Clerks II

Yes, I saw it.

Yes, I laughed my fool head off.

Yes, I am mortified that you will think badly of me for doing so.

This is not a movie for the faint of heart, although it did have a very strong, important message (forget about what you are "supposed" to do and do what makes you happy). Mr. Kevin Smith is taking his own advice and doing what he likes, which seems to be making sophmoric jokes at a witty, rapid-fire pace. Fortunately, I am a fan of rapid-fire, sophmoric humor. If you liked Jay, Silent Bob, and their raunchy, politically inappropriate friends in Clerks, you will enjoy this second peek into their slacker lives. Oh, and there were plenty of those disturbingly gross, yet oddly realistic conversational gambits that Kevin Smith is so good at writing.

Irony

So, it finally cooled off and I was able to sleep really well last night. So well, in fact, that I slept a kink into my neck that makes it impossible for me to turn my head more than 45 degrees in any direction. It has actually loosened some since I got up, but not enough for my taste. I just hope that it clears up completely before I have to get on a plane. No fun travelling with a sore spine.

Losing Sleep

Could it be...

the squeeky fan?
the noisy cat?
the intolerable heat?
the late afternoon naps?
the iced tea?
the snoring?
the impending school year?

Ugh.

The Good Ones

Dad's comment got me thinking about the different authors I read and enjoy (so much better than thinking about those I DON'T enjoy), so I decided to make a list (I am also studiously avoiding work on my master's class):

Character Authors
- These folks create characters you will either love or hate with a passion. You laugh at their foolishness, cry over their losses, or shake with anger at their inhumanity. These characters remain in your mind always.

Stephen King
I know there are those of you who would consider him brain candy, but you must admit he has a talent for bringing his characters, even the incidental ones, to life.

Barbara Kingsolver
I just finished rereading The Poisonwood Bible, and even the second time through I suffered right along with those girls and their mother.

Amy Tan
She gets you right into the minds of the women in her stories. I especially enjoy feeling as though I am gaining an understanding of a culture I know little about when I read her books.

Jodi Picoult
I add her to the list because of My Sisters Keeper. While dissecting the issues of a young girl defined by the sacrifices she makes to keep her sister alive, Picoult manages to put us inside each of the family members equally.

Poetic Prose
- These writers can turn a phrase with the best of them. You don't so much read the descriptions as fall right into them. They provide full-color and surround sound in such a way that you often don't even realize they're doing it.

Margaret Atwood
I just lent my friend my copy of The Blind Assassin, telling her to pay extra attention to the beautiful language contained therein. Several times, I paused my reading just to enjoy a particularly enthusiastic metaphor or apt simile.

Khaled Hossseini
His story, The Kite Runner, puts you in Afghanistan as revolution tears it apart. His descriptions, like Amy Tan's characters, give you insight to a culture many fear, but few understand.

Ursula Hegi
Although I initially thought she would be one of those pompous writers of my previous post, I am glad I gave her a chance. Her descriptions in Stones From the River of life in Germany, both before and during the rise of Hitler, are quite haunting. She has a tendency to drift from topic to topic, but it seems appropriate for the narrative style of the main character.

...

That seems to be all I can think of at the moment. Perhaps another day I will discuss my favorite "brain candy"...or humorous books...or young adult books. There are so many good books to read out there! Please share your thoughts, either on the books I have mentioned or the ones I should have mentioned in these categories.

Get Over Yourself!

I like books that make you think.
Granted, I spend most of my time reading the exact opposite - courtroom dramas, cereal boxes, murder mysteries (the kind that spell everything out for you at the end so there's no reason to try to solve it yourself), trashy science fiction and/or romance. Despite my love of the books I call "brain candy", I have been known to pick up a higher class of literature from time to time. I can appreciate the poetry of good prose - the well-turned phrase, the meaningful dialogue, the lesson to be learned. It just doesn't happen very often.
Why? If I enjoy thought provoking writing, why don't I partake of it more often? Simply this - it is too hard to tell the good stuff from the bad. With brain candy, you know what you are getting from word one. It's just the opposite with the meaningful stuff. There are too many authors out there who have deep and meaningful thoughts but absolutely no talent with which to express them. And of course, these people compensate by trying to be deeper and meaningfuller...er...more meaningful. They use too many flowery phrases, spend too much time telling us what things look like, and basically just sound stuck up.
I find that these same authors have trouble expressing human interaction in a realistic way. It is as though their own awkwardness and fear around people is generalized out to everyone in the world. All conversations become stilted and everyone is full of suffering and angst. I know that everyone feels that way now and again, but do we really need 372 pages of non-stop teenaged, goth-wanna-be drama? I mean, really. I don't need to spend 3 pages reading about how the character really felt about the color of the sheets on the bed. It isn't moving the story along and, frankly, I don't care.
There are plenty of writers who can use figurative language and adjectives in ways that pull you deep into the story. There are lots of authors who can create characters that you truly care about. These people have a talent that I envy and enjoy. The trouble is that the old saying "you can't tell a book by its cover" is so very, very true. It could be extended to say "you can't tell a book by its cover, the blurb on the inside of the jacket, or what your friends told you". Many a time, I have picked up a well-reviewed, attractive book with an interesting premise only to find that it is pompous, drivel by an author who just likes to read their own writing. I'm sure your experiences are quite interesting and you have important things to say to the general public, but if you can't do it without putting me to sleep in the middle of the day or making me feel as though you are lecturing from the front of the classroom, at least have the courtesy to put a little mark on the spine...perhaps a capital T for Talentless?

My rant comes from having recently read a book called "Accidents". While it could have been a beautiful study of the interactions between children and parents at different stages in life, instead I spent the whole time wondering why all the characters weren't just drugged at put into a mental hospital. It was so obvious that each and every one of them needed therapy. It makes me worry for the mental stability of the author if the only human interactions she knows are those of anger, betrayal, frustration, disappointment, and fear. Ugh.

Energy Sapping Heat

85 F at 7 am. 107 F at 4 pm.

I needed a nap shortly after breakfast. Mikey napped this afternoon. The animals slept all day long. The electric company conked out on us for a few seconds as well. This heat is just sucking the energy right out of all of us.

Good Dogs!

My puppies have been getting their full allotment of cookies these days for their excellent outside behavior. It seems that the zapping they got going over the fence that last time took the joy out of the jumping. We have settled into a nice little routine that involves an hour or so of "free play" after they show my they remember how to "sit" and "down" and walk nicely without pulling at the leash. They do all their tricks for me and then I unhook the leash and release them. You should see those puppies run! :) They wander all over the property, chasing whatever moves and having a good time. Occasionally, they will come back to check in with me (I encourage this by rewarding them with cookies when they do it - sometimes after doing a trick, sometimes not). When it's time to go in, they follow me back to the kennel and voluntarily go in (granted I am putting down food as they do it, but still...) and that is that. This is good. Very good.

Cute side-note:
Mia likes to hop up in the chair next to me while I am reading after she's done running around. She just jumps up there and keeps me company for awhile. It's adorable.

Gross side-note:
Trooper caught a frog this evening and spend most of the hour playing with it despite the fact that it tasted bad enough to make him do funny, spitty things with his mouth.

Clear as Smoke

I should clarify to my beloved family and friends that I am not in any danger from the big fires that you are hearing about in the news. They are far enough away that I can only see the smoke way off on the horizon at night when it makes the sun glow a beautiful (but worrisome) red. The fire I mentioned yesterday was a small one, probably brush fire or some such, that was soon extinguished by the local fire department. I am sorry if I was unclear and causing worry of any kind.

Too Close

Today, at about 12:50 pm, a neighbor called us to make sure we were aware of the fire burning just 1/2 mile from our front door. After thanking her (as we were completely unaware until her call) we looked out the window to see a giant plume of black smoke rising into the air just to the south of us. Since the wind was blowing in a northerly direction, we decided it was time to practice the fire evacuation plan we had come up with not too long ago. Within the hour the wind had changed direction and the black plume of smoke had turned into a pale gray plume of steam and ash. Thank goodness for firefighters.

I don't know about the rest of you, but my fear of fire is deeply instinctual. I knew that this fire was far enough away that it probably wouldn't affect me. I knew that we had the important things* safely packed and ready for a quick flight, should the need arise. But no amount of certainty could stop the surge of adrenaline I felt when I actually saw flames reaching over the bushes. Yes, they were 1/2 a mile away, but they were red and they were hungry and I was scared.

As humans, we depend on fire in many forms. It propels our vehicles. It cooks our food, heats our homes and dries our clothes. Controlled fire does good things for me every day, but all it takes is the thought of an uncontrolled fire to send the primitive bits of my brain into a panic. DANGER! FIRE BAD! RUN AWAY!

Fire is like that one weird looking homeless guy who walks around muttering to himself all the time. He's never hurt anyone, has even been known to lend a hand when needed, but the minute he starts getting too loud or agitated, everyone is sure he's going to do something dangerous. You know what I mean? It's hard to trust fire no matter how helpful/friendly/harmless it's has been in the past.

Today's adventure was mostly harmless(to us - I hope to everyone else as well), but that doesn't mean that I will feel any less frightened the next time fire decides to take a jaunt through my neighborhood. You just never know when it's going to turn on you.

So, you might be wondering what qualifies as important in the event of a fire here at Quail Corner? This is our list, in order of importance.
1. Pets and Cars
2. Mike's computer, containing all he needs to keep his business up and running
3. "Vital Papers" file - birth and marriage certs, teaching license, passports, etc.
4. My school files (this one isn't usually on the list, but I have all my 5th grade stuff here and I have worked my tail off to get it organized. I'm NOT losing it now!)
5. Some quickly grabbed clothing and toiletries

Beyond this is the stuff that you want to save, but that you could manage without. This afternoon I looked around at all the "stuff" we own and wondered what of it I would remember if it were to suddenly disappear. How could I possibly replace the things that I have been collecting for almost 30 years? So many of my memories are tied to the things I own. That cd reminds me of the summer between my junior and senior years in high school. Will I still remember all the details if I lose it? That ratty, old T-shirt was purchased in Russia. That game kept me entertained while I recovered from my donation surgery. Those bowls were given to us for our wedding. That picture from my daddy, the book that so often lent me courage while I was in college, those Pyrex bowls my sister sent one Christmas...

None of it is vital, but all of it is important. I am an amalgamation of my thoughts and memories. Without my things will I still have the same thoughts and memories? Without my thoughts and memories, will I still be the same person? I hope I never have to find out.

Inheritance

A friend of mine is caught between two family members. They had a falling out of some kind (the details are lost behind a curtain of bitter silence) over an inheritance some time ago. These two family members are both caring and kind and very concerned that the problems between them might repeat themselves later, causing similar problems between my friend and her siblings. Consequently, they are making sure that all belongings are clearly marked for the day when the siblings will have to go through the process of dividing up someone else's belongings - a difficult task no matter when it is done. The only problem is that this pre-planning, combined with the lack of communication between loved ones, is giving my friend a whole new bundle of goodies to inherit. Silence, anger, and sorrow are being packed up right along with that old waffle iron and the 16 sets of pillowcases. Although she doesn't mention it much, I know that my friend worries about the day when reconciliation is no longer an option and the material things are all that are left. Because when it comes right down to it, it's not the cookbooks and tool kits and knick-knacks that are important. It's the memories that are attached to them that make them worth inheriting.

Bu-bye, now.

I am so not a fan of Adam Carolla (of The Man Show fame), but I enjoyed his interview with Ann Coulter very much. I know that the joy in my heart after hearing it is cutting into my karma budget, but I don't care. It was worth it. It is petty and unkind, but sometimes it is good to hear one of those evil, stuck-up, "I'm-so-much-more-important-than-you" idiots put in their place. I must now go plant something or rescue a bug from drowning to make up for my bad thoughts. :)

If Wishes Were Horses...

...We'd All Be Eatin' Steak! (said by Jayne Cobb of Firefly)

My head hurts. I wish it would stop.

Mikey is on a family trip without me. I wish he would return.

It is very hot. I wish it would cool down.

Ya just can't make me happy, can you? Ugh. Something I am happy about - I picked a handful of green beans, a dozen jalepanos, a zucchini, and a cherry tomato from my garden and had some of the beans on my salad tonight as I ate dinner alone. Time to tuck myself into bed and hope that my head is clear when I wake up.

On a brighter note

Yesterday, Mikey and I managed to replace the light fixture in our office with a ceiling fan/light combo. It illuminates. It causes air to drift at varying speeds. It is wonderful. And all withouth electrocuting ourselves (I wanted to save that experience for this morning, apparantly). We are pretty amazing.

Also amazing is our beautiful garden. It has now produced half a dozen zucchini, half a dozen cherry tomatoes, and 2 sweet peas. There are plenty of things still in the works: several watermelon and cantelope, many more zucchini and tomatoes (cherry and regular), some jalepano peppers, and hopefully a few bush beans and cucumbers. Potentially, we should end up with some corn, bell peppers, raspberries, and strawberries, but those aren't doing so well that I feel I can count on them. We'll see.

Success! Or Not.

We finished the electric fence! I got brave and tested it on myself (not really painful, but my arm muscles are sore from the tensing up it caused) after we turned it on. That was enough to convince me that the dogs would be fine if they got shocked.

The first thing Trooper did was run over to the fence, get shocked, yelp, and run off to chase rabbits in the yard. All good. Except, 10 minutes later they both jumped the fence, pausing slightly to yelp as they got shocked on their way over. DAMMIT. Luckily, they were tired from running around the yard like lunatics, so it didn't take long to catch them. They both flopped in the shade inside the kennel in a relieved manner.

The next time I take them out will be to intentionally shock them on the fence while we're walking on the leashes. They have until the first day of school to learn to respect this fence. If that doesn't happen, I am going to have to really rethink my ability to care for them.

The thought of giving them up after all this effort makes me want to cry. I spend at least 2 hours a day working with them. I get up at 6:30 every morning (of my VACATION!) to walk them. We have refrained from making any summer plans that involve both of us being gone for more than 12 hours at a time (including cancelling my birthday plans). We spent plenty of money on this electric fencing and took the time and energy to put it up (I have blisters on my hands and a nasty bruise on my trachea thanks to this project). I have done everything in my power to teach these dogs that I am the one who feeds them and cares for them and loves them and provides them with cookies. So it is understandably frustrating when they jump the fence and run away as soon as they get the opportunity.

I know this isn't a personal thing. They like us just fine, wagging and smiling and getting excited when they see us. The trouble is, they don't really care about us. We're fun if there's nothing better to do. Otherwise, they can take us or leave us. I know this isn't surprising considering what they have been through, but I was naively hoping that once they realized what a great home we provided, they would fall at our feet in gratitude. Not so much.

I actually wouldn't mind so much if their attitude didn't make it impossible to keep them safe. If they just ran around the yard, only coming to me when they wanted to...fine. But they aren't content with the yard. They have to run around the entire damn neighborhood, putting themselves at risk of all the vehicles, loose animals, nutjobs, and weapons contained therein. I don't want them to get hurt and I think it is only right that if I am unable to contain them while simultaneously providing them with a decent standard of living (I don't consider 22 hours a day in a 8 x 24 ft. box to be a decent standard of living) then it is my duty to find something better for them.

Of course, we tried that. Nobody wants to take on 2 black labs who can escape any enclosure, who fight with other dogs, who chase livestock, and who will only follow basic commands while on a leash and bribed with a cookie. Not that I blame them. So, then the issue becomes this: isn't 184 sq. ft. of living space better than a crate at the Humane Shelter. And infinitely preferable to the solution the pound would provide? And if so, can I continue this regiment of twice-daily walkings, knowing that it will cost me every future vacation I can think of?

But maybe I am over-reacting. (Who, me?) Mayabe, with the proper introduction, I can teach them to respect this fence that bites (obviously not hard enough) and stay inside the property. Hopefully, I can do it by the end of August, when I will be returning to my school schedule - a routine that will severely limit my dog walking time.

I know.

"This is not a black and white world.
To be alive, the colors must be swirled.
And I believe that maybe some day
we will all learn to appreciate
the beauty of grey."

Live, The Beauty of Grey

I know, I KNOW. I quote this line every time I hear it. But it just strikes me in such a powerful way every, single time.

2 Random Bits

BIT ONE

An interesting side effect of taking these classes for my masters is that I am finding myself inspired to learn more about the field in which I am working. Not so much the actual teaching part - I'm already way interested in that - but in the politics of it. I am the kind of person who feels mountains of guilt for every horrible thing in the world that I can't fix. Usually, I ignore all news/information regarding bad things that I can't make better out of simple mental self-preservation. If I were to pay too much attention to the big, scary world, I would end up curled up in the fetal position, mumbling things, and flinching at every sound. Same goes for education. If I start reading about the things that are happening in the arena of public education, I become even more disgusted and horrified than I already am. Regardless of this well established fact, I have added several educationally-minded blogs to my reading list and I am making a solid attempt at becoming informed. If you don't hear from me in a while, call and help Mikey talk me out of the dark recesses of my closet where I will no doubt be muttering about charter schools and pay scales and idiot bastard politicians who know nothing about children or teaching or even humanity for that matter but still think they should be in charge of telling me how to do my job...whew. I'm okay.

But, seriously. If you don't hear from me...

BIT TWO

I got new glasses last week, one pair of regular ones and one pair of sunglasses. For the first time in my life I put some actual thought into how they looked on me and what kind of image I wanted to present to those who gaze upon my visage (oooh! fancy word!). In both cases, I ditched the roundness of my previous frames, going for a blockier, slightly hinting at the 50's look. I like 'em. I like 'em a lot.
What I don't like is the way my regular glasses make me feel like I am walking around in a circus funhouse. The walls won't stay where they belong and everything seems slightly out of perspective. Like I've fallen into an M.C. Esher picture. This is not completely unexpected. It always takes awhile for my eyes to adjust to a new prescription, but this is rediculous. It has been 3 days and I still get seasick just walking across the house. Bleh. The sunglasses, on the other hand, are working perfectly. I had them polarize those lenses and I am thrilled with the way my head doesn't hurt after being outside now. Whoot.

She Really Likes Me!

On Saturday, the nearby casino sponsored some fireworks. They're nothing special, but they were pretty to look at. I liked them. Mia hated them. She's one of those dogs that gets freaked out by loud noises. She was in the kennel whimpering (as Trooper tried to chase the booms away by barking) until Mikey got them both out on the leashes. I was already outside, standing on the big rock in front of the house (the better to see the sky with). As they came around the corner, and poor, terrified Mia saw me standing there, she pulled like crazy on the leash until she was close enough to jump up next to me and snuggle up close. She sat there, shivering against my side, until the last of those nasty noises was done. It makes me feel pretty darn good that she trusts me to keep her safe when she's scared. That is a big step.

Progress and Not Progress

I have finished the first unit of my Research Methodology class. I am really enjoying the book - clearly written and factually based (unlike the overly biased and rambling piece of crap I am reading for my other class)- and the format is much friendlier. Not to mention that the information about research is facinating. With my penchant for organization and labelling, perhaps I should have become a research scientist. Oh yeah...the math. Nevermind.
I have also finished the third unit in the aforementioned "other class". I'm not really enjoying this one as much, since it feels like I am slogging through a 200 page info-mercial - lots of weighted language and very little balance. And I am getting tired of regergitating information for my essay answers. The questions go something like this...

Charter schools are bad. How do you feel about charter schools? Copy the three reasons from page 103 to explain why you hate them.

Okay, so it isn't quite that bad, but pretty darn close.

The Not Progress is in the area of electrical fences. We have decided to go ahead with the fence and the solar panel in question. The top wire is on and the only thing stopping us from doing the bottom wire is a lack of supplies (back to Home Depot!). The problem lies in the grounding rods. We're supposed to stick those giant metal poles 6 feet into the ground. Yeah, RIGHT. It's not easy to dig around here anyway, and to make matters even more exciting frustrating we keep hitting rock. Ugh. But I haven't given up yet. The thought of my darling puppies getting to run free is still driving me on. I just hope that this works.