Better Late Than Never

So I heard about something pretty funny last night at dinner. I'm not much of a YouTube girl, so I'm always hearing about gems like this way late. But I thought I'd post it anyway in case I'm not really the last person in the world to hear about it. Also: as I watched this ad, all I could think about was the fact that it's like an autobiography of my brother. I'm not sure how I feel about this.

Squirrel Love (aka Me + Manfriend)

You know that thing that encapsulates your relationship so perfectly that you feel like it was made about you?

This would be that.

OK, not exactly (close). But it makes me really happy. And want my own tail to wrap Manfriend up in. (And my own kangaroo pouch, too, while we're at it. But that's a subject for another post.)

Characters That Bite

This lovely post by my best friend Eve got me all kinds of excited about TrueBlood. Not that it's out in Australia or anything: no, we're the last kid picked for the HBO series team. I love what Alan Ball has done with the Sookie Stackhouse series; the show, and the novels that inspired them, were the fantastical fluff that got me through my last semester of grad school. I just finished book #10 in the series and was struck, once again, by the kind of loyalty certain characters can inspire. It fascinates me that you can actually say to someone "Team Bill or Eric?" and have them nod sagely and give you an actual answer.

Say what you will about Charlaine Harris or Stephanie Meyer, you can't deny that they've created characters that almost literally jump from the page and into the waiting arms of their many many fans.

So what it is about these characters (OK, besides the blatantly obvious) that inspires so much fervor? What is it about any fictional character that makes them feel tangible, even lovable? What makes us cry for them, laugh with them, want to throw food at them (or eat it off of them)? For me, it's always about their voice. I'm nothing like Harris's Sookie - in fact, she drives me crazy half of the time - but I love experiencing the world through her particular voice. I can feel her attitude in every word she says, so much so that it makes her feel familiar. I'd love to create characters like that, ones that make you want to reach out and touch them.

Until then, I'll borrow this one.

New Jobs and Paychecks and CARS, Oh My!

I've driven a lot of junk heaps in my time.

First, there was the 1983 baby-blue reliant. The same car that featured in the 'drive-by shooting' scene of some teen flick that was popular at the time (Save The Last Dance, maybe?). Oh, how I wish I had access to my old photo collection so that I could show you how absurd this vehicle was for a 16 year old girl... for a girl... for anyone, really. It was a massive box of an old man car (and was, in retrospect, a safe car to drive, even if it did take 10 minutes to warm up in winter and shuddered dubiously every time it was started up. When it obliged to start up at all).

While it may sound as if this car couldn't have gotten much more glorious, it could. I had to tape black garbage bags over the right side windows after they got shot out by some rich kid's bb gun. They would flap loudly in the breeze at any speed- I got pointed to and laughed at when I pulled up to lights (why it didn't occur to me to cling wrap them so I could actually see around right-hand curves is beyond me).

That car saw me drive myself into my first accident- well, me and half of my best friend's family, when I drove us all (slowly, mind you) over the small icy bridgeway and down into a dry, rocky creek (I'd estimate it was maybe a six-foot plunge). The car flipped in excruciatingly slow motion onto its back like a fallen turtle, leaving us all hanging awkwardly upside-down from our seat belts. The absurdity was exacerbated by the fact that all of my paraphernalia- bras, shin guards, old bags of chips- were hanging like ornaments from every open door and window. It because the Charlton's "favorite Christmas ornament" and sat there for weeks like a giant blue matchstick.

I could go on about the cars that I had after that- my favorite (oh yes, that was meant to be sarcastic) being the gold Volvo with the crank sun-roof- but you get the idea. They were all pretty awful, but they all (more or less) worked. And it is because of those cars that I am so excited about THIS one:

This 2008 Swift is my first new car. My first self-funded car. My first flashy conveyor to freedom. And I think that's worthy of a blog post.

Finding Time

I've been kind of bad about posting lately. Probably because, in the past two weeks, I've

A) Started a new, challenging and lovely job, B) Gotten my first 'big girl' car, C) Have had to learn how to drive said car on the left-hand side of the road (while sitting on the left-hand side of the car... is this blowing your mind? D) Umm... I've started a new job. I know I said that already. But really, for me, it's kind of huge.

I'm an Assistant Editor at a publishing company that produces maps and travel guides, which couldn't really be more up my alley. I could bore you with the number of interesting things I've learned in my first two weeks on the job, but I figure I'll stick to the most vital stats.

1. There is a tree in the Kimberley called the shitwood tree. This was mentioned in a guide because apparently, not only does this tree make your campsite stink if you throw a log of it on your fire, but it makes your food taste like... well, you know.

2. There is a website called 'toilet map of Australia' through which you can locate every public toilet that this great nation has to offer. "Add your favorite toilet!" and "Bookmark toilets for future use" were both used in the site's description. I shit you not (pun intended). ((Yes, these are the things that light up my existence.))

Over the past two weeks, my head has been filled with new names and new knowledge. When I'm not working, I'm eating or sleeping (sometimes dreaming about screwing up at work, just for fun). Which brings me to the ultimate writer's dilemma: when the hell am I going to write?!?

I know I'm maybe the zillionth writer who has had to face this problem. There are people who have lots of babies AND full time jobs and still manage to do write (freaks... just kidding?). Who am I to complain, right? I've tried writing before work, but I'm not much of a morning person. My brain (and my creativity) refuse to function before 8AM. Plus that's when I call friends and family and do pre-work things like straighten my hair and make sure I smell fresh. Then there's nighttime, when I'm tired from the day and don't always feel like going to the zone. Writing at night makes my brain come to life, so it becomes kind of difficult to shut it up again. Trying to sleep with my brain running full speed has proven to be a treacherous undertaking. You know when you go into a sort of half-sleep, only to come to and find yourself yelling out nonsense at your confused partner about theses and deadlines and his having FORGOTTEN TO FOLD my laundry?!? (Even when he didn't?) Yeah. Not cute.

So, that leaves me with lunchtime (not ideal), the afternoon (also not ideal), and the beginnings of insomnia.

So how about it, intrepid worker bees? How do you find time for your passions? What have you had to give up or change to make space in your routine for the things you really care about?

Enquiring minds need to know.

You're Welcome.

So, this isn't new, but when my lovely friend showed it to me over the holidays, it was new to me. I needed a pick-me-up today. I'm thinking that maybe you could use one, too.

You're more than welcome.