New Generation Science Fiction?

Okay, so I'm about six years late to the party. That doesn't mean I'm not opinionated about it.

I've been watching Lost on Netflix streaming - I'm almost through season two now - and while I agree that it's better than most of what's on television these days, I just don't get what the big damn deal is. It's basically just a science fiction series, except that I guess most TV and film sci-fi is the green-aliens-with-antennae type, not the subtle, almost like the world we know but not, type. Doesn't anyone read Ray Bradbury anymore?

What really bugs me, though, is that the characters on this show are completely naive idiots. Almost every one of them will believe anything anyone tells them, and in spite of the constant trouble and confusion and death caused purely by people keeping secrets they insist on keeping them, on grinding their own personal axes. I'm not saying that's necessarily unrealistic, but it seriously pisses me off. Over 40-some episodes I've grown to hate almost all of the people on this island. Dudes - get over yourselves.

I do, however, enjoy the Hawaiian scenery. And the fact that all these overpaid actors spend so much of their time drenched and sandy.

But now I've gotta go - I've got the season two finale to watch.

All the fun and none of the work.

Go to www.dooce.com and watch videos of her baby. Who is adorable. Because watching those videos is almost like getting to play with a baby (who is adorable) without having to change diapers or panic about the kid finding a way to accidentally kill herself in the three seconds that you've got your back turned. It's fantastic!

Monday, Monday

The beauty of being unable to get off the sofa and do anything is that you have the opportunity to do a lot of reading, watching, and listening. I'm currently taking this chance to listen to Neil Gaiman read his own story: The Graveyard Book. It's crazy. It's kind of brilliant. It's totally bizarre. It makes me remember why I love stories. Read it - or, if you can, get a recording of the author reading it to you.

In other news...

Perhaps the strangest-sounding recipe I've ever encountered, but definitely one I plan to make again. And probably again and again. Possibly with modifications, possibly without. Give up? A chickpea chocolate cake. Not chickpea flour, chickpeas. That's right. I found it here http://bakecookeatmove.blogspot.com/2009/09/nearly-guilt-free-kinda-healthy.html and I totally recommend it.

I had to process the chickpeas and eggs half at a time, because the only food processor I have access to is my parents' Presto Minnie Max pint-sized one. But the recipe still worked fine. In fact, it's quite delicious. I'm curious what would happen with a little flour of some kind - maybe sweet rice or tapioca. If I find out, I'll let you know.

Baking took it out of me. I'm going back to lying on the sofa and listening to Neil Gaiman. Enjoy your Monday afternoon!

Making It Work

I’m the world’s all-time best ever temp. Every temp assignment I’ve ever had has been extended – once from the initial two days to an eventual seven months, and they were disappointed when I had to leave because I moved out of state. Now here I am temping again, on an assignment that was supposed to be two weeks but has already been four and will be at least one more. I am so proud to have taken my Harvard degree and become a career office temp.

This has become the story of “making it work” (thank you, Tim Gunn). I have debt to pay off and am apparently completely undesirable to all employers other than temp agents, and so I temp. For the devil. I am answering phones in a Philip Morris office. Many of the individual people here have been extremely nice, and the job is rather laid back as far as office gigs go (though the lack of internet for the girl with nothing to do but sit at a desk and wait for a phone to ring is extremely aggravating). There are occasional harmless remarks from executives who don’t realize that the age of workplace paternalism is over, and there was that one woman who got really angry in a meeting and made a comment about how she wanted to kill people and had fortunately just gotten her gun license the day before, but all in all the daily experience isn’t too bad, just excruciatingly boring.

What I can’t get over, though, is that in exchange for a whopping twelve dollars an hour I am facilitating the sale of a product that, when used as directed, causes death. Slow, agonizing, expensive death. But I need income, and this is what was available to me, and so here I am – making it work.

Not So Bad After All

I know there aren't a lot of you reading, so it's unlikely anyone wonders where I've gone when I don't post - I still feel remiss in neglecting my little web-home. I've been temping, I've been sick, I've been writing a musical and learning to garden. I'm still nursing a nasty cold, and the headache is keeping my brain from having much of interest to say. But it does want to say this:

I have some really, really awesome friends, and that is pretty much the best thing in the whole world. Friends and family. As much as I sometimes (often) hate people categorically, there are a whole lot of people that I love individually. And so, life is good.

Spring has truly sprung.

Happy April Fool's Day!

I gave up trying to play practical jokes before I was ten, because my big brother was always a million times better than me and it just didn't seem worth the effort. Fittingly, that same brother's birthday happens to be the first of April. Happy Birthday, big bro!

Instead of failing at pranking people, I spent today enjoying the extraordinarily (for NJ in early April) gorgeous weather. I drove the long way out into farm country and walked in a few different parks and gardens, just enjoying the fresh air and the warm sunshine. The blooming flowers didn't hurt, either.

I sometimes forget during the winter just how much of an outdoor person I am, but one of my favorite things in all of life is feeling the air and the sun on my skin. (Through some kind of SPF-ified lotion, of course, since I go from ghost to lobster in approximately twelve minutes.) Days like today, with its perfect weather, make it crystal clear to me why our religions and myths so frequently include rising-from-the-dead allegories for the return of spring.

Instead of attempting to describe just how glorious today was, I'm just going to show off some of my photos. I'm pretty pleased with how they turned out - I think they do a decent job of capturing the day's beauty. Maybe someday I'll even upgrade from my point-and-shoot....

So now I'm... a gardener?

When I was living in *that place* where I couldn't breathe the air, a friend brilliantly pointed out that perhaps some living green in my apartment would be a good idea. It certainly couldn't hurt. I, of course, have a history of killing plants. (And pet fish, but that's another story for another day and no I never did it on purpose and yes I still feel bad about it, thanks for reminding me.) In an attempt to change my track record, I acquired a couple of cute, extremely low maintenance, cacti. (Can we call them cactuses? "Cacti" just feels silly to me.)

By the time I came back to NJ I had kept my little cactuses alive for more than two whole months! They even survived the move! (They're hardy, those little buggers, and go for $10 or less at the grocery store around the holidays. Just sayin.)

So I was sitting around with nothing much to do but try to get healthy and watch my plants grow (or not grow - I don't think they've done anything other than not die so far), and I got to thinking about what life might be like once I get past the recovery phase and the preparation-for-what's-next phase, and I decided I'd like it to include more plants.

Of course I've had all kinds of fantasies about growing and canning my own tomatoes and harvesting my own strawberries grown in one of those funny terra cotta pots. But for the sake of starting off a little more pragmatically, I bought three packets of seeds, three teeny plastic pots, and three small plastic trays to catch the water that runs out the holes in the bottoms.

I planted basil, rosemary, and thyme. (Yes, like the song - sort of.)

I totally haven't killed them yet! They're growing! Soon I'll have to move them to bigger pots (since I put an entire packet of seeds into each 2" diameter pot, which is patently absurd)! I'M GROWING PLANTS AND THEY'RE NOT DYING!

I'm a little bit excited.