Deviant Dispatches

Today, rather than performing an analysis of my recent obsession, Mumford and Sons , I'm directing you to some other people's reviews . They differ quite a bit , and one is even downright scathing (I don't see how anyone could hate them so much). Here, have a couple of music videos , too. Then, decide for yourself what you think of them. I've got a novel to write. (Or maybe I'll go back to bed. But probably I'll write.)

This sunset is from our journey to the North this weekend - rather, our trip Sunday night and Monday. As Spousal Unit pointed out, it was nice that we could decide on Saturday to visit my family and then just go, rather than saving money for months and taking a week and a half off of work and driving for two days. I'll be enjoying that for a while. And tomorrow (if you're lucky) I'll tell you about our amazing detour to Minnesota.

Yesterday at work, I was reminded of a scene from the movie Fern Gully. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it to everyone, even though it's a kid's cartoon. It's about a rainforest full of fairies and other creatures that are way too adorable to be real, fighting for survival against evil humanity's drive to have more stuff. Robin Williams plays an excellent roll in the movie as Batty, who is (surprise) a bat, recently escaped from a lab where he was experimented on repeatedly. His rap is one of the most incredible things I've ever heard, and I still listen to the full version on a regular basis. Makes me feel better when I'm having a bad day - at least I haven't been electrified and dipped in paint and all that. Another great character in the movie is Hexxus, who was locked away by weird fairy magic in a weird tree in the rainforest. He's the embodiment of pollution, and when he's accidentally freed, he starts getting his sli

I love the New York Times's various book lists. They're a great place to find new reading material and to discover things you never even heard about. The lists composed by the common man are great, too, even if I don't agree with their placement all the time. The most recent of these is the Top 100 Sci Fi/Fantasy Books list, voted into order by fans. As you can imagine, I totally eat up things like this. They put too many books in my massive to-be-read pile, and this one is no exception. My first interest on the list is number 5, A Song of Ice and Fire series by George R. R. Martin. Everyone's been talking about it, but I'm not exhausted of hearing about it yet. With all the semi-entertaining scifi I've been reading lately - good plot but no characters, or bad plot but great world building - I need something well-rounded. This could be it, with warring families, supernatural beings, an exiled princess, and a winter longer than anyone could ever want (eve

I'm very excited to get my first paycheck from this job, for several reasons. One is being able to pay bills next month. Along with that come all the other ways in which I should be responsible, like getting new glasses for myself and Spousal Unit, car repairs, saving for an apartment, all that good adult stuff we should be doing. But there's another reason I'm excited. I can finally take a class again. Yes, I want to go back to school eventually, but I'm not talking about those kinds of classes. I'm talking about creative, fun classes, the ones in which I have a hobby-esque interest. I want to learn about these things, and the best way to do that is through an instructor. For example, belly dancing. My original belly dance lessons were through Ameena Ahava in my home town. I only took lessons for two months before heading to New Mexico, and I'd love to do more. Plus, I miss the cameraderie of a bunch of ladies shakin' their groove thing and

Dear Green Bay Packers , Thank you for the best wedding present anyone could ever get: your incredible Super Bowl win . On December 26 last year, you started winning and didn't stop until you reached the ultimate goal: the Lombardi trophy. Spousal Unit and I got married on January 8, in the midst of your winning streak and the day before playoffs began. Now that's a great way to start a honeymoon. But we didn't have a chance to watch hardly any of your games with other Packer backers. Up until this May, we were living in New Mexico, where there certainly are Packer fans (we saw your leather jackets and license plates displayed). But they're not terribly prevalent, and we missed watching with our families and friends at home, who are also green and gold at heart. And so I propose the following. I'm guessing that, because you got us a wedding present, you plan to give us an anniversary present. I'm especially hopeful because we are back in the la

This is where I go every week to take my sunset pictures: a small dock that Spousal Unit always rocks like crazy to make me think I'll fall off. (He's not really trying to kill me. Promise.) And here are last week's sunsets.

Friday night, I had the worst Alice in Wonderland dream ever. It went something like this. About five years ago, something terrible happened in the land. A famine, a flood, an attack from a neighboring state - whatever it was, it was devastating on a large scale. One of the people affected took charge and led all the surviors away from the worst of it all, and he built a huge fortress, all black on the outside. It was like a castle - one of the real ones, with walls seven feet thick and a door twenty feet tall. It reminded me of that book The Looking Glass Wars , which was a terrible twist on Alice in Wonderland and you should never waste your time reading it. Anywho. So in the dream, I had a five-year-old daughter and was knocked up with another kid (a boy), who was going to be born soon. I looked like I'd eaten a lot, not like I was pregnant. There were all these techno-medieval outfits (talk about genre crossing - like this but with more silvery metal). We had gone to li

*If you'd like any preconceived notions you have of me to stay in place, then here's a fair warning: don't read this post. Go here instead, where things make more sense.* Sometimes I wonder if it’s not other people; it’s me. Starting a new job always makes me self-conscious – more so when it's in such a prim and proper place as the tux industry. I worry about whether I've said the right thing, especially in a job where certain words and phrases are banned. I'm not even allowed to say "Can I help you?" - a phrase that's been drilled into me for ten years. I'm always on my toes to behave so damn properly, and most who know me know I don't care what strangers think of me. I am more than willing to help people and more than willing to do whatever I can for them, but I want to feel like myself when I do it, and this job strips me of personality. I feel like a shell at work and always find myself saying the wrong thing - customers don&

They are no less beautiful.

On August 14 at noon, all student leases expire in Madison. They don't start again until August 15 at noon. This means lots and lots of students pack up their cars and moving trucks with whatever they can squeeze in, then go stay at a friend's house, or get a motel, or camp on the lawn of their new place. You'd think, considering how many are affected by this, there would be a better system in place. Moving is stressful enough anyway - students don't need to add a night of homelessness to their sorrows. But in the meantime, while the homeless anxiously await 12 p.m. on 8/15... others come to prey on the abandoned corpses of their former lives. We call this Hippie Christmas, or curb shopping. All the items students couldn't shove in their cars are left out on the curb for anyone who can squeeze them in their vehicle. You can find almost anything you're looking for at Hippie Christmas: laundry detergent, unopened food, wrapping paper, and (my favorite for

On Sunday night, everything seemed to be going well. I was getting ready for bed, my sister and her boyfriend were nestled all snug in their air matress, and Spousal Unit was watching something explody with Joe and Kaelin. I said goodnight to all and went to bed, closing the door behind me. It was more difficult to close than usual, but I thought little of it and slept like a milk-drugged kitten. The fact that I closed the door is very important. It does not close easily - the shape of the door and frame have changed enough with time that they are no longer perfect matches for each other, and weather affects them as well. (This makes dramatic exits and entrances difficult, because if you slam it, it just bounces back open again.) Usually, Spousal Unit and I just leave the door closed enough for privacy. Not on Sunday night. Because of all the yelling and explosions in the other room, I took care to close the door. Monday was my first full day of work, and I wanted a decent

What an amazing weekend. This was one of those weekends that makes you wish, really wish, it was always the weekend. That working was not necessary for paying the bills. That you had no other responsibilities in life and could just enjoy the fun stuff all the time. If that was the case, we'd have nothing to compare it to and weekends wouldn't be so cool. But this weekend still makes me wish it would just go on and on. Friday: I finished my 18-page application for an awesome job that I really want. I polished up the last bits of my essay, relinquished my control, and passed it on to higher authorities. I won't find out about it for at least another week, I think. Later in the day, we were restless and eager to explore, so the four of us went in search of shoes or gel inserts for my new job at the tux shop, where I'll be standing on tile floors eight hours a day. Ugh. Gel inserts were found, along with an awesome shirt, a $5 pair of IZ Byer pants that fit

Today is the day I finish my essay. I'm feeling oddly excited about this - it reminds me of when I finished my senior sem paper in college. At that point, I said YES! I can finally write a great paper. And then school was done. But I'm recapturing the happy part of that. Fun things you could do: enjoy some of the best Muppet segments ever . Learn how to reclaim your confidence (I'm sure this works for guys, too). Read this post about something you can do to bananas ... which is not at all perverted. Be sure to read some of the comments, too. See some geeky marriage proposals (the Harry Potter one is very clever, but I still favor the Picard one!) This New York Times article is about the new zombies in literature, an invaluable resource if you're writing about the elusive creatures. Dive into this poem by poet laureate Philip Levine . I love the darkness and imagery in this one - he's a very provocative writer. And finally, enjoy this

One warm July evening, Kaelin found a toad. He was soft and squishy and not very slimy, and he asked Kaelin to show him her grassless home. She was happy as a baby monkey riding on a pig . (That means she was very happy, indeed.) Toad explained many great mysteries of toad-life to Kaelin in their time together. He explained why toads are so bumpy, who gifted them with powerful, jumpy legs, and why they croak best near water, early in the morning. Kaelin was amazed and excited to be so trusted with the intricacies of toad culture. She vowed that Toad would always be her bestest friend forever and for always. She even offered him a nice little place under the china hutch, where he could be happy and squishy every day. Kaelin rubbed his soft little belly and held her friend close. Toad was happy. Then, tragedy struck, in the form of Spousal Unit. He offered Toad his skills with certain implements of destruction, so that he could escape this cruel world if he so desired

Remember me mentioning, far away and long ago, the novel I'm working on ? Yes. Well. That was back in May, and I've only edited another 15 pages or so since then. Shame on me. But recently, I've really been feeling the drive to get a move on with this thing. I know my book forwards and backwards, I know the characters like they're family (or like they're close, personal enemies), and I know what I need to do to finish it. So I decided the best way to actually get it done is to make a list. Lists are my favorite way of staying organized. Then (so long as the paper doesn't get lost) you won't forget everything that needs doing, and you can revel in the cathartic experience of crossing items off as you finish them. You add things as they come to mind, and eventually the paper's filled up with lots of things you have and haven't done. Then you transfer everything that's left to a new piece of paper and start over. Maybe no one else does

...And there goes last night's sun. The last shot shows sun reflecting off a house across the lake - be sure to find the moon in that one!

The following was a writing sample I wrote as part of the application process for a job. As I didn't get said job, I am now posting it for your amusement. Here's what spewed out of my brain in the allotted hour. Enjoy - I'm going to create another writing sample for another job. "Monkeys" a Linguistic Menagerie Allison Finseth’s highly anticipated autobiography, Dances With Monkeys , is a bizarre exploration of ordinary life. Vivid descriptions of her short life thus far ensconce the reader in a delightful little world. Her brief and varied existence is concisely described in occasionally hyperbolic – but always beautifully clear – language. Her experiences as a child are rich and colorful, and she manages to expound upon tiny experiences that have made her life all the more incredible. Small elements from her childhood – from the pig stone in her backyard to the flaming shirt incident – remain fresh in her memory and come alive on each page. “Real life,

About a week ago, I mentioned going to the library and picking up some awesome stuff. One of the books I picked up was about card making, one of my fun, relaxing-type hobbies. It has some good ideas in it - things that I could brainstorm, if I had the time for them, but why do that when someone else has already done the work? Seeing those cool ideas made me want to create cards again. (That was the whole reason I brought the book home.) So, earlier this week, I picked an idea and went with it. I decided to use ribbon on a card somehow. I have quite the stash of scraps and paper-craft tools, so everything I need is right at my fingertips. For starters, I cut a piece of cardstock in half the short way and fold it in half, creating a 4"x5.5" base to work with. Why? Because that's the size of the envelopes I have, and that's where I draw the line. Let someone else worry about making the envelopes, and I'll make the pretties to go inside. One item a friend got me that

Submitted for your approval: the summer has surpassed its zenith. It is August. In a month and a half, we will enter a glorious new season - fall. I am stoked. Summer has always been my least favorite season. It's too hot to be enjoyable, most days. I'm not fond of immersing myself in water, which is the best way of staying cool in the heat. The sun shines down with cruel tongues of flame blazing, hoping to redden the skin of unsuspecting blondes everywhere (and it always finds me). I'm glad it's finally August. I enjoy nice, warm weather, when one can spend an afternoon lazing on a porch or going for a run. I love all the shades of green, and the beautiful flowers. But in these months, a 70-degree day is a rare thing, and anything hotter is useless to me. I'd rather have September and October, because today's high is 85, and that's just not acceptable. After living in New Mexico the last couple of years, I'm eager to see a real change of seasons. I wa

It's only Wednesday morning and I'm already exhausted. I have no good reason to be. My two workdays so far have only been three hours long each. That's how today will be, too. I chalk it all up to not having gone anywhere or learned anything on a daily basis for the last two months. To suddenly jump back into it is overwhelming and a bit terrifying. Another part of that is the number of interviews I have this week. Yesterday was my first, and I still have three to go. Plus the two I had last week. Six interviews and two (short) days of work in one week. I guess that explains my sleepiness pretty well. These interviews are stressful for a couple of reasons. 1.) I don't know where they are, being new to this city, so I have to leave early just in case I get lost. I almost did yesterday heading to a tux shop interview. 2.) I always get nervous when I have to perform. Yes, everyone has to deal with that, but it's still a physically exhausting thing. 3.) I don't real