Although I have no prospects for motherhood anytime soon, or perhaps ever, I do have moments where I make decisions related to that stage in my life, should it ever come about. It's not that I long for it, really, but I think I'm at that age where I am observing, listening and making silent decisions about all the things I want or don't want, whether it be regarding parenting or anything else that full of impact on my character.
I've actually thought about names for my children (should I have any), and for years have mentally collected and made a list of the names I like. Today, I mentally locked down on the name I have been intrigued by and courting for a daughter. It is ancient, beautiful and belongs to an ancient queen, whose story is the stuff of legends, despite how real it is.
As for the name, well, that, my dearies, is now a secret--not because someone might steal it, but because I like a surprise . . . .
Saturday, August 22, 2009
So you know what I did this summer.
And, I'm back on my blog, not sure for how long. Another Ramadan has begun and it's hard to believe that it has already been a year since my life completely changed. I don't know if it's the age I am now, or my school-slash-editor-in-chief stint this past year, but I'm a lot happier now than I can remember being since I turned ten. I'm definitely a lot more comfortable with myself and being in my own skin. What could possibly make a person happier than to be happy with oneself? I just don't know, but I am willing to bet the answer is absolutely nothing.
I've been doing a variety of things since my school and newspaper editor stint ended. I've been doing a lot of reading, writing, researching, knitting, teaching myself how to crochet, and getting into things I never thought I'd get into (not that crocheting isn't something I never imagined I'd get into . . . ). For fun, I've been utilizing Netflix like never before, thanks to their instant viewing feature. At first, I started out watching just movies, but then I got into the TV shows. So far, I've become engrossed with two shows: Californication and Dexter. I guess I like Showtime. Both shows feature characters with messed up lives, but have as straight heads as they can manage, given (again) their messed up lives.
I especially like the fact that Californication is about a big-shot writer living in LA, hating it and suffering from writer's block, all while battling various demons-- I'm not a big-shot writer, nor do I live in LA or have a sex or drug addiction, but I am a writer and I do suffer from writer's block while I battle my own set of demons. It's a little over-the-top with the sex, especially in the first three episodes or so, but there is enough substance and backstory to make up for the shameless nudity and sex, which tapers off at just the right time to give way to a deeper, more complex character one can sympathize with. The first scene in the pilot is a little on the offensive side, but again, it's how TV shows hook those who need such cheap antics to start watching something beyond Big Brother.
Dexter was a little hard to get into. For one thing, I've read and seen American Psycho. For another, I had the feeling that Dexter Morgan, the title character, is nothing more than Patrick Bateman's (THE American Psycho) and the Vampire Lestat's (from Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles) love child, living in a world reminiscent of of CSI's Miami. He is an empty ruthless killer, who only kills those who he decides deserve to die-- I find that contradictory, if you ask me. It was also hard to get into, because of Dexter's foster sister, Deborah Morgan. In the first couple of episodes, I hoped that her run on the show was a trial and that she would be replaced for sucking, but someone talked to her and got her to stop annoying me. After that, I decided I really liked Dexter, the show, as well as character. Although I've been able to catch many references/connections to American Psycho (Dr. Patrick Bateman, Sean Ellis), and although I still see Lestat's discriminatory picking of subjects to kill, I do feel that Dexter is a character all on his own, because above everything else, he is going through a sort of awakening that we are witnessing. If it was just about an empty serial killer who has been taught to kill only those who deserve to be, then we would've started at the very beginning of Dexter's darkness, not after he's perfected it. Of course, this is only my humble opinion.
Another thing I've gotten into is getting in touch with people whom I haven't seen since... a loooong time. When I first started using Facebook I wanted nothing of the sort to happen, because I didn't feel like I wanted anything to do with people from my past. I wanted them to stay in the past, because I felt that I had changed too much to have much in common with them anymore. I was proven wrong when I met up with some old friends from high school and found that those I thought were the coolest, are actually not so cool, and those who I didn't have too much of a connection with back in those days are actually great people I would love to have in my life now. It's strange, but it's also nice, because it feels like you're making new friends, when really you're not having to worry about all you have to worry about with completely new friends.
Finally, I finally listened to my ninth-grade English teacher and read To Kill a Mockingbird. It would make Mrs. Gerard very happy to know that I am ready to give a book report on this classic. She, however, might not like what I have to say in my report... I think outside of school it is called a review. Well, it's certainly a good book. The characters are very well-written and distinct. The book delivers what it promises, which is life in a sleepy small town in Alabama during the depression, through the eyes of a ten-year-old girl. Well, it was sixteen years ago that Mrs. Gerard asked me to read this book among many, and although my mind has grown very much since that time, I think I was right all those years ago to assume that this book is pretty boring. I liked Atticus a whole lot, and although Scout, his daughter and the narrator, talks a lot about him, he doesn't get near enough time. Most of the book is dedicated to Boo Radley and other rather insignificant characters that come and go without much purpose. The most exciting part of the book takes up maybe fifty pages at the most, then sort of fizzles out with sleepy small town stuff that ended up frustrating me. I'm not being very articulate perhaps, or even very detailed in my review of Harper Lee's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, but I think it is clear that although I recognize that this book possesses all the components of a literary classic, it lacks the profoundness and excitement I crave in the books I choose to read and enjoy. I'm afraid To Kill a Mockingbird is a little over-rated in my book... sorry, Mrs. Gerard.
I've been doing a variety of things since my school and newspaper editor stint ended. I've been doing a lot of reading, writing, researching, knitting, teaching myself how to crochet, and getting into things I never thought I'd get into (not that crocheting isn't something I never imagined I'd get into . . . ). For fun, I've been utilizing Netflix like never before, thanks to their instant viewing feature. At first, I started out watching just movies, but then I got into the TV shows. So far, I've become engrossed with two shows: Californication and Dexter. I guess I like Showtime. Both shows feature characters with messed up lives, but have as straight heads as they can manage, given (again) their messed up lives.
I especially like the fact that Californication is about a big-shot writer living in LA, hating it and suffering from writer's block, all while battling various demons-- I'm not a big-shot writer, nor do I live in LA or have a sex or drug addiction, but I am a writer and I do suffer from writer's block while I battle my own set of demons. It's a little over-the-top with the sex, especially in the first three episodes or so, but there is enough substance and backstory to make up for the shameless nudity and sex, which tapers off at just the right time to give way to a deeper, more complex character one can sympathize with. The first scene in the pilot is a little on the offensive side, but again, it's how TV shows hook those who need such cheap antics to start watching something beyond Big Brother.
Dexter was a little hard to get into. For one thing, I've read and seen American Psycho. For another, I had the feeling that Dexter Morgan, the title character, is nothing more than Patrick Bateman's (THE American Psycho) and the Vampire Lestat's (from Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles) love child, living in a world reminiscent of of CSI's Miami. He is an empty ruthless killer, who only kills those who he decides deserve to die-- I find that contradictory, if you ask me. It was also hard to get into, because of Dexter's foster sister, Deborah Morgan. In the first couple of episodes, I hoped that her run on the show was a trial and that she would be replaced for sucking, but someone talked to her and got her to stop annoying me. After that, I decided I really liked Dexter, the show, as well as character. Although I've been able to catch many references/connections to American Psycho (Dr. Patrick Bateman, Sean Ellis), and although I still see Lestat's discriminatory picking of subjects to kill, I do feel that Dexter is a character all on his own, because above everything else, he is going through a sort of awakening that we are witnessing. If it was just about an empty serial killer who has been taught to kill only those who deserve to be, then we would've started at the very beginning of Dexter's darkness, not after he's perfected it. Of course, this is only my humble opinion.
Another thing I've gotten into is getting in touch with people whom I haven't seen since... a loooong time. When I first started using Facebook I wanted nothing of the sort to happen, because I didn't feel like I wanted anything to do with people from my past. I wanted them to stay in the past, because I felt that I had changed too much to have much in common with them anymore. I was proven wrong when I met up with some old friends from high school and found that those I thought were the coolest, are actually not so cool, and those who I didn't have too much of a connection with back in those days are actually great people I would love to have in my life now. It's strange, but it's also nice, because it feels like you're making new friends, when really you're not having to worry about all you have to worry about with completely new friends.
Finally, I finally listened to my ninth-grade English teacher and read To Kill a Mockingbird. It would make Mrs. Gerard very happy to know that I am ready to give a book report on this classic. She, however, might not like what I have to say in my report... I think outside of school it is called a review. Well, it's certainly a good book. The characters are very well-written and distinct. The book delivers what it promises, which is life in a sleepy small town in Alabama during the depression, through the eyes of a ten-year-old girl. Well, it was sixteen years ago that Mrs. Gerard asked me to read this book among many, and although my mind has grown very much since that time, I think I was right all those years ago to assume that this book is pretty boring. I liked Atticus a whole lot, and although Scout, his daughter and the narrator, talks a lot about him, he doesn't get near enough time. Most of the book is dedicated to Boo Radley and other rather insignificant characters that come and go without much purpose. The most exciting part of the book takes up maybe fifty pages at the most, then sort of fizzles out with sleepy small town stuff that ended up frustrating me. I'm not being very articulate perhaps, or even very detailed in my review of Harper Lee's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, but I think it is clear that although I recognize that this book possesses all the components of a literary classic, it lacks the profoundness and excitement I crave in the books I choose to read and enjoy. I'm afraid To Kill a Mockingbird is a little over-rated in my book... sorry, Mrs. Gerard.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Save Dakota!
Here's a little riddle for you: How can a dog get hold of an infant, drag it out of a house, unbeknownst to its parents, and go so far as to spark an actual search by the parents for the infant’s whereabouts?
This is a question I ask after having read an article about an incident involving a four-year-old Native American Indian dog going off with a four-day-old newborn in its mouth, causing injuries that left the baby in critical condition at the hospital. Of course, the dog, Dakota, is now considered dangerous, a threat and a menace and has been handed over to animal control. Her fate, most likely, death.
Though I can imagine what horror it might have been to live through such an incident as a parent, and the anguish a parent must feel toward any creature hurting their child, I simply cannot wrap my head around destroying an animal for being just that—an animal. Especially when the evidence is there that the parents themselves are responsible for letting such events transpire in the first place.
Everybody knows that dogs, or any animal really, can unexpectedly do things that are harmful to humans. Before I get to the core of my argument, however, let me mention that these lovely parents hailing from Lexington, Kentucky, actually left their child alone in a room with a dog roaming around freely—a dog with wolf ancestry, mind you. Now, whether you believe that four-day-old infants should never be left alone for any period of time, or believe that leaving your children alone when you have a breed of dog that even home insurance companies want you to be extra cautious about by raising your premium is totally and completely idiotic—the bottom line is, in my opinion, that these parents are solely responsible for this mishap.
If anybody ought to be punished for this tragedy, it is the parents for being so irresponsible as to leave a newborn alone in the first place; that was offense number one. Offense number two, is to leave the newborn alone with a large dog roaming freely.
I’ve never been a parent, but I’d like to think (and know I am totally wrong to do so) that common sense is a rather universal thing, and with common sense comes the knowledge that leaving a newborn alone in a room long enough for a dog to figure out how to get it out of a crib and out of the house is, well, bad parenting.
I vote for Dakota’s life to be spared and for her to spend the remainder of her years away from such bad owners, who ought to be paid a visit by social services, if for nothing else than for a little lesson in common sense for the welfare of their poor child-- who I’m happy to report is in stable condition and expected to pull through.
This is a question I ask after having read an article about an incident involving a four-year-old Native American Indian dog going off with a four-day-old newborn in its mouth, causing injuries that left the baby in critical condition at the hospital. Of course, the dog, Dakota, is now considered dangerous, a threat and a menace and has been handed over to animal control. Her fate, most likely, death.
Though I can imagine what horror it might have been to live through such an incident as a parent, and the anguish a parent must feel toward any creature hurting their child, I simply cannot wrap my head around destroying an animal for being just that—an animal. Especially when the evidence is there that the parents themselves are responsible for letting such events transpire in the first place.
Everybody knows that dogs, or any animal really, can unexpectedly do things that are harmful to humans. Before I get to the core of my argument, however, let me mention that these lovely parents hailing from Lexington, Kentucky, actually left their child alone in a room with a dog roaming around freely—a dog with wolf ancestry, mind you. Now, whether you believe that four-day-old infants should never be left alone for any period of time, or believe that leaving your children alone when you have a breed of dog that even home insurance companies want you to be extra cautious about by raising your premium is totally and completely idiotic—the bottom line is, in my opinion, that these parents are solely responsible for this mishap.
If anybody ought to be punished for this tragedy, it is the parents for being so irresponsible as to leave a newborn alone in the first place; that was offense number one. Offense number two, is to leave the newborn alone with a large dog roaming freely.
I’ve never been a parent, but I’d like to think (and know I am totally wrong to do so) that common sense is a rather universal thing, and with common sense comes the knowledge that leaving a newborn alone in a room long enough for a dog to figure out how to get it out of a crib and out of the house is, well, bad parenting.
I vote for Dakota’s life to be spared and for her to spend the remainder of her years away from such bad owners, who ought to be paid a visit by social services, if for nothing else than for a little lesson in common sense for the welfare of their poor child-- who I’m happy to report is in stable condition and expected to pull through.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Putting my energy elsewhere...
I haven't blogged in a while, but not because there isn't anything going on. I guess I just don't feel like blogging is what I want to put my writing energy into right now, because I've been putting my writing energy into a more productive endeavor.
Remember my book proposal for a novel set during the last days of the Abbasid Caliphate, right before the Mongols strike a deadly blow to the city of Baghdad? I kept it on the back burner for a while, because I became intimidated by it. My expectations were too high and I found myself feeling overwhelmed after I began gathering the materials needed for the research on the period I meant to cover. Also, even though I had a sort of rough outline of a plot, it was so faint that the magnitude of the research overshadowed it-- if that makes any sense.
Now, even though I'm still feeling a little overwhelmed by the research, I'm taking it one step at a time and not getting ahead of myself. As a result, I'm actually writing while I research, which helps me work the plot a lot more, because it relies heavily on historic events that need to fit in order for the story to work the way I want it to. I'm pretty excited about the progress I'm making and the bits I'm gathering with the research. I've even got a sort of routine going: I read for research during the day and at night, which is when I am mentally able to sit down and focus enough to write for some weird reason, I write. It's pretty cool.
Remember my book proposal for a novel set during the last days of the Abbasid Caliphate, right before the Mongols strike a deadly blow to the city of Baghdad? I kept it on the back burner for a while, because I became intimidated by it. My expectations were too high and I found myself feeling overwhelmed after I began gathering the materials needed for the research on the period I meant to cover. Also, even though I had a sort of rough outline of a plot, it was so faint that the magnitude of the research overshadowed it-- if that makes any sense.
Now, even though I'm still feeling a little overwhelmed by the research, I'm taking it one step at a time and not getting ahead of myself. As a result, I'm actually writing while I research, which helps me work the plot a lot more, because it relies heavily on historic events that need to fit in order for the story to work the way I want it to. I'm pretty excited about the progress I'm making and the bits I'm gathering with the research. I've even got a sort of routine going: I read for research during the day and at night, which is when I am mentally able to sit down and focus enough to write for some weird reason, I write. It's pretty cool.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Thoughts from Tuesday
I don’t usually drive my sister to work, but I had to do that Tuesday morning. On the way, we stopped at McDonald’s and grabbed coffee. I’ve never really gotten into the coffee thing, but I occasionally enjoy a cup of plain black coffee with cream. So, McDonald’s coffee. Wow. That’s some really good stuff. Though I will still only get coffee every once in a blue moon, I will make it McDonald’s instead of Starbucks.
Another thought: Starbucks is completely overrated. Their coffee stinks, and I mean that literally. The last time I got coffee at Starbucks, it not only tasted awful, but it also smelled like fish. That’s right, fish. I went and complained and they replaced my cup, but the smell and taste didn’t change. Because of that, I pretty much vowed to never get coffee at Starbucks and have always gotten passion tea lemonade there since.
Another another thought: There is nothing more wonderful than a spring morning. Unless, of course, it is a spring morning, with Mozart playing, a nice cup of hot delicious coffee and a good book to read. I had to wait on Tuesday morning, because I got to an appointment too early, so I started reading a book called The Kite Runner. By Tuesday evening I had read over 120 pages and become so engrossed in this book, I was already recommending it to anyone who’d listen to me rave about it. It’s one of those works that one becomes awed and haunted by for its superb writing, well-crafted characters and beautiful story. The setting is Afghanistan—the Afghanistan on the brink of revolution and war in the late 70s and part of the 80s. It is about a boy and his servant. It is about acceptance, love, loyalty and betrayal. I make it sound so simple and almost cliché, but it’s truly a great book I can’t put down. There is nothing better than a book you can’t put down.
Another thought: Starbucks is completely overrated. Their coffee stinks, and I mean that literally. The last time I got coffee at Starbucks, it not only tasted awful, but it also smelled like fish. That’s right, fish. I went and complained and they replaced my cup, but the smell and taste didn’t change. Because of that, I pretty much vowed to never get coffee at Starbucks and have always gotten passion tea lemonade there since.
Another another thought: There is nothing more wonderful than a spring morning. Unless, of course, it is a spring morning, with Mozart playing, a nice cup of hot delicious coffee and a good book to read. I had to wait on Tuesday morning, because I got to an appointment too early, so I started reading a book called The Kite Runner. By Tuesday evening I had read over 120 pages and become so engrossed in this book, I was already recommending it to anyone who’d listen to me rave about it. It’s one of those works that one becomes awed and haunted by for its superb writing, well-crafted characters and beautiful story. The setting is Afghanistan—the Afghanistan on the brink of revolution and war in the late 70s and part of the 80s. It is about a boy and his servant. It is about acceptance, love, loyalty and betrayal. I make it sound so simple and almost cliché, but it’s truly a great book I can’t put down. There is nothing better than a book you can’t put down.
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