Music, books, etc.

I've stumbled onto Jonathan Coulton, a hilarious singer/songwriter.  You can listen to all of his songs on his website (or on YouTube - he licenses them with Creative Commons by-nc).  My favorites at the moment are "Skullcrusher Mountain" (favorite line: "I'm so into you/but I'm way too smart for you") and "Code Monkey" ("His code not functional or elegant/What do code monkey think?/Code monkey think maybe program manager write goddamn login page himself").  The performance is half the fun; definitely worth a listen.

I read The Hunger Games last night.  I'm unsure how I feel about it.  On the one hand, it was definitely a compelling story and a well-done post-apocalyptic world.  At times, though, the writing felt a bit simplistic.  I think Katniss Everdeen is an excellent, highly compelling heroine, and all the plot twists are justified, if somewhat obvious.  I feel weird criticizing a book that kept me reading for two hours straight - maybe it's the fact that so many adults have been raving about this book.  Maybe that led me to expect more sophisticated writing.  I'm going to read Catching Fire and Mockingjay, but I think that the amount of hype surrounding The Hunger Games led me to expect a little more.  Had I just picked it up and read it, without having heard of it, I don't think I'd have most of the qualms.  And I would recommend it to others, with the caveat that it's definitely a young adult book.

More books coming in at the library; I will mention them when I get them.  Annoyingly, I haven't been able to place any more holds in the Berkeley library system - not sure what that's about.

I'm stalling terribly when it comes to my novel.  I've reached a point where I need to write a vital scene, kill a character that I have come to be quite fond of, and it's really hard for me to do.  First of all, I like this character a lot; second, it will have a huge impact on my main character, and I really want to do it justice.

I need to just lock myself in my room with a pen, notebook, and some sad unobtrusive music on my iPod and write the damn thing.

Library card at last

Yesterday, I got my Berkeley Public Library card.  It's so nice to have books again.  The South Branch, which is only a few blocks from my house, is quite a small library, but I found four books and have put another twelve on hold.  I'm thinking I'll make Saturdays my library day (it's closed on Sundays).  I'm also going to make a concerted effort to get books that I've never read before, instead of getting books that I've already read seven or eight times.


For this week, I have the following books:
1. Dark Lord of Derkholm, by Diana Wynne Jones
2. The Greatest Story Ever Sold: The Decline and Fall of Truth from 9/11 to Katrina, by Frank Rich
3. Run, by Ann Patchett
4. The Wordy Shipmates, by Sarah Vowell


I read Dark Lord of Derkholm last night and was a little disappointed.  The story felt scattered and incomplete - I got it because I love Howl's Moving Castle and thought that the Tough Guide to Fantasyland was hilarious, but Dark Lord of Derkholm didn't hold together as well for me.  It might be the sheer number of characters.


I'm now reading The Greatest Story Ever Sold, and next up is The Wordy Shipmates.  I'm saving Run as my treat for last.

Musings on grown-up life

Fair warning: I am about to say a bunch of things that make my bourgeois upbringing very obvious.  I understand that.  But since this is a blog that focuses in large part on my personal experiences, I think the following are reasonable observations about my own process of growing up.

I don't remember at what point in my life I began to know that everyday things cost money - things like peanut butter and toilet paper and pain medication and that kind of thing.  It would've been around the time I started getting an allowance and trying to save that allowance to buy things, mostly books - sometime in grade school, I'm guessing.  But now that I am living on my own, not just as a summer lease but for real, paying for groceries and all that, I'm realizing that I only knew intellectually that everything cost money.  

Maybe I was naive when I budgeted for Berkeley (actually, I'm sure I was naive - I don't understand how anyone lives in Berkeley without having a lot of disposable money, which I do not), but I forgot about things like the fact that toilet paper does not magically re-supply itself.  That laundry costs money, and even if you have change, you still need laundry detergent.  That if you don't want to buy hangers, you have to iron your shirts in the morning.  That if you want to scour a stainless steel pot, you need to buy a scouring pad.  That a cheap restaurant in the city costs more than a less-cheap restaurant nearby because you have to spend eight bucks on BART.  All the little costs of everything are hitting me now (OH GOD how can spices be so expensive?  I know many are imported, but really!  Four dollars an ounce?  I'm not buying drugs, people!).

I don't find all these little realizations fun, but I do enjoy it a little each time because I know I won't forget it next time.  I know I'll remember that store-brand ibuprofen is still damn expensive, and that dragging my purchased groceries from Berkeley Bowl over to Walgreens to buy cheaper milk and eggs can be worth it.

There are other excellent realizations I've had, things like the fact that you can only eat hunks of cheese or handfuls of toasted almonds for meals for a few days before your body demands some balanced goddamn meals.  I don't understand how I survived my years as a picky eater without going insane - I feel terrible if I go for more than a day or two without eating some vegetables.  I don't even really like plain pasta with butter anymore, I would rather have it with some pan-roasted broccoli to round it out.  I understand, like I didn't for years, that eating nothing but chocolate for lunch is a bad idea.

Growing up feels a lot like doing a bunch of sit-ups in a row (I'm a big fan of sit-ups); every single one is painful, but every time you go back down, you get another thrill of satisfaction.

Oh, San Francisco

This city - the whole Bay Area, in fact - is growing on me.  At first, I thought it was ridiculous that it doesn't rain the entire summer, and that anyone would pay five dollars for a dozen eggs (how does anyone ever make lemon curd?  Or frittata?  Or clafouti?).  I have enjoyed my first three weeks here, though, and I thought I'd share today's experience on BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit, like a subway or light-rail).


I boarded a SF-Daly City train at the Ashby BART station.  Didn't get a seat, but the train was fairly empty and I leaned against the partition by the door.  Something seemed off, though, and after a little while I realized that I kept expecting people to be speaking a different language.  Clearly I don't ride MAX enough in Portland, because apparently I associate trains with Paris and Buenos Aires.  My brain kept trying to figure out why there were so many Americans on this train.  Quite disorienting.


Then we stopped in Oakland, and forty men (literally) climbed into my train car.  They were all recently released ex-convicts in some kind of work program; I'm sure my mother has passed out with alarm at this point, but they were all very polite, giving me a reasonable personal bubble even though the car was packed.  They all had plastic bags with uniform clothes, and one man was a program director who kept telling them how many stops away they were.  Then they began talking about where they were in 1989, for some reason (I had headphones on, my usual approach, but only one earbud works).  One volunteered that he was in solitary, another said he was "already" in San Quentin, and two more said they had only just been born, which means they're younger than I am.


They filed off the train two stops before mine (24th Street Mission), and left the train very quiet, with a lingering smell of cigarette smoke and sweat.  I very much wanted to ask them what they were doing, but had just read this blog post and felt discretion was the better part of safety.  


On the ride back, I saw someone wearing an outrageous feathered outfit and cherished the hope that it might be someone dressed in drag - alas, no, it was just a very stern-looking blonde lady.  I've also come to the realization, based on today's experience and others, that everyone in the world must like to wear Converse more than I do.  Converse (Chuck Taylors, mostly) appear to be the official footwear of the Bay Area, and I...don't get it.  I mean, sure, they are decent shoes, in that they keep your feet off the ground.  They look reasonably cool.  They are reasonably comfortable.  I own a pair.  But they are no better than any other canvas sneaker - certainly more expensive - and I don't get the hipster obsession with them.  


Having just angered hipsters, I will now proceed to the hipster holy grail, i.e. Berkeley Bowl, and buy groceries.  I am going to bake banana bread, and I have more writing to do tonight.

Some days it's like pulling teeth...

and other days everything just works.  Why is that?  I schedule time for myself to write and nothing happens for days; then I have a beer, write a paragraph, fall asleep at 7 PM (yeah, that was an accident), wake up at 9 PM and write a thousand words of a pivotal scene.  I don't know why it works, but I love it when it works.


Tomorrow is the San Francisco Street Food Festival in the Mission; I am very much looking forward to it, though I will undoubtedly eat way too much and fall asleep riding BART home (not really, it's painfully loud).  Other plans for the weekend include the weekly bread-baking (mix on Saturday evening, bake Sunday afternoon) and lots of writing.


I played Jayber Crow for the office today and everyone seemed to like it; my playlist gradually sped up until I reached Daft Punk and The Prodigy, at which point I decided it might qualify as a disruptive work environment.  But people were dancing.  I call that a win.

Progress at last!

I think I've figured out the secret of actually working on my novel.  
- Number one, lose internet access.   Without internet, I suddenly lose about 90% of my distractions.  
- Number two, write by hand, preferably with a good pen.  After spending eight hours at work intensely examining my computer screen, my eyes need a break.  Plus, if I'm writing by hand, there's no temptation to quickly check my email.  
- Number three, find a good soundtrack and put it on repeat.  I know some people can't write if there's music playing, but I find that having three or four songs with a good fast beat on repeat means that I'm never interested enough in the music to devote my full attention to it, but I'm still always motivated by the beat.


I wrote about 2500 words last night, after a week plus of not writing anything [novel-related].  Something must be working.


I still don't have internet at my house; right now I'm sitting in Sweet Adeline, the delicious bakery next to OLL HQ (yes, on my weekend.  Internet is important!), enjoying coffee and a pecan cinnamon bun.  Which reminds me, at some point I'm going to make cinnamon buns and post it on my food blog...maybe when I can afford milk.

Tumblr - I give in!

Lately I've fallen a bit in love with tumblr - especially for photo-heavy posts.  From now on, all food posts will be at See Girl Cook, and I will return to focusing on writing 

New place: needs food

I've moved to what I hope will be my residence for the duration of my time in Berkeley.  It's a beautiful house in south Berkeley, and even better, it has a fully functional kitchen including a nice big oven.  To celebrate, I'm going to make a loaf of bread for future sandwiches (I've made this bread before with excellent results), and for dinner I will borrow Smitten Kitchen's pizza dough recipe and make some veggie pizza.  I may also cook rice so I can make fried rice tomorrow.  This means another trip to Berkeley Bowl - hooray!  They have the kind of produce section you can get lost in, and most of the vegetables are amazingly inexpensive, even organic.  Sadly, I can't get a library card unless I have proof of California residence, so I'll have to stick to online recipes for now.  Any recommendations?


Still stalled on the writing front, but I swear I'm going to sit down today (probably while the bread is rising), outline the plot, and write at least 1000 more words.  I have plenty of time to get this done, and a challenge to win.  I admit I'm a little concerned for November - you see, there is a novel that I desperately want to write, to the point that I keep hearing lines for it echoing in my head, but I'm determined to save it for use as my NaNoWriMo 2010 novel and finish rewriting my old novel.  Why?  Mostly for the sake of self-discipline, actually.  And because I bet a friend that I could rewrite the old novel by November 1.  Failure results in dire consequences.


Off to Berkeley Bowl for flour, yeast, and more vegetables.  Mmmm, food.  Also, new posts are up at Book-Bound Writers; Shayda and I will be posting on Sundays and Wednesdays from now on.

Welcome to the real world

I've been negligent about posting lately in the rush to pack up all my stuff and prepare for the big move to Berkeley.  Today is moving day; I'm currently at the Portland Airport, waiting.  I was actually supposed to be landing in Oakland about now, but Horizon Air helpfully cancelled my flight at the last minute and only through my fabulous travel agent (my mom) was I able to get on a Southwest flight departing around 5 PM.  Southwest has big leather armchairs, free wi-fi, and lots of electrical outlets in the gate area, so my next three hours in the airport should be quite pleasant.


I've fallen behind on my 1000 words per day vow as well, but am determined to resume it, especially since a) I need to win the bet with my friend that prompted it and b) it will be excellent practice for NaNoWriMo.  I keep meaning to write an outline that could guide my re-writing, but so far have not been successful.


Last night was quite the culinary triumph.  We did an early birthday celebration for my mom, and I made fresh beet ravioli filled with goat cheese and beet medallions, sauced with brown butter and toasted walnuts, for dinner.  I had an inclination to make some kind of salad with the beet greens, but didn't really have time.  For dessert, I made a lemon souffle tart with raspberries.  The entire meal was delicious and came together very well.


Tomorrow is my first day as an intern for the Office of Letters and Light - another reason to get back to writing, since failing at NaNoWriMo this year is not an option.