Slow Talking Nerd Boys Who Think They Stand A Chance

So today I went into the lunchroom to sit and write
(and eat). I've been writing there every lunch hour
for a few weeks now. Someone else was sitting at the
table by the one outlet in the room. That's fine,
since I had my notebook today, not my laptop. I sat
down at the table next to it to eat.
5 min later, that person leaves and Slow Talking Nerd
Boy comes and sits down. Lately he's been cornering me
to ask if I'm a writer and have I ever published
anything and he's a writer too and boy it's hard to
find time and wah wah wah.
So he pulls out his laptop, plugs it in and starts
typing.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
He tried to talk to me, but I ignored him. I kept my
head down and because I had headphones on, I could
pretend like I didn't hear him. But when I got up to
put my dishes away, he FOLLOWED me into the kitchen to
tell me about these siamese twins and then ask what
kind of books I read (we've been over this, idiot) and
lament the lack of good female protagonists. wah wah
wah. I nodded and stared at my food in the microwave.
Then I went back to my table and put my headphones on
again.
Does he take my ignoring and borderline rude behavior
as mysteriousness and aloofness?
He knows I have a boyfriend. He commented on my Commander shirt one day
(way to stare at my chest, jerk) and I said my
BOYFRIEND got it because my BOYFRIEND works there.
Does he think we'll be writing buddies?!?! Because we
won't!!
And I was getting so much work done. Now I have to
start going to Starbucks to write. Maybe I can use one
of those outside tables.

Muir Woods

This Sunday, Joe, Christy and I hopped in Christy's car and took a trip over to Muir Woods, a mere 20 minutes away. It's really amazing the things you find just outside the city. Another 30 minutes north of that is Napa Valley.
On the way, we stopped in Sausalito for brunch, which is just on the other side of the Golden Gate Bridge. It was the most gorgeous day out. We had decent food and even got to eat outside. Sausalito's main street leads right into the water facing San Francisco. It's a cute town full of coffeeshops and art stores that I'd love to spend more time in. We found out that there's actually a ferry from SF to there, so we might try to do that one day.
Then off down a winding, twisting, vomit-inducing road to the woods. We didn't have a whole lot of time before the park closed (Christy, you putterer you!) so we just did the easy main trail at Muir woods, but it was worth it. Redwoods are breathtaking, even the ones that are only medium-sized. They're just so old! The woods really do look as misty and majestic as photographs make them out to be. The eco-system is delicate though. We saw the remains of what used to be that really famous walk-through tree that everyone took their picture in front of. It collapsed and died in 1971 from too many people walking over the roots. Now they're really hard-core about conservation.
It's a very soul-refreshing kind of place. I hope Christy keeps wanting to go on these outings. Having a car in SF is definitely a plus. I didn't miss it a bit in NYC, but here it would be nice. Joe and I want to sign up for zipcar soon, though. People have shown that even if you rented a car every single weekend, it would still be cheaper than actually owning a car in the city.
I'm all excited about going camping now. Once it warms up, we want to go up to Point Reyes just like Luke and Aliza did.
I'll try to get Joe to upload some of the digital pics from Muir Woods for y'all to ooh and aah over.
On our way home, we saw a small sign for Muir Beach, which is where the stream that runs through Muir Woods empties into the ocean. After driving down a cruddy little road and climbing over sand dunes and a smelly board walk, you come upon a beach, hidden in a bay among craggy cliffs. To the west was the sunset, and to the east, the foggy lights of San Francisco. Familys were packing up picnics and dogs ran around in the waves. A lovely end to a lovely day.

Ivy League

I had an interview this morning that I was NOT looking forward to, mostly because I scheduled it at 7:30 a.m. so I could still get in most of a day of work. Plus, it was an hour away, at Stanford University, in the OPPOSITE direction of work.
But nothing, nothing compares to seeing Stanford University for the first time when it is completely empty of all people, when the sun is just rising, when is is 30 degrees out.
I got tears in my eyes.
This is Ivy League, baby.
It is a campus. Other colleges I've seen, like NYU and Madison, are integrated right into the city they're in. NYU is cool, of course, but it's hard to tell when, if ever, you actually cross into the "campus." And Madison has things like Bascom Hall that are all up on a hill and cool, but mainly the rest of the campus is just buildings.
Stanford is grand brown sandstone buildings, with red slate roofs as far as the eye can see. Arched outer hallways and statues of Plato and Socrates by Rodin give the whole place a historic feel. There is a big church, with gorgeous stained glass windows that borders one side of the main quad, and while I stood there gaping at it, a guy came up, knelt in the middle of the quad facing the church and starting praying.
No kidding.
I was glad I got there early, so I had some time to wander around, though my ears were ice cubes by the time I could go inside.
Be sure to click on the pictures I linked to.
I'm not sure how the interview went, but it was totally worth it, just for the views!

WW

As of last night, I've lost 21.2 pounds on Weight Watchers. Yay! They even gave me a fun little keychain for it. Let's hope I can keep it up. Only forty or so more to go...
Bizarrely, when I showed up at the meeting on Wednesday, they said that was the last time we'd be meeting there because the hospital (where we meet) was throwing us out! In fact, we weren't even allowed a normal meeting that night. The meetings had gotten too big.
Apparently they had been meeting at a church before this that was condemned DURING a meeting, and proceeded to toss everyone out then too!
This could throw a lot of people off completely. I'm not sure where I'm going to go next week. Maybe I'll skip a week and see if they start up at a new place in the same area.

On Bras

How can bra designers be so bad at their jobs? Seriously, how hard is it to design a properly fitting bra that doesn't stab or scrap me in four places?
I'll admit, I'm not an easy girl to fit. But there are some common sense things we could learn.
For example, NO ONE buying a DD cup is going to be happy with those half-inch ribbons you call straps. Those won't hold up squat. All those will do is cut red, raw lines into my shoulders.
Same goes for that frilly bit of lace you included along the bottom. Sure, it looks pretty. And yes, that's part of what suckered me into buying it. But now it's hurting me. It has folded under and it itching me horrendously, causing me to reach up under my shirt and scratch myself in polite company. I will never buy a bra that looks like that again.
This goes for every other raw seam, unpadded edge and weirdly shaped underwire out there. I am not buying cheap bras, here, either. There is no excuse for this.
Sure, I could buy those big, white matronly things. They would give me great support. However, they generally seem to be made out of recycled army tent canvas and are no more comfortable than their highly decorated sisters.
And WHAT is with my straps falling down constantly?!?! Do I have uncommonly narrow shoulders? I don't think so. I'm built like a linebacker. Are these designed by men who LIKE to watch women reach inside their shirt every three minutes to haul up a strap? Can we possibly find someone inventive enough, creative and brilliant enough, to design straps that don't slip down to my elbows? Perhaps someday my bra savior will rise to power and create such a thing.
Give me a little help here, folks.

Stuff Lately

It is very cold here today. It makes my bones ache. I think I will take a hot bath tonight.

In other news, I think I got a place to sleep in the main hotel for WisCon. I hope it all works out. It will be fun to meet new people by having roommates, and to be right there for all the parties and mingling and networking. It will also be fun to NOT sleep on my cousin's couch while he and his drunken friends romp around.
Now I just have to buy plane tickets. I wish I knew what job I will have in May.

Meta stayed with us Mon-Wed this week and bought us a wok as a thank-you present! Then, she proceeded to cook us dinner on it. That's my kind of houseguest.
My birthday was nice too. Meta and I made homemade pizza, Christy came over, and the four of us ate ice cream and played the Wii.
Thanks for the clothes, Mom!
Joe's present to me is that jewelery class at the Crucible I've been eyeing. I think I'll have a blast!

This post sort of reads like a small-town gossip column :)
"On Monday, Miss Jones was visited by her friend from Australia. A good time was had by all..."

Zad and Oriana

Zad and Oriana have been visiting for the past week, along with Prufrock, who's been pretty well behaved so far. On New Year's Eve we went and saw the fireworks. We had a great view, but ended up walking all the way home. It took us an hour, and my feet still hurt. There were just too many people, and the buses were packed. We tried to walk along Fisherman's Wharf earlier, but it was plagued by what Zad calls "rampant scumbagery." Meaning, teenagers. Ugh.
Lots and lots of eating out too. Which is fun, but tough to do while trying to lose weight. I realize now that there were a lot of things that made me gain so much weight in NYC--we have a very specific way we all eat together. We order appetizers, then entrees (which everyone shares) and then usually dessert. Then drinking afterwards. Then once we get home, someone pulls out chips and salsa, or cookies, or whatever. The other night, after eating Burmese food, Joe got home and started to get himself a bowl of cereal. We never do that on our own! At least not anymore. I've never been a night eater, and I think I've influenced Joe out of that too (instead of the other way around, finally).
Last night we showed them our trip pictures and Joe gave Oriana all the rocks he'd collected for her along the way. Before that, we got sushi at a sushi boat place (Mom, remind me to bring you there. You'll plotz in happiness, like Oriana did). Then we walked around Japantown. Those are the times I miss the most, just wandering around with people. We did that in NYC all the time, but people don't seem to do that here. And Zad and Oriana are the most fun--Oriana is entertained by everything, and Zad usually makes me laugh until I cry. He's been sick with stomach problems for most of the trip, which must be awful and I feel so bad for him, but I must admit is pretty hilarious for the rest of us. We can be ruthless.
What else...we had dinner at Zuppenkuche on Zad's first night here, a German restaurant just down the street that's so popular we've never even been able to get a table before. Pretty good food, but what was most exciting was that they have the 2 liter glass boots, just like the Essenhaus in Madison. And, even more exciting, you can order a 5 liter stein of beer. That's right. I thought Zad's eyes were going to fall out. He is determined to drink one before he leaves (not even our favorite beer joints in NYC have a 5 liter stein) but even Zad has the good sense to realize he will die if he drinks it alone. So he has been actively recruiting Joe to help him out. Great.
Oh, and my FAVORITE part of the weekend: The Green Apple Book Sale. Green Apple books is sort of like the Strand of SF. Much smaller, but the same glorious, cramped piles of books. During the last week of December, they open up their warehouse to the public and mark the already discounted books off 50%. Luke went right away and called me from the warehouse because he was so excited, but I knew I had to wait for Oriana. We spent over an hour there. Oriana might even go back at the end of the week, as they were constantly replenishing picked-over shelves. There is very little organization, so you just scan the shelves, tossing books into your basket with abandon. I had to ask them to hold a pile for me behind the cash register because I couldn't carry any more. Between Joe and I, we spend $80. Sounds like a lot, but it was as many books as we could fit into our 2 backpacks and still walk upright. I would have bought more if we had a way to get them home! I got more than Joe (as he likes to point out) but his actually cost more because they were cookbooks, while mine were dirtcheap because fiction was 75% off (as I like to point out). I'm so excited. Now we just need a bookshelf to put them on.

Doorknobs

It sort of annoys me when people go through the whole using a paper towel to open the bathroom doorhandle routine. What exactly does this do? What are they afraid of? Cold or flu germs? Beyond The Plague That Will End The World Someday (ala 12 Monkeys), I don't think there is much else you can catch from a doorknob, barring any actual, you know, blood on it. Are these people going to be sticking their fingers in their mouth, or the mouths of others immediately afterwards? If so, I apologize for my sarcasm and eye-rolling when you do this.
Has anyone ever done a study to see if these people get noticably less colds or flu bugs than the rest of us? I'd put my money on no.

We Got Snow!

Christmas time in Wisconsin was fun. It usually is, though this year seemed to be especially whirlwindy. I got a fuzzy pink bathrobe, some new clothes and jewelery (including a Black Hills Gold bracelet my parents got on their trip to Rount Mushmore), Pirates of the Carribean 2, and a book called "What Should I Do With My Life?" by Po Bronson, among other things. I tried to flip to the end for the answer, but apparently it doesn't work that way.
From Joe I got a Battlestar Galactica Mug and a t-shirt that says "So Say We All." I'm the coolest nerd around, and I will wear my nerdery proudly.

Paperback Joy

I decided to go to Barnes & Noble during my lunch hour and get hot chocolate and sit in the cafe reading magazines. I deserved it. It was one of those days.
On my way through the store, I noticed one of those book donation centers, where they have a bunch of tags like "Boy, Age 9" or "Girl, Age 11" that you grab and buy a book for. There were quite a lot of tags left, considering there are only 5 days until Christmas. Hmm, (I thought, as I wandered by) I should maybe do that. I like giving kids books. Maybe on my way out. Maybe next year.

My Conscience: STOP. Turn around. Actually do it, instead of thinking you SHOULD maybe do something.
Me: But I'm broke! And I just spent a whole bunch of money on gifts!
MC: If you're broke, why did you spend so much money on gifts for people who already have a lot of stuff?
Me: uhhhhh
MC: You should do something nice for someone who might not have much.
Me: But I don't donate money. It's a policy of mine. I donate time.
MC: But it's the holidays.
Me: So?
MC: And if you skip that overpriced hot chocolate you were about to buy, that'll cover at least half a kids' book, won't it?
Me: ...you win again, conscience.

Which is my long-winded way of saying I bought "Aliens Ate My Homework" by Bruce Coville for an annonymous 9-year-old boy. I do so love spreading the gospel of Coville.

Hack, Cough, Die

The cold has now moved into my lungs. I am not looking foward to flying. However, due to the magic of modern medicine, I plan to be asleep before the plane even takes off.
Merry Christmas to me.

Ode to Cold

Do you know what it's like to WANT to be cold? To wish you could stagger around in flurries of snow that fill every nook and cranny of your eskimo outfit?
First you start with boots so big and heavy that they make you walk like a 400 pound man. Inside there are a few extra pairs of socks you stole from your dad. On your legs are long underwear, heavy jeans, and snow pants that make that zipzip sound when you walk. These are what make falling over into the snow feel like tumbling into a cloud in snow motion. On top is your brightly colored ski jacket (because they only wear black in New York and white is just silly, for many reasons). A pair of gloves, then mittens on top of those, a thick hat down around your ears, your hood pulled up tight, and a long scarf wrapped around that, keeping it all in place.
After being outside for a while, your breath will make a sheet of ice form on the inside of your scarf. You rotate the scarf, forming a sheet on the other side as well. Eventually this ice will chafe and chap the entire lower portion of your face.
Your feet will get cold. They always get cold, no matter how many pairs of socks or how expensive your ice-fishing boots are. But you wiggle your toes and feel them rubbing against each other like blocks of wood and know they will be okay for a little while longer.
As you stagger across fields of untouched, unseen, unbroken snow, you have to lift each foot as high as you can to take the next step. If you have layered your clothes properly, no snow will get in your boots. Snow whips across the field, lifting and twisting, looking like white sheets flapping in the wind on a clothesline. And when you find somewhere to hunker down, in a hollow under a pine tree, or between two small hills, you'll feel colder, somehow, but safer than you ever have in your life.
I remember when we were little my brother and I used to crawl under the one tree on the bus stop corner. Trees, no matter how much snow there is, always have that tiny clear space just around their trunks. We would huddle together there to be out of the wind and then emerge in an explosion of snow like awakened bear cubs when the bus pulled up.
When I was a teenager, I would heat my car until I could strip off my jacket inside, and somehow this felt more dangerous than they way we would all expertly slide through stop signs.
It's wishing your lungs would burn until they hurt while sledding, the way your cheeks turn an impossible red, how your hands will never get warm once your gloves are wet, and the fact that the harder it snows and the darker it gets, the harder it gets to resist going outside into it.
That is what it's like to miss the cold.

The Spirits Did It All in One Night!

Yesterday, despite a very fast-moving cold that has taken residence in my head, I went to the Great Dickens Christmas Fair out at Cow Palace in San Francisco. I didn't expect it to be so involved! Not being dressed up, we were actually in the minority here. It's sort of like a renaissance festival, only for 19th century Victorian London. I was really very impressed and had a lot of fun.
The first thing we did was hit the bar (of course). You could get mead, festival ale, irish coffee, hot toddys and hot cider & rum (my favorite!). Everywhere there was music and noise and corset shops and urchins running around. There was a Christmas parade, a bawdy dance hall revue (not recommended for children!), and drunken chimney sweeps that would bounce off you, barely muttering "sorry." Occasionally you would run into Scrooge being lead around by the Ghost of Christmas Past. There was a man walking around with a live owl on his arm. We ate fish & chips for lunch, then roasted chestnuts afterwards, which are tons of fun to eat. We ended up at Fezziwig's dance hall, where you could learn traditional Victorian dances, and were then treated to a dance troupe's display of Scottish and Irish dances and music. Scrooge even showed up there.
By the time we stumbled out, we all felt a little displaced, dehydrated, and sorely in need of fresh air. Sort of what I imagine what I would feel like if I stumbled into the real London 150 years ago!

A Giant Burrito for Breakfast

WisCon is the feminist science-fiction convention that takes place in Madison, WI every May. I went last year and one year during college and I always have a blast.
Last night was my office holiday party. Joe's was the night before. Joe's was much more swank, with fancy appetizers being carried around and hip DJ music. I really like the people Joe works with (I met them the week before at his coworker's housewarming party where we ate Indian food and played poker). However, computer programmers get to show up to work whenever they want, which means that at midnight they were still going strong and I was whining, "I can still get five and a half hours of sleep if we leave NOW."
At my party, which significant others were not invited to, I was rather nervous, not knowing that many people. So, even though I knew better, I had a drink before dinner. It hit me hard. Dinner is hazy, and I hardly remember having my third drink. I don't drink much anymore, so it hardly takes anything these days. I still had the sense, luckily, to give away my fourth drink ticket at that point. I don't even remember who I gave it to. I just shoved it at someone walking by. I actually had a LOT of fun though. I hung out with some new people, met a girl who also went to college at Madison and even danced a little.
However, 48 hours of no sleep and too much alcohol have left me wobbly, braindead and FAMISHED. Drinking always makes you hungry the next day. One of the guys showed up with a giant burrito for breakfast. Normally that would disgust me but this morning I was rather jealous. Mmmm...beans.

Christmas Present for Me!

I bought myself a Christmas present yesterday. Can you guess what it is? C'mon, guess.
You're right! It's a membership to Wiscon 2007, including a dessert salon ticket!
I've never actually signed up early enough to get dessert tickets before, so I'm especially excited. Of course, I don't actually have plane tickets yet. And I don't know what job I will have, where I will be living, where I'm going to sleep at Wiscon, or what my financial situation will be then, but dang it! I have dessert tickets!
I think I will make myself a goal now: Get something published (or accepted for publication) by the time Wiscon rolls around. It's a daunting task, but it will push me to send more stuff out. If it happens, I will be one of the beautiful people.

Ooch, ouch, aahh

Sometimes a job I dislike motivates me to write. I think a part up my brain jumps up and reminds me that if I am successful in my writing career, I can get out of this rat race. At least partly.
But this particular job leaves me too mentally and physically exhausted to want to do much of anything. Mentally because all day long I focus on ridiculous little details until it drives out all creative thought. Physically because I SIT ALL DAY LONG.
You think that's not physically exhausting? Have you tried it before? Yes, I'm a writer. And I've had desk jobs. But they usually involve jumping up and down fairly often for meetings, filing, dubbing, whatever. But I don't move here. I drink water constantly just for the chance to get up and get it, and then the chance to get up and pee 20 minutes later. I spend my lunch hour walking around to work out the kinks in my body. By the time I get home my shoulders ache from un-ergonomic typing, my eyes are tired of staring at screens 12 inches away from my face, and my back is a painful rod of steel.
Thus the lack of desire to sit at another desk and type.
I think if I am really determined (which I usually am) I will figure out how to write during my lunch hour.

Wisconsinites Are Scrappy

You gotta give 'em that. No one calls US second-rate cheeseheads!
Wisconsin Clings to Cheese Title

The Saddest News

I think the saddest news I've ever heard is the story about the San Francisco programmer and his family who went up to Oregon. I don't know how much coverage it's getting outside of the west coast, but it's everywhere here. I've had to turn off the TV because it makes me cry and feel a little sick.
I think what makes me feel the most horrible about this is that I could see myself being there, doing all the same things. Usually news seems very distant to me and I feel bad for people, but it doesn't actually affect me. For example, there was a big story just before we left NYC about a young girl who went out to a night club and was raped and killed that night. It didn't scare me because she did so many things wrong that night. She had to call an ambulance for her friend, then left her because she was afraid of getting in trouble for drinking (never leave a man behind!). She got in a car with a bouncer she'd met that night because he said he would help her. I'm not trying to say she deserved it (obviously not) I'm saying that particular scenario would never happen to me because I would never do those things.
But the Kim family was going to stay at a lodge on the Oregon. Something I would love to do. They made a wrong turn. Something anyone could do. Their cell phones, which we all rely on so much, wouldn't work out there. The police say they did everything right. And still James Kim died, trying to save his family.

That Warm Holiday Spirit

Yesterday my boss sent around an email saying that everyone has to work overtime either over the Thanksgiving weekend OR Christmas weekend. But on Monday, the day I started, I had sent him an email telling him, sorry, I already bought tickets for both holidays and will be gone for many extra days each time.
I'm getting away with this AGAIN! Mmwha haha!
So maybe I'm kind of screwing everyone else over, but then again not everyone has the manic need that Joe and I do about going home for certain holidays. Anyways, they get paid overtime.

Happy and Unhappy Rejections of All Kinds

For DAYS now I have not been able to log into Blogger. Sorry all. I don't know if it is a fluke in Blogger or my computer--which, I must say, is looking worse for the wear. In addition to funky grinding noises, it turns out my keyboard files are corrupted so I can no longer disconnect the external keyboard and use the laptop keyboard, which sort of defeats the purpose of having a laptop.
Luckily, I live with a computer programmer. Soon I'll get him to fix it.
Anyways, what I've been itching to put up is an email I received last week:
Jasmine,
My name is John O'Neill, editor of Black Gate magazine. Last month Black Gate's managing editor, Howard Andrew Jones, forwarded a copy of your story "Her Own Accord" to me, part of a very small handful passed along for serious consideration for publication.
First I'd like to thank you for your exceptional patience with us. Please accept my apologies for holding your story so long as we clear away our substantial submissions backlog. It really is inexcusable.
I was very impressed with your story, which I found very well written. But it's too bleak for Black Gate, I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'll have to return it, with genuine regrets.
We've worked hard this fall to improve our response times, and I hope you'll try us again.
Warm regards,
- John

Now, before you ask what's so great about being rejected by a respected, well-paying magazine, let me refer you to the first line of the email. He's the EDITOR. Only 1 or 2% of all stories (I made that number up) ever make it through the slushpile to the editor, and it sounds like I just barely missed it. It is a rather depressing story, so I can hardly blame them. So I thanked him and fired off a less bleak story back at them, then found a "dark" magazine to send this one to again.
My Big Interview I had last week I thought went really well. I loved the company, and I wasn't nervous at all. I bought a brand-new suit jacket to wear and even had it tailored.
Two days later they called me up and said, nope, I didn't get it. In fact, they were so kind as to inform me that I came in sixth out of six applicants. What was the point of that? Kicking me while I'm down. Apparently the guy (it's always a guy!) they did hire was a DP (i.e. camera guy) with "years" of experience in the Bay Area. How can I compete with that? I don't have years of experience in anything.
So that afternoon I called Multivision and I start there Monday. It will be nice to have a paycheck again. It was time to suck it up, and it will be interesting to explore Oakland, anyways, though I'm not excited to spend $5.50 a day on public transportation.
We finally bought our Christmas Plane Tickets to Green Bay! (Mom, I tried to email the itinerary to you, but your inbox is FULL. What's up with that?) Joe and I looked for hours Wednesday night and couldn't find anything under $650. That's right. So I said we'd have to just wait and see if they added more flights or figure out something else. I had nightmares about it that night! The next day an affordable flight popped up and I bought it on the spot. Luke, Joe and I will be in Wisconsin for almost a week.