Grumblings About Store Reorganization

My posts have become infrequent because, well, there just hasn’t been much going on in my head, really. Most of my time is spent sleeping or reading or rearranging that last pile of boxes to look smaller, somehow. I appear to have developed a need for a mid-afternoon nap, which is slightly embarrassing although not surprising after three weeks of sick and insomnia and moving. I think my body has taken the bit between the teeth and is now setting its own sleep-rules, denying my conscious mind of any input. I can’t seem to focus on work for any long period of time, and I think I’m undergoing an enforced vacation imposed by psyche and physical body alike.

It’s kind of a relief, actually.

I went downtown today to HMV to pick up a couple of recordings to help me out as I practice for orchestra, because I’m getting really frustrated. When I got there, I spent time upstairs in the relaxing classical section, bought the required CDs (three for $20, I feel so smug) then went downstairs to the basement to cast a quick eye over the soundtracks.

They’ve moved everything around. Again.

It made me grumpy, although the terrible, awful, horrible music they were playing might have had something to do with that as well. Then, I thought I’d check on the new DVDs releases, since it’s been forever since I’ve been in HMV, but the massive DVD section had somehow shrunk to a measly two displays and that little room once devoted to film is now acid. I walked around it in disbelief – what, had they decided to stop selling DVDs or something? – and finally went back upstairs to the main level, where I discovered that they had moved the DVD section there, so unsuspecting clients walk right smack into the stuff (unless, of course, you avoid the main floor like the plague, as I do, and head right upstairs for jazz and classical.). I walked through it to get my bearings and saw way, way too many movies I wanted to own in among the 2-for-$30 stickers. I was trying to decide which two to whittle my vast list down to when I realised my folly and made my escape into the clear cold morning. If I trip across a couple of hundred dollars, I know where I’m going.

I’ll just have to bring a guide with me, because they no doubt will have hidden what I want from me between now and then.

New Article Published!

Urk. When I wasn’t looking, the Owlyblog’s counter passed 10K. How did that happen?

My commentary on Oscar-nominated Lilo & Stitch has been officially web-published, and is up over at the fps site! It’s a five-fold project that looks at all the films nominated for Best Animated Feature Film category this year, each film examined by a different writer in a different light. The project centres around how each Oscar-nominated film stands for something within the animation industry, as opposed to “reviewing” or commenting on “Oscar-worthiness”. It was a really interesting exercise, and I enjoyed it a lot. I thank all the gods out there that Emru responded to the cry of “Who edits the editor?”, so that errors could be corrected and things flowed better. I can fix other people’s writing, but I’m always too involved with my own abstracts and thesis statements to do a final polish on my own work, because I know what I was trying to say all along.

By the way, do you think spring’s finally catching up with the calendar? Winter’s only got another three days, after all.

Shame!

And now, to put aside personal pride, and wallow in shame.

I have completely lost track of the date and the days of the week, and therefore I missed Talyesin’s birthday.

Mea culpa, big brother. So…

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TAL!!!

I promise to grovel more later. Maybe at Hurley’s, so we can all buy you copious amounts of alcohol over a long period of time, while still drinking responsibly.

On Convincing Oneself That One Really Is Worth It

Ever feel like you’re racing to catch up with everyone else’s opinion of you?

I do, all the time. Skippy got me thinking about it this morning. Some of it is, “Why do they like hanging around with me so much?”, and some of it is, “I can’t possibly charge that much for my time.”

My husband sat me down last night, took my hands, and said, “Darling, I want to tell you something, and you have to promise to listen. You’re an awesome, awesome person. Far more awesome than you believe yourself to be. You can perceive the awesome in others, so why can’t you perceive it in yourself?”

Well, it’s embarrassing. As kids, we were mostly taught that to accept a compliment was to be selfish. It’s more modest to demur, to protest politely. We were also schooled to believe that pride was a bad thing. So if you were good at something, you weren’t allowed to appreciate your skill, or to even really have fun at it in case you made other people feel bad.

Then, of course, there was the geek factor. If you enjoyed reading, liked to be alone, had any interest in music other than the mainstream, films other than action or comedy, or technology other than a phone and a vending machine, you were uncool, and you resorted to lurking and not calling attention to yourself.

What has all that socialisation produced? A generation of people who have difficulty understanding that they’re cool people. What, me deserve something? (Praise, money, social interest, whatever?) No, no. Please, stop. It’s not just that you’re embarrassing me, you’re actually making me uncomfortable and self-conscious because like so many others, I can’t truly understand why you think I’m so great.

Argh. Scores of us are out there. Scads. Bushels.

It’s probably all connected to how incredibly bad some of us are at selling ourselves. Almost everyone I know hates writing a cover letter for a CV, because it feels like exactly that: selling yourself.

A healthy dose of pride in the self is a good thing. Now, if I could just cultivate it…

Stoppard Adapts Pullman

I’ve been meaning to post this for a few days now:

Tom Stoppard is adapting a script for Philip Pullman’s The Golden Compass for New Line Cinema.

How cool is that?

(If you’re as cooled out by this as I was, and you’re wondering how on earth they’re going to pull it off, there’s a rather amusing ‘what-if’ scene about the pitch etc here. And the fan site Bridge To The Stars is pretty decent all around.)

Building Models And Letting Them Go Free…

I’m a geek, which is hardly news to you. I’m a geek who has actually built starship models in the past. Nothing recently, alas (although I have a Lego X-Wing in a chest just awaiting the day I throw off the covers and know deep in my bones that it’s a Star Wars Lego day and nothing can stop me!), because I just don’t have the time or space these days. My Excelsior and X-Wing models have survived three moves in the past seven years, and have always been on top of my bookshelves or on windowsills somewhere in my apartment.

Well, during this move, they finally broke. Not into little bits, either – big breaks that really can’t be fixed without a lot of epoxy, prayers, and about five hands to hold it as it dries. So the Excelsior got tossed last week, and this week when I came across my poor shattered X-Wing, I sighed, said good-bye, and placed it right on top of the box I’ve been using to collect further rubbish.

Well, yesterday as I worked on my article about Disney’s use of SF in Lilo & Stitch (yes, I’ll let you know when it’s published on the fps site – remember fps from its print days?), my little black kitten was sitting on the desk, watching me. I was vaguely aware of her presence — one cannot ignore relentless cuteness — but I suddenly snapped into reality when I heard a soft grinding noise. I glanced sideways and saw Nix, her amber eyes on mine, dreamily chewing on an S-foil, with the occasional delicate nibble on an engine casing.

I yelped and waved my hands, and she leapt away, startled. Then I realised that my fierce protection was unwarranted, since it was in the garbage anyway, and I began to laugh. I could almost hear her wail as she streaked under the dining room table: “It’s only a little more carbon scoring, Mummy, and you did such a wonderful job on the carbon scoring….”