution.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

Special About 2012

After many years of trying, she finally got a piece picked up by Alimentum.

She finally joined the Barnes & Noble Rewards Program (though she’s been in and out of her local branch for something like 20 years)

The New Orleans Review took “Thing,” her story about mutant pigs and strangelings.

She has joined contests (8 so far)

She decided not to let her subscription to The New York Times Book Review lapse.

She extended her New Yorker subscription for one more year.

She read with Kazim Ali, Garrett Hongo, David Henry Hwang, Bao Phi, Marie Myung-Ok Lee and Anna Kazumi Stahl in the National Portrait Gallery.  Also:  she met the three funniest gals it was ever her pleasure to meet and had drop-dead delicious gelato.  Also, big big thanks to Lawrence, Gerard and Terry.  Also, she saw the Ford Theater (where President Lincoln was shot) and went into at least three Smithsonian museums (with the husband).  She even went to Georgetown one day and had lunch with an old friend.

She spoke to Margarita D who told her about her plan to go to Venice, early next year (Self volunteered to come along!)

She went to India.  And saw the Golden Temple at Amritsar.  And heard monks chanting deep in a forest.  And made the acquaintance of the Colonel, Pratibha, an incorrigibly rambunctious Labrador, and the two brothers who manage the Snowcrest Inn in Dharamsala (Would you believe, the inn is owned by a fifty-something Malaysian woman?)  All the time self was in India, she never experienced a sick moment.

“The Avengers” movie came out, and she liked it.

She spent the entire month of March in Bacolod.  Zack joined her for the last week.

She took Niece G to the Asian Art Museum and had lunch at Brenda’s.

Niece G gifted her with a lb. of coffee from Philz.

Son and Jennie came for a visit; we had dinner at Max’s Restaurant with Kramer and Niece G.  We went to a Jean Paul Gaultier exhibit at the de Young.  We went to the Japanese Tea Garden and had mochi.  Kevin F came over with his guitar on son’s last night and sang many beautiful songs for us.

She finally got her hands on a paperback copy of the Final Report of the 9/11 Commission, which was published in 2004.  It is a really hefty book:  she’ll read it on the plane to London.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

Facebook: To Buy or Not to Buy, That is the Question

Self is reading a Wall Street Journal that is over a week old.  So the following information is probably out of date.  But when the nice young man who cut self’s hair last Thursday (and made her look pretty, for all of one day) wondered aloud whether he should or should not invest in shares of Facebook, self felt she must pause to consider this phenomenon.

Much as she understands how really nice it would be if Mark Zuckerberg became a billionaire before he turns or has turned 28, she thinks it behooves dear blog readers to weigh carefully the pros and cons of whether or not to invest in Facebook stock.  And that is where an article like the one self read just now, in the Wall Street Journal, can be of immense help.

The article’s title is:  REASONS TO BUY FACEBOOK, AFTER THE HYPE FADES

Of course, everyone wants the latest piece of technology.  Why d’you think self caved in and, over seven months after turning in her HTC Droid to Verizon and going back to using her plain old cell phone, she yesterday went back for more and purchased an iPhone?  She spent most of today puzzling over how to download apps and how to get really cool ringtones downloaded from the internet.

According to the writer of the aforementioned Wall Street Journal article, Rolfe Winkler (What a great name Rolfe is!  Sounds like something one might want to name a Rottweiler.  Self simply must find a way to use this name in a story)

Here are the cons of buying Facebook stock:

  • “Facebook has had trouble getting its mobile act together.  Its app for smartphones isn’t designed well …  It took 18 months after the release of the iPad for Facebook to deliver an app for the tablet.”
  • “In the stock market, over-hyped generally means over-bought.
  • “Many recent tech IPOs –  Groupon, Zynga, Pandora Media and others — have seen shares fall well below earlier levels.”

And here are some of the Pros:

  • “Even though Facebook ads can be poorly placed, often irrelevant and feel spammy . . .  it is impressive that the company still managed to generate $3.2 billion of ad revenue last year, 85% of its total …  Facebook only began this year to allow ads directly in user’s news feeds, and to permit advertisers to pay to make sure their ads are seen by those they wish to reach.”
  • “Its operating margin of 43% over the past 12 months bested even Google’s.”

Read enough?  Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

P. S.  –  A form rejection appeared in her e-mail today, from the Colorado Review.  My, it is terribly windy!  And Dearest Mum is somewhere in the vicinity.

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