I create best in public. For good or bad, that’s how I roll; it’s never worked as well for me to write a whole story and present it for the first time as a finished thing. I loose my sense of urgency, the need to produce regularly or face public failure and, yes, the chance to enjoy the feedback from the people who liked it (or didn’t). That’s how I work, that’s what I need.
Kate and I are a lot alike in many ways, and while I try not to assign my own interpretation to her actions (I was warned early and often not to), I’d suspect that she’s wired somewhat the same way when it comes to creative efforts.
So, I’d like to point out a project she just started: one picture, posted, every day, for a year. To be sure, she’s actually taking a lot more pictures than one per day, but the end result is the best of the daily bunch, and frankly I think they’re pretty good. I think you should check it out; I certainly think a couple comments would be welcomed.
She lasted almost four days without taking a picture of Jake.
In the meantime, I’ve got a project to work on, and I need to get to it. Cheers.
Saw, for the first time in my life, the person I voted to become President actually become president, capping what was for me an utterly unprecedented level of activity and involvement in the campaign process. I cried like a little girl.
Celebrated my first wedding anniversary.
Actually enjoyed a Ren faire for the first time, thanks to seeing it through the eyes of my wife and my daughter, rather than my own.
Killed a Balrog, and bought a lifetime subscription to a computer game.
Painted the house, and built a pretty cool shelf unit out of an old kitchen table.
Started and maintained a regular face-to-face gaming schedule. (Biweekly, on Wednesdays, one full year as of January 14th!)
Made some new friends out of old acquaintances.
Finished publisher-requested revisions on Hidden Things; this time adding over 75 pages to the manuscript.
Figured out, for the eighth time or so, what I liked about blogging, and why I wanted to keep doing it.
Home’s a funny thing for me. My home’s in Denver, Colorado, thanks very much. It’s also in the middle of South Dakota, and maybe a little bit in Sioux Falls.
And it’s in New York. God, but I love this place.
Kate and I started dating awhile back, and for two years we did the long distance thing. Phone calls. Online MMO play-dates. And a trip back and forth from Denver to NYC (or vice versa) every three weeks or so. Frontier airlines declared bankruptcy the same weekend we got married. No joke.
Thing is, I haven’t been back since the wedding. 20 months (not counting 48 hours last holiday season, because I don’t).
This year, we’re taking more time. Family Christmas at the in-laws. A day or two in the city to see friends I haven’t seen in almost two years. In The City, which thrills me; GOD I miss that town. I had no idea how much until I emerged from the terminal last night and took a deep breath.
And coughed in the taxi fumes, but whatever. Shut up. *happy dance*
I fell in love with New York as I fell in love with Kate, is what I’m saying (which is good, as she will always and forever be a New York Girl). It, too, is my home, if it will have me.
So as the end-of-year looms, I find I have a few gifts still to buy, mostly for for people that annoy me, or due to situations that annoy me, which is why I’ve put the shopping off for this long in the first place.
Just because it’s the season of giving, I thought I’d share my plans for some of the more interesting challenges on my santa list.
The Kid you weren’t going to Get Anything For, except their Parents got your Kid Something, so Now You Have To
These:
At least half and hour of entertainment. For you, that is. Who knows if the kid will like it, and really, who cares? My four year old wouldn’t fall for this, so if he’s going to dig in the frozen earth with his sausage-fingers, is it really your fault if his slobbering greed ends up on a flipcam and, thence, the internet? These things happen.
The coworker who got you a fancy card and some cheap-ass chocolate crap that’ll make you fat or make you sick
You have a couple options here. The goal is long-term discomfort. Nose hair clippers.
This isn’t bad. With this gift, you pretty much insure a six-month period of self-conscious nostril rubbing. If you’re lucky, it’ll turn into a nervous tic. If you have the acting chops for it, though, I recommend… Are they not ADORABLE?!
The key elements here are twofold. First, you have to pull off an earnest, smiling, heartfelt delivery of the gift. You have to really sell the idea that you put a lot of thought into this thing, and that you really think they reflect the coworker’s wacky ‘personality’. Second, you have to make sure it’s not just one doll. Shoot for a half dozen or so.
In combination, this will ensure that your target will feel compelled to display the things in their work area, and that the quantity will imbue them with a kind of weight. Momentum. What I’m saying is that with so many troll dolls on his desk, it’s only natural that people will give him more. It will become a thing. His thing. Whether he wills it or no.
Victory.
The family member you drew for “secret” Santa who has no wishlist, only mentioned three things she wants (one of which her husband already picked up, cuz he doesn’t know what to fucking buy for her either), and who lives halfway across the country
Might I suggest a gift card for a chain of stores that boasts few or no outlets in their geographic area? You might imagine you want one with no online store as well, but that’s thinking small: it’s far more appropriate to select based on how painful their shopping interface is. For instance, a c-note’s worth of purchasing power at fotoconnection.com should inflict the kind of blood pressure spike you’re looking for this holiday season.
Seriously?
No, not really, but if you’re really stuck for a gift, might I suggesting giving someone a goat? Or maybe a bunch of chicks. Or a duck. It’ll make you feel good — better than you do thinking of all these jerks who make your last-minute shopping difficult. Baa. Humbug.
(Plus, they can’t bitch about it without sounding like a complete jackass. Bonus.)
Denied bowling supremacy tonight, but still a great finish on a great season with fellow Crazy Bowling Monkeys @cyface and @DaphneUn. in reply to cyface#
Class last night, weird/good meeting today, and an interview this afternoon. All my talky words for the week are used up. #
Teaching classes where the students are creating their own stuff has taught me the reality of teach-pride. Amazing. #
RT @rdonoghue When someone talks about things technology can do, I remind myself webforms still don't fill in my state & city by zip code in reply to rdonoghue#
RT @RemiT: TV Show: Nested, color-coded narratives explode into cartoon chaos. This is a must-watch. http://bit.ly/746TVZ#
… and my background: with the exception of Piranha Part Two: The Spawning, I’ve seen all of James Cameron’s movies at least three times. Yeah, even Titanic (though the third time was against my will). Understand that simple fact about me first: I’m pretty much the guy’s target audience.
Kate and I went to see Avatar last night. As I told some folks afterwards, it’s a thoroughly enjoyable, fun movie, and I didn’t remotely mind the nearly three hour length, even wearing the Real-3D glasses. (In fact, there was no point in there where I so much as shifted in my seat and thought “Okay, you could have edited this bit out, Jim.” I enjoyed it all, even the Diaspora-esque ship the protag comes to Pandora in.
Those of you who know me know that I do not consider “in 3-D” a selling point for a movie: I’ve never once walked out of a show thinking “man, if only that had been 3-D, they might have had something.” However, thanks to an observation from Chuck, we chose to go to to the 3-D version, and I’m very very glad we did. Like Coraline, this movie uses 3-D intelligently.
Even those of you who don’t know me might suspect I enjoy a good story. Much has been said about the simple, damned familiar story of Avatar — I’ll admit that I’ve repeated the Dances with Smurfs joke more than once — but the movie reminded me that old, simple stories are a lot like old, simple words: they resonate.
Is it a great movie? I don’t know. It’s certainly good. There are no major plot holes I could see. The technology is brilliant and used well, and the setting itself is gorgeous. Kate and I talked about the different parts we liked for a solid half hour after we left.
And here’s what I realized this morning when I woke up — the thing that made me write this post: I want to go see it again. In the theatre. In the 3-D. I will, in fact, be a little sad if I don’t manage it. Take that for what it’s worth.
I was going to make a nice little list of all the various kinds of people who might like this movie, and suggest they see it, but here’s the bottom line: If you like movies, even a little, I think you should see it.
Like it or hate it, I think you should see it.
In the theatre.
Probably even in 3-D.
Man, those are some words I never thought I’d say again, after Coraline. Way to go, Cameron.
