You'd have managed better if you had it planned...

But I do have it planned Judas! Cyrano Superstar - Nov 1st, 2 PM, at the Festival Theatre. We just have to settle on a hotel.

Next year Gilby and I will have to choose a Birthday Frolick in Montreal or Toronto, to cut down on costs--Stratford will set me back a wee bit of my savings (though the Sugar Daddy is paying for hotel costs, which shall defray my train or plane ticket.) (Not to be mistaken for the Regular Daddy who is paying for my trip out to Vancouver in 2 weeks.)

But it shall be worth it! Looking at next year's Stratford plays, none of them excite me like this year. I don't even need Earnest or Cyrano to be amaaazing (though the reviews are good)... I just want to see them live for once in my life. I never see plays, just read them.

Cyyyranoooo
Suuuperstaaaar!

And we'll be seeing West Side Story too... well I had to let Gilby choose ONE of the plays. (But really he should see Cyrano, cause it was Ayn Rand's fave play--for reasons I totally understand. Total Independent Against All Odds F**k You World Hero, just as she loved.) The Maria production is supposed to be great. But really, how can any show be bad when it has a dance off?? It's not the musical I'm most familiar with, but I expect a beautiful performance of Maria. (Not the how-do-you-solve-a-problem-like, but "Say it loud and there's muuuusic plaaaying! Say it soft and it's almost like praying" Maria. Gorgeous.)


Did you know it's, like, a 9 hour bus ride to Toronto (and then another hour or two in the Gilbymobile to Stratford.) As Cyrano would say: "NO thank-you!" The train is 4-5 hours, and that's probably what I'll choose--it's about half the price of a plane trip. But we'll see...

Cyyyyranooooo
Suuuuperstaaaaar!

Guess I'd better go to bed now.

...
...
...

Cyyyyyyyyraaaaanooooooooo
Suuuuuuuuperstaaaaaaaaaaar!

Twitter

I have a couple friends on Twitter, but unless you're an entire group, I don't really find it useful for connecting with actual people I know. But it's great for stalking celebrities. And now I follow one Twitter that is just humour: Shit My Dad Says.

shitmydadsays(watching the Little League World Series) "These kids are all fat. I remember when you were in little league.... You were fat."

shitmydadsays"Your mother rented this film, What Happens In Vegas. I thought it was going to be non-fiction, but it's fiction, and it's about some idiot.

shitmydadsays"The dog don't like you planting stuff there. It's his backyard. If you're the only one who shits in something, you own it. Remember that."

I'll have to see if "Overheard at McGill" has a twitter.

book questions

Lifted from a writing blog I read. My answers in italics.

Natasha Fondren is having a meme to generate a list of great books, and I thought I’d play along. Here are the questions:

•What book(s) made you a better writer?

Connie Willis. I learned a lot about plotting and foreshadowing from her; how to take a theme and weave it throughout a book, so that it supports your story.

•What book(s) made you cry?

Not a big cryer, so there aren't many. There was a pre-teen book, can't remember the title, when I was young--the chapter where her dog has to be put down. And as an adult, Connie Willis' Doomsday Book. And I was exceptionally moved by A Fine Balance.

•What book(s) made you laugh until you were in tears?

I'm more likely to laugh-to-tears when interacting with humans, or watching movies, rather than books. But basically all my fave humour authors write passages so funny that I want to share them with people: Wodehouse, Heyer, Willis, Damon Runyon, Louise Rennison, Jilly Cooper.

•What book(s) made you feel like you could conquer the world?

Joseph Campbell's writing.

•What book(s) have you read three times or more?

Not a big re-reader. Probably some Wodehouse short stories. Cyrano de Bergerac. A Christmas Carol. Some Heyers. If I reread a book once, that's a big deal. 3 times or more is pushing it. I have over 600 unread books yo!

•What book(s) kept you up all night reading?

Bridget Jones Diary (or the sequel, I can't remember.) Louise Rennison. And I recall ignoring homework for Jilly Cooper, and for The Poisonwood Bible, so that must count!

•What book(s) do you want to read again?

Not a lot, cause I have over 600 unread books. I'll always reread my old friends, the faves, but no specific plans.

The Story of Me: In Aunts part 3

Alright, the third aunt--the youngest child--is by far the most interesting, and no one in the family would deny it. The best family stories usually center around her, but I can't remember a lot of the details anymore so I'm afraid I can't do her justice. (Above pic: At the bottom in tinted glasses.)

I'll call her Nature, short for Child of Nature. I don't think I have Three Precise Things to say about Nature, but what's not to love about An Eccentric Relative? While I take after my mother quite a bit, my dad has always insisted I remind him of this sister. She's the imaginative one, the dreamer, and the talker. She's one of those relatives you can see after years of absence, and you'll be having a Deep and Interesting conversation within minutes--no small talk.

Nature was the hippie in the family. I don't mean a peace-and-love sort of hippie, or anything trendy; but someone who wants to have a ton of kids, take them out into the bush, and let them run wild. She's also Christian, so she does match the family in that way--except, of course, she was the one who got hooked into Scientology and had to escape from a ship. How many people have Cult Escape stories?

She married a man who seemed to want the same nature-lovin' wild-child lifestyle as she, so they had four children and moved out to the woods. And I mean woods. They lived in a cabin in Bella Coola, which is so remote that even the Hulk ran off there to hide! She would write these letters to her mother on yellow lined paper, with a pencil, and illustrated, full of her adventures; and the letters would get passed around the family.

Unfortunately Le Husband didn't turn out to be such a nature boy after all, so they moved back to the city to divorce, and there she had to stay. I think she sort of feels like she had the dream, she was living the life she wanted, but with the wrong man, so the dream only lasted a few years. But I suppose that's better than what most people achieve.

And she's the sort of person who can drop Jesus into the conversation without self-consciousness. I don't think she's been churched for many a decade, but you sort of imagine her and Jesus wearing matching BFF necklaces.

I have one final memory to share. One of the few times I returned to Edmonton was for my great-grandmother's funeral. I think she was in her 90s when she died, and a Great Dame, so the funeral wasn't too sad, it was a bit of a family reunion.

As usual I'm hazy on the details because of my Edmontonian Detachment, but not long before the funeral it had come out that one of our relatives-by-marriage had molested some children in the family. He was from an older generation, so I get the feeling everyone treated it in a sort of Let's Not Talk About This Manner--or at least, his generation did. I'm sure some younger family members (such as the parent/s of the children) ignored him, or maybe even confronted him, I don't know. But I do remember that Aunt Nature refused to go to the funeral because Molester Guy was going to be there. And I had much respect for that. It shows you another side of Aunt Nature, and a strong family resemblance to her older sister Lipstick. :-)

The Story of Me: In Aunts part 2

The Middle Child

I'm sorry to say I have less stories about the eldest of my dad's younger sisters (the one in the lower right side of the above pic). She had long ago moved to Calgary, so even the short years I spent in Edmonton I didn't see her much. So let's call her Calgary. She was married to Some Guy, I know nothing about him, or even when they divorced. They had no children. When I was around 10 (?) she started dating a Wealthy Older Man and they've been together, unmarried, since. They didn't have kids either, just little dogs.

I suspect I also know less about Calgary because my father didn't know her as well, and maybe because she's the most like my father. Friendly but sort of reserved or private. (And notice how they both got the hell out of Edmonton at an early age?)

If Aunt Calgary is the Patron Saint of something, I wouldn't be privileged enough to know what that is. But let me try to say 3 Things About Her anyway.

1. When I was about 11 or so, and visiting back in Edmonton, I felt like I was at an awkward in-between stage. My twin cousins were old enough to be Interesting to Grown Ups. And my little cousin who was also visiting was Still Little & Cute (though she was, interestingly, the only witness to The Famous Grandma Contre-temps. I'm sure she doesn't remember.) But one day Aunt Calgary was visiting, and I felt like she was the only one who took an interest in me. So for many years I called her My Favourite Aunt.

And she was just generally pretty and warm and interested in children, sort of like my step-mother. When you're an 11 year old girl you just love a Pretty & Interested-in-you Woman. I would imagine she's pretty universally liked amongst my Edmontonian cousins.

2. When in town for my grandmother's wedding I had tea one day with Aunt Calgary. And all I can remember from it was my shock when she expressed some sort of belief that the very high numbers of deaths in foreign (African) countries was just nature's way of culling the species, so what can we do? If I had been old enough to be Marxist, I suppose I would have seen her married-into-wealth as the source of this Malthusian Shpleckiness. I'm sure I tried to talk her out of it, though I don't know what I said.

*Political Aside: I mean, yes, you can see Mother Nature's hand in any death on this planet, but if you're going to use this as a reason for holding a Well-What-Can-We-Do? attitude, then I have to be Out. If it's true what Dando said, that "Natural factors cause crop failures, but humans cause famines" then there's certainly room for human guilt. Not to mention it's not for us to decide Evolution (Natural Selection) is at Work and there's nothing we can do--westerners are the *fittest* or whatever. Evolution happens over millions of years, and there's no saying what's *fit* since we can't predict future changes in our environment. We should instead concentrate on what we think is ethical, or just.

Anyway, I'm not trying to charge my aunt with callousness--it's only a vaguely recalled conversation, and possibly an outgrown opinion. I'm just saying... the memory stayed with me.

3. Several year ago she got a pair of antique earrings framed--one for me, one for one of my cousins--along with a photo of the relative of ours' who owned it (I can never remember who--what generation.) It's totally beautiful, and the only heirloom I own that goes back more than a couple generations. Probably my only regret at not having kids is that I have no one to pass it on to, so I intend to pass it back to one of my cousins' daughters when I'm Oldy.

The Story of Me: In Aunts

I was born in Edmonton, but I wasn't there long. We moved to Winnipeg, moved back to Ed a couple years, and then we were gone for good.

Both my parents were born in Edmonton, so that's where the bulk of my genetic-relatives live, though I rarely see them. Having moved away from relatives at such a young age, I don't have a very strong sense of extended family. I saw my step-mother's family more often growing up (grade 6 onward), but they're French so the language difference always created a little bit of a barrier. They all live in the Townships, so without a car I don't see them often either.

I understand why some people create their own communities around them--I'm certainly closer to my friends than to my extended family. But... with all that said... my genetic families are pretty weird people, and I can't deny being related to them since I've inherited the weirdness. (Understand that weird is a compliment in my books.)

My dad has three sisters and they've all led interesting lives. I'm not very good at the details, but they go something like this...

Eldest Child

I'll call her Lipstick, since she once wrote PIG in lipstick across my dad's stuffed dog. (Every time my dad tells this story she just giggles unapologetically.) She had a teen pregnancy (who was adoped out, but it's happy endings all around because Lipstick and her biological daughter are now friends) and then she had a boy and twin daughters. There's a lot of sad history in here which I won't relate, but my aunt's a survivor and ...plucky.

Here is my deceased grandfather, my still-kicking-it-old-school
grandmother, and their children. The one in the middle,
looking so Sweet and Petite is Aunt Lipstick.
Don't let appearances fool you. She's very street.

I can't speak for what sort of mother she was, but all the same time she's a sort of Patron Saint of Children. I've never heard her speak of her children without FIERCE PROTECTIVE love. Probably the sort of love that drives you up the wall, but can't possibly leave you in doubt to its genuineness. A complete mother bear. I have 3 defining memories of her (and no, Pablo, they don't involve a spoon):

1. When I was 11 I had a sort of contre-temps with my grandmother (my dad's mother.) I didn't speak to her for a year after, and though my mother supported me through it, I never felt like my dad was on my side about it. (To this day I can't figure out where his head was during this... my father's a bit of a sphinx sometimes.) When I was about 14 I was in Edmonton for my grandmother's wedding, and stayed with Aunt Lipstick, and that's when I found out that she'd heard of this whole thing with my grandmother. And had been furious, because apparently the way my grandmother spoke to me, she'd done to her daughters as well. And Most Excellent Aunt Lipstick called her mother up and gave her a talking to.

Can I describe how wonderful this made me feel? To find out that someone from my dad's side of the family had understood and stood up for me? I probably didn't fully forgive my grandmother until I found this out. God bless my Aunt Lipstick--the Patron Saint of Children came through for me.

2. The father of Lipstick's children was a womanizing sort of charmer, who had an affair and left Lipstick for the Affairee. They lived together for years until he got Lou Gherig's (I think) and she dumped him. And guess who helped to care for him? Yes, my aunt. But when he was incapacitated, sitting in that wheelchair and unable to escape her wrath, she finally let him have it. Not even for shit he'd done for her (if I remember this story right) but for shit that had affected her children. That's the Patron Saint again. I was very proud when I heard this story.

3. The last time I saw Aunt Lipstick she was visiting my parents out here in Quebec, and the only conversation I can remember having with her was about her grandchildren. The grandkids have gone through their own share of Parental Troubles, and Aunt Lipstick stands up for them too. The world has got to be a better place because women like this are in it.

So while I'm not very attentive to my Edmonton Family, I'll always love them, in my own Distant Way.

Revenge of the midge!

My midges had disappeared for a couple days, but now they are back! I'm working in the kitchen, and their little corpses keep falling on the computer (as they dash themselves against the light.)

Nombly hard at work, editing my book

Of course, before my love affair with K'Naan, there was (and will always be) Wyclef

"What do you mean I end up in jail?! Motherf**ker!"

When I met Gilby he used to talk about His Bestest Friend In the Whole World, Alfonse. Alfonse has lived in the US since I've known him (he's a brainy scientist, now working on turning algae into fuel), now in San Diego, married to a Pretty Intelligent Witty Blonde (what shall I call her? Mrs Alfonse?) who used to write a great blog about not dieting for one year.

Mrs Alfonse took in some plays at Stratford this summer and she brought me back 2 gifts: Oscar Wilde finger puppet, and a mini booklet of Oscar quotes. Can you believe that? How classy is this dame!

Here is Finger Oscar becoming familiar with his life story.
I wonder if I should stop him before he gets to the last
few chapters.

Here is poses next to himself. I love that they made
his head dipping to one side, just like in the photos.
He's a dreamer, our Oscar.

Here's some safer reading material,
and more his size too.

And here he is with a pen up his bum
(no somdomite jokes please).
Instead of dying lonely and ruined in Paris,
he sits here, immortal, inspiring my writing.

Now... I think we should work our way through the quote book.

Women are sphinxs without secrets.

This is me still being Madly In Love

I can't get over my huge crush on K'Naan's music. K'Naan I looooooooooove you!!!!!!!!

Here's another song--this one about what it's like waiting for a desperately needed money transfer from someone who's helping you out; and then turns to how he can now transfer money back to his grandmother; and it ends with "shout outs" to people who financially helped him out in hard times.

No wonder when you look at the comments people leave for K'Naan on youtube, they're all about how he's saving rap music from a surplus of thug culture.

...And if you think it isn't fun to sing "you can pick it up toDAY it's fifteenminutesawAY" while trotting home from work, well, then you iz foolin' yourself.

Metrosexual bug

The midges are disappearing--there's way less of them hanging in the kitchen tonight. But my computer was just assaulted by an earwig, and now some other 6 legged dude is sitting on the top corner of my screen cleaning his (or her) antennae.

Slowly... like a cat. He slowwwwly runs his hands along an antennae, then quickly rubs his palms together, and does it again. The antennaes... they must be cleans!! All the while perched on his other 4 legs.

Now it looks like he's tapping his foot to the John Mellencamp playing.

Now he's feeling out the air with his super cleans antennae.

library-ific

Jut noticed the other day that my library purchased the complete Sandman collection (Neil Gaiman.) Yoicks! Even though I've cut myself off from buying books... I'm still not exactly ripping through my collection of unreads, since I've been back to the library. I'm reading the entire Georgia series, and this time took out 2 graphic novels too! Woe is moi.

Good news is, once the winter weather sets in I abandon the library. Just never feel like leaving the house in cold weather.

Love Song of the Day: How can I edit my story when I need to tell you how much I LUB this song??

Haley catches a moth on the window screen. Then it's "nom nom nom" like a lolcat.

(I've taken to sitting here at the kitchen table, editing my book. ...Though tonight I've just been reading Georgia. Time to stop.)

Me and Midge

OK I was wrong about the spiders--they're definitely still hanging out, and are fatter than ever. Though none so fat as the ones who used to live outside my parents' home by the water, in Ile Perrot. One was so fat, I got paint on his body when painting the house; and next summer I was strolling past the house, and stopped... because there was my spotty-painted spider. That's the equivalent to me getting a glob of paint over one fifth of my body, and having to live that way. You'd think it would do something to a little spider dude... make him too heavy or something.

And those aren't male mosquitos--they don't have little furry noses. And they are definitely green. What is they?? ... ... I am back from Google Land. They are green midges! So cute and non-annoying, the little midgee-poos.

Georgia hears a ring at the door

It might be kitty trouble, because I don't know where the furry psychopath twins are (Angus and Gordy.) ...Oh God, if it is the cat vigilante group bringing the lads home on an assault charge, I'll go ballisticimus, if I have the energy.

Reading more Georgia Nicolson

When I went into the kitchen... Libby was styling Gordy's fur into a sort of Elvis quaff with hair gel. Mutti was making her costume for the Lord of the Rings party. I wasn't aware that there was a prostitute in Lord of the Rings, but as I have never got beyond the first mention of hobbits, I will never know.

["Mutti" is what she calls her mother. Gordy is one of the Angus' kittens.]

"Let's go down to the disco!"

Whenever one of Georgia or her friends say this, they all have to start disco dancing. I think I need to teach this to the other managers I work with.

I Just Want You To Know

That I chose this Kleenex package solely because it has monkeys in it.

books & bugs

I finally made myself finish the French-Canadian-in-French book I was reading: Nikolski. It's won a ton of awards and good reviews, and was recommended by a bookseller who reads everything under the sun, but... I never got into it. I really had to push through, and finally had to speed-read the last 1/4, which is hard for me to do in French! But I learned.

Maybe I'll take a glance through the award-winning English translation and see if there's something about the language which elevates this book, and which I missed out on. When I read Jane Urquhart's Away, I didn't love the story and characters, but the language was beautiful enough to make it worth finishing.

Or maybe I would have liked it better as an art-y movie.

At least it's done, and I can go on with my Connie Willis re-reading, and the continuation of the Georgia Nicholson series.

[Speaking of her little sister, who has once again crawled into bed with her.] I really love her. I kissed her on her forehead and without opening her eyes she slapped me and said, "Cheeky monkey." I don't know what goes on in her head. (Thank God.)

In other news, I finally got back to editing my story tonight. Sitting in the kitchen, with about 100 wee fly-bugs sitting up on the ceiling criticizing my writing. The weather's been so weird this summer, that everyone's having bug invasions. One talk radio dude was woken by his budgies, whose cage had been invaded by earwigs; and another radio host had a centipede crawling across her thigh while she was working one morning.

I've seen a couple earwigs, which we don't usually get in the apartment; a couple silverfish, which are normal; some flying-beatle-ing looking thing, many spiders (though they all disappeared this past week... maybe found more to do outside), a series of flies who hang out in the cool of the tree outside my window keep finding their way into my room (gap between screen and window) and then can't get out again, there's been the usual swarm of mosquitos, and then the little green flying bugs that look like tiny mosquitos-sans-stingers (maybe male mosquitos?) Plus one wasp, which Fernando had to trap and release (they're my biggest fear--I can share the same room with anything except bees and wasps), and then the moths.

The nights have still been cool, so we leave the balcony door and kitchen window open to let in the air, and so the cats can hang on the balcony--and these giant mothra moths keep getting in. Haley and Nombly lurv to eat them. She didn't know how to hunt when she got here, but learned from watching Nombly, and now she's a pro. Tonight she lept up on a screen window, had a moth trapped under one paw, and munched on it while hanging there, so she wouldn't lose it when she jumped off. A little moth snack. Like me with a bag of chippies.

Oh wait, there's a spider above my lamp. My brother and I once knew a guy who, everytime he saw a spider in his apartment, circled it with a pencil on the wall, and named it. We were at a party when he told us this, and someone said: What if it's the same spider, and now you've given it a complex?

...
Forgot to mention, I rented Becoming Jane from the library. Not very good, which is why I'd long avoided it. I would have preferred a biopic, rather than a sort of made up tragic love story.

The ABCs of Moi (a new facebook classic)

A - Age: 36

B - Bed size: twin

C - Chore you hate: the definition of a chore is that it's something you don't enjoy doing

D - Dog's name: Haley

E - Essential starts your day item: the toilet

F - Favorite color(s): at the moment, that nice deep bright blue that's in fashion

G - Gold or Silver: gold

H - Height: 5'10''

I - Instruments you play/played: voice, spoons, my grandfather's organ, my mother's piano when I was little

J - Job title: bookseller

K - Kid(s): 0

L - Living arrangements: apartment

M- My Mom's name: it doesn't start with M

N - Nicknames: Miss Mabel, T-Scone, and one that's too close to my real name to share on the intersnets

O - Overnight hospital stay other than birth: jaw surgery

P - Pet Peeve: rudeness

Q - Quote from a movie: "That Hansel, he's so hot right now." "The transport is away. Hurray!"

R - Right or left handed: Right

S - Siblings: brother Pablo

T - Time you wake up: 1 PMish

U - Underwear: cotton

V - Vegetable you dislike: still not partial to lima beans

W - Ways you run late: reading in bed in the morning

X - X-rays you've had: broken toe, teeth/jaw

Y - Yummy food you make: guacaminole

Z - Zoo favorite: zoos are bad... but I lurv every animal

A nice day

- 9 hours of uninterrupted (by kittehs) sleep
- did a little work for The Boss (not Springsteen)
- did 2 loads of laundry
- cleaned up the completely messy kitchen
- chores done! napped
- went to library:

-> KT Tunstall, Harry Connick Jr

-> Aya graphic novels

-> 3 more volumes of Georgia Nicholson

-> movie in Arabic (don't remember the name)

- instead of doing groceries, did empty-out-the-fridge cooking:

-> broccoli not rescuable
-> core of Boston lettuce still good
-> 4 peppers in perfect condition
-> English cucumber still fine
-> package of square pizza crusts past their date, but still alive
-> a bunch of pears I'd forgotten I bought

resulted in:
- a green salad with Jae Steele dressing
- Jae Steele chick pea salad
- pizzas
- pear and walnut pie (from Dolce Vegan - very good)

- watched part II of not-bad TV movie, with husband

- now sitting in bedroom, playing with toys

Homes of the day

Both of today's homes have finished basements.

This first one (first 4 pics) is mid 200 000, but would require more pulling up of carpets. But it has good, shall we say, bone structure. (I mean nice big windows etc., good room shape, etc.)




The second (last 2 pics) is much prettier, with all the right paint colours. But it's closer to 300 000.

Both of them have humangazoidically large back yards. I believe the one pictured is zoned for two lots, so I guess you could sell the back part and make up some money! Heavens. HUGE.

Treat books like tv?

Fun article from the Washington Times on how much of a book should you read before you abandon it--or should you do so at all?

One of her online friends reminded her there's even an abandonment rule: The "Deduct Your Age From 100 and Read That Many Pages Before Giving Up on a Book" rule. The older you get, the less inclined you are to waste your time on something that doesn't grab you.

So I can give up at page 64.

I have to admit, I'm trying to apply more of my speed-reading techniques learned in Poli Sci, to fiction. Speed reading isn't reading fast, it's just judicious skipping. Lately I've been taking teen books out from the library and skip-reading, just to get a feel for them and increase my product knowledge. Until I hit something wonderful like Angus, Thongs and Full-frontal Snogging, and then I read the whole thing.

Right now I've got a French book I half-abandoned. It was recommended by a bookseller in another store, but I'm having trouble getting into it. There are 4 characters, and each one is separately introduced, which always creates the problem of having to get into a book 4 times. I know from past experience that this can pay off--A Fine Balance starts with separate storylines, but it's worth the wait to see them all come together. (Lurved this book.) But Nikolski? ...I don't know. I'm on page 94 and I still don't feel sucked-in-a-fied. (Which is why I wandered into the Angus books. And now I've sidelined from that into Connie Willis, while I wait for my next Angus book from the library.)

I'm still not sure, however, if we should treat books like TV (as someone in the article says) and flip away as soon as we lose interest. I've read books that took awhile to get into, but by about 1/3 of the way through finally hooked me in, and I loved them. So maybe I should have a One Third rule. That would mean Nikolski has to get me in 10 more pages.

Man I wish we carried this book in our store

Slovenian book on pooping (click picture to see the rest of the book.)

2 good newses

1. Photographer Kyle Cassidy--who photographed Amanda Palmer dead, and people with guns, and writers' rooms--was at Worldcon photographing sci fi fantasy fans. And this happened:

At one point I looked up and a smiling woman handed me her model release and said "Hi, I'm Connie Willis." There was a long pause and I said "Hi. I'm a bit speechless." and after Connie Willis a lot more of the rich and famous swam through with the streams of fandom and I realized that one thing about f&sf which doesn't seem to be true of many other genres is that the authors, the best ones, every one, not only started out as fans but they still are.

I can't wait to see the photo! And all of them, cause I really like his work. (And he's a big cat lover, so I like his LJ too.)

2. After seeing the photo of me and my new BFF, my step-mother said we look like we're mother and daughter. I always knew Connie Willis was my long lost mother!! It explains EVERYthing. So exciting. ...The striking resemblance I supposedly bear to my so-called biological mother is quite the coincidence.

The Conquering Hero Returns

My husband is an Alpha Husband. Not only did he get the Connie Willis photo for me, today the hero returned from the last day of Worldcon with two Connie books.

One is Light Raid--an out of print book co-written with Cynthia Felice. I have one of their other co-written books (the only one in print), which I haven't even read --> you see, Willis writes her books slowly, so I keep Promised Land on hold for the day I get desperate. Now I will have two Willis reserves! Ha ha! Only I suspect I will get desperate soon, cause I'm in a Connie Mood and I can't wait for her new book in February.

i'm sooooooo shleepy

When I saw Connie Willis would be part of a panel Sunday morning at 9 AM, on why sci fi fans also enjoy the works of authors like Patrick O'Brian, Jane Austen, and Georgette Heyer, I was... tempted. But in the end I thought, no no... I've had a headache for 3 days straight... I can't handle more sleeplessness.

Then Fernando came home at 4 AM after partying, and said: "I'm leaving the house at 7 AM to see Connie! Be there or be squarish!" I hummed and hawed, and by the time I'd made up my mind to go, it was already 5 AM. I think I got about an hour of sleep. (None of this would have been an issue, except I was working that night.)

We got a nice seat in the front, and it was a very enjoyable panel, with lots of discussion about how reading an historical novel is like entering an alien world.

As you can see, Willis is one of those twinkle-in-the-eye types. I suspect Elizabeth Bennett looked just like her when she was reached 60.
Here's the full panel.

The next panel with Connie was called The Elders--it was supposed to be about what happens when suddenly you're the Ye Aulde Venerated Elder of sci fi writing. Elizabeth Vonarbug was the first to speak. She was really weird, cause I couldn't tell if she was just trying to be shocking, or she really meant all she said, or she meant it, but there was more to it. She said: I find this panel really insulting, being old SUCKS, everything about aging is insanely bad, why are we on this panel? While she was right in the middle of making a Heavy Deep and Emotional Point (that the longer you live the longer you see the same never-agains happen over and over, so of course we're all thinking about genocide or something)--just then the 5th panelist arrived. Interrupting, she asked the topic. When told: "What? You got me out of bed just to tell me I'm old!" Then she looked at the audience. "Get off my lawn!" Her interruption couldn't have been better timed. EV continued, but her moment just didn't carry the same gravitas.
Connie Willis then jumped in to say that, while everything EV said was true, Connie would be a Pollyanna til the day she died, and didn't think death was nearly as bad as we all think it is. (She has a whole book about facing death, called Passage.) Plus she felt the need to cheer us up before we all committed mass suicide (after each of EV's rants.) It was really funny.

After this I slumped back to the West Island. Fernando stayed until 10 PM. Here are some of his pics from later today, and from yesterday, but I don't know what they are. Will find out tomorrow.

(Stargate?)

(Just a funky dressed volunteer.)

(I think this was a hotel hall full of partying.)

And a mean looking Klingon!

Well maybe not so scary.

Connie, wankers, old cons, and Fernando disrupts everyone with racefail and Jar Jar.

The photos have been captioned with Adventure Stories. Excuse me if on your browser it looks like they're written in prose poetry. When I write in the blogger editing screen, the screen width is wider than once the post is published.

From Dancing in My Nuddy-Pants

Libby was applying some of Mutti's [what she calls her mother] face powder and lipstick to Angus whilst he sat on my bed. And he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he was purring. Becoming a furry vati [father] has made him alarmingly mellow. Or a transvestite.

Le Love Song du Jour: Too trusting, yes, but then women usually are

One of my favourite Nicks love songs. (Well most of her songs are love songs.) And Lindsey's voice compliments hers' so well.

Angus: Full of fabulosity

I'm reading book 4 of the Snogging series. The series has the best cat character I've ever read, Angus, who is part Scottish wild cat. They walk him on a leash and he's always clawing the family up, except the little sister whom he inexplicably allows to dress him up. He terrorize the poodles next door, and then fell in love with the purebred who moved in across the street. They had a torrid love affair, and before he waken taken away to be fixed he managed to impregnate her. Now the neighbors are stuck with these wild kittens... I can't wait to see how they turn out.

The heroine, who is a troublemaker herself, loves Angus' wild ways. This is what she says about the kittens:

"The kittykats have opened their eyes!!! They are sooooooo sweet and, as I explained to Jas, 'Now they can see to fight properly.'"

The series also has one of the best child characters I've ever read (heroine's sister). She's always coming to sleep in our heroine's bed, and she brings an entourage with her. It usually comprises at least Scuba Barbie, as well as any latest additions, such as her "pet" haggis (which she and Angus later eat), or a "pet" potato. For Christmas the heroine carves her a couple carrots with head scarves.

Me and my new BFF!!

I look Seriously Distressed at meeting my hero. Like a mortal meeting a god. I may have fainted after these pictures. *swoon!*

Worldcon Day 2 - London Mabel Attends

Here are the pics from today, but I am too much mucho tired to caption them. Will do so tomorrow. For now... they are Mysterioso.

I am back to caption.

Goal of the day was to make it in time for the Connie Willis reading. But I had to sign up for the day first, so we were a bit late. Of course, signing up had to be this Slow Process, with nice Volunteer Man pecking slowly away at the keyboard. Double checking whether I wanted my real name on my nametag (which I had already indicated on the sign up sheet he made me fill in.) Yes yes, real name. Only the first name? Yes. All caps or only one cap? ... ... ! [Here's me DYING to get to Connie. But at the same time, one can't be rude to kind sci fi conventioneer volunteers. Connie wouldn't approve.] Doesn't matter, I say politely.

Meanwhile Fernando was photographing this lovely Jedi Knight.
At Worldcon you can photograph just about anyone you meet.
It's like saying "nice to have met you."
But people in costumes especially expect it, which is coolio.

Connie was the first one reading, from her book due in February, Blackout. I am in Le Dying Suspense for her book. It's written in the same time travel universe as two of her other books, and one short story. It's about the bombing of London in WWII, which is something she has been particularly fascinated with since writing Firewatch. Willis is supa good at writing touching stories, without being maudlin. This one should be sooo supa good. She doesn't put out a book a year, she's definitely a Craftsperson and Supa Researcher.

The other two readings weren' so hot, though maybe it's hard to judge after hearing Willis. When we clapped for the first guy, he said: "thanks for clapping, Connie's fans." He quickly explained the premise of his book, which I didn't understand at all, so that made the rest of it seem pretty unappealing. The last guy was a bit funnier, but he wrote in second person, which I dislike. "You are sitting in a bar. You look up and..." It feels like you're in a Choose Your Own Adventure. I got through the first chapter. But then he switched characters and did a second chapter, and I lost the whole thread of the story.

After that we made our way to the front--Fernando was mucho ahead of me. He wanted to ask Connie for a photo (I had told him, as the Owner of the Camera, that he was in charge of getting Connie Pictures) because he had trouble focusing the camera while she was talking. She was all "most certainly" and then I showed up and Fernando said "do you mind if we include my wife, she's your biggest fan!" And she was supa patient and gracious. I lurv her, and lurv my husband for scoring the photo because I would have been WAY too shy to ever ask. (And that was after I acted pants all the way to the event, because we were going to be late.)

This was a panel on distribution and marketing. The distribution side I mostly know from working in le bookstore, but still interesting to hear an editor-type from Tor's perspective. And the agent too. And the marketing part was more useful and confirmed some things I'd read on blogs.

As you can see, Yoda was quite into it. But I suspect he just
had a crush on the tall lady with the cute dress and the
thick eyebrows.

("Rowr!" thought Yoda as he munched on his mini Ritz.)

Also: I liked this girl's hair.

Then off to a panel on race representation in sci fi art. After racefail 09
I needed to get in SOME sort of panel like this. The guy on the left is Israeli, and
didn't really know why he was on the panel. Which was funny. The moderator
was the guy in the middle, a comics-type, and he was funny. But he freaked out
when Fernando brought up Racefail in a question, because he had some friends
who were le hurt by what went down. But the two ladies (don't have a pic of the
other one) were all "Racefail was not fail, it was coolio and useful." So the panel ended
and they all went off in a tither, the woman not-pictured determined to have a
discussion with the moderator man. Fernando said that Moderator Man must hate him
for having brought it up. But I said, well you can see all the peeples of color went
off together afterwards, and they doubtless had a smashing good conversation
because of you.

We didn't get a photo of the next panel. It was about social scientists
and whether they too can be Evil Science Geniusi in sci fi stories.
The moderator was funny--a social psychologist named Sparks, who insisted
that social scientists were already running the world and had nothing to
worry about.

We thought we were doing quite well in terms of panels and risked another. I was torn between
one for First Time Writers (supposed to be "tongue in cheek") and one on George
Lucas and whether he's ruined sci fi films or not--how he changed them.
While Fernando thought the Lucas might be a mistake, it was closer, and it didn't
seem right to be at a sci fi con and not talk Star Wars. (I was, after all, wearing
my Chewie is My Copilot t-shirt, and carrying beanie Yoda.)

Yoda settled in, all excited... We both expected an interesting conversation
about sci fi films, blockbusters, and such. After all, the other panel discussions
were very intelligent.

But Fernando was right to be wary of this one.
It's been FIVE YEARS since the last new Lucas movie came out.
And yet.
All these people wanted to talk about was how much they hated
the newer SW films.

I mean.
Seriously.
Seriously?
I was interested in these debates when the movies first came
out. But now it's like... hello... are we still talking about this??!!
So you hated the movies, big fucking deal. Let's move on!!
They had a much bigger room than was needed, because clearly all the
Intelligent Star Wars Fans had already realized (perhaps from attending
other cons) that this would simply be an anti-Lucas rant fest, and wisely attended
First Time Writers or The Persistence of Form and Ritual or Quebec Genre Cinema
The Vikings.

Thing is... I hate most movie critics. I discovered decades ago that they're
all closet stand-up-comedians-come-Oscar-Wilde-wannabes. They don't
care about intelligently criticizing movies, they just want to be soooo clever
and witty and recognized for their daring and cleverly worded scathitude.
Gag me with a smurf.
The moderator, one Daniel Kimmel, was a Prime A Example of this type.
He was, as the Brits would say, a prat. O the irony as he sat there talking
about Lucas' ego, when his own ego was about to blow up the room through over-
inflation. And I couldn't even walk out, cause he would have thought I was
An Offended Star Wars True Believer. And I refused to give him the satisfaction.
I was BORED because we weren't talking about the actual announced subject.
And because he was a wanker. And whenever something interesting or intelligent was
said, he was just "hmm yes" and moved on until he got to someone who would say something brilliant and original like: "What about the horribleness of Jar Jar! And Ewoks!' and
then he was off again. (And I would like to say... I know what a good moderator looks
like, because that's all Teaching Assistants are. Your whole job is to take the most
random student comments, and spin them into an INTERESTING discussion.)

He hardly called upon
any of the other panelists to speak, he just wanted to hear himself saying his
tired jokes about Lucas, which unfortunately elicited laughs from the crowd
who clearly were there for the same thing--to Be Boring.
I made one comment: "I think one influence Lucas had on film was the imagination
he fired in my generation. When you watch the original movies, you still get that feeling
of wonder and excitement, and you can see that in the people who grew
up and made things like Battlestar Galacictica, which is an example of an
intelligent and interesting sci fi series [as opposed to most sci fi movies,
which we all agreed were mostly about special effects.]"

But first, when he called upon me to speak, he had to make an O So Clever
comment about my t-shirt (which he could see had a SW logo, but he of course
couldn't read and see its--as Georgia would say--Cleverosity.) You see the other
Big Clever Amazingly Deep and Insightful Critique from him and the
audience was that Lucas is just out to make loads of money.
Wow, no one's ever said that one.
So when he saw my t-shirt logo he was all: Yes, you who has given money to Lucas.
So I said, in my girly-innocent voice: "It says Chewie is My Co-pilot. It's a double-
edged joke, a spiritual joke." (It's a play on the Christian phrase that was
popular for awhile, "Jesus is My Co-pilot." My cleveroso brother bought it
for me. But it was too cleveroso for this crowd.) (And I'd like to add that every one
of those "O Lucas and his money!" people in the audience ALL OWN A COLLECTION
OF ACTION FIGURES. I'd bet my life on it.)

And finally, on top of it all... he and the other panelists didn't even know their
SW shit. It was all "well he originally said there'd be 9 parts" which is a SW myth.
(Lucas set out to write ONE movie. He wrote and wrote and ended up with a ton
of backstory, as many writers do. And then realized there was way too much material
for one movie, and thought he might need 9 parts.
But he managed to tell the latter part of the story in 3. And then when he got
the chance, gave us the backstory. End of.)

And they insisted that to this day the original Star Wars movie doesn't exist
in DVD. Ummm yes? Hello? "Oh but it must say "A New Hope." Uhhh no? Proof here.
Dumbass.) The only good part of the whole thing was when Fernando put his hand
up at the end and said he loves Jar Jar. Here was this critic dude, trying so hard to
Be Shocking, when if he really wanted to shock, all he had to do was profess love
for Jar Jar. Fuul.

It was all quite horribiloso. It was 10 PM by then and we called it a day. We sat
down to eat the last of our snacks. Here is Fernando having an animated convo
with a janitor. One of the Decent Star Wars Fans came by and smiled: "Are they still
debating?" "No," I replied, "he's talking to the janitor." And, might I add, he's explaining
why with the swine flu and all, the man should sneeze into his arm and not his
hand. My husband is a walking Health Advert. You should all thank him.
(And not sneeze into your hands.)

But before leaving Fernando showed me some things. They have some cool boards,
like this one, on OLD COMPUTER PAPER!!, where you can sign up for parties.
The sci fi geeks party like CRAZY. They stay up all night, having parties in every
hotel room, and then get up at 7 Am and start all over again. You advertise your party
here, and anyone can go.

They also had this old school sign, with a note affixed saying not to throw it out.
Considering that Worldcon must have the funds to put up classier
signage and boards if they wanted to, I suspect these signs and systems have
been around since the beginning of time, and they don't change them in order
to achieve Old School Chic. Very cool.

They print up a list of all the attendees, and if you have a message for
someone you put a pushpin next to their name. Then you fill out a card, and
file it under the person's name in an old school library filing card system
Isn't that insanely Old Schoolz Coolz?
Here is Fernando writing a note.

Luckily we then met a bunch of nice people, who got the Egotestical Critic
out of our heads. Fernando told this guy how much he lurved this shirt. His wife
made it, and they got into this whole discussion of fabric, which she called
Cthulu pattern (I guess they're Lovecraft fans.) The thing is... everyone at Worldcon
is like my husbandioso. They are friendly and outgoing and will talk at length
about anything. ...Get the feeling Fernando has found his home planet at last?

This man noticed me holding the camera correctly (close to the body) while
taking the last pic, and came over to commend me on it. Turns out he's
an old convention veteran, and we had a long chat. And then another
conny came by, been going to Worldcon for 40 years, and we talked
to him too. (Well he did most of the talking.) When he asked my fave author
and I said Connie Willis, he said: "Oh she's a nice lady. Harlan Ellison
once put his hand on her boob."
These chats made us much cheerier, and we left in a good mood.

But our adventures weren't over. On the 211 home we sat in the back next to 2 super loud drunk (but nice) French dudes. They were still drinking beers (offered me one.) They were coming back from the Blink-182 concert, as well as two giggling girls across the way (they all started singing together.) Drunkenness isn't very hot, though, so the boys (mid 20s? late 20s?) had no chance to pick up.

Then a girl next to Fernando piped up: "You two were on my train from Vaudreuil at 4 in the afternoon, and you already had a six pack!" "It was a 24," one guy replied.

Later a guy got on the bus and was standing by us, rolling his eyes at the drunks. He said: Better to stick to the natural stuff (grass, one assumes.)

The 211 was on a detour, along Lakeshore, so I was worried about where to get off to walk home (it was 12:30 AM). We had to get off in the village and walk home, and we it was much longer to get to St Jean from the there than we expected, so we weren't home til 1:50 AM! And then we passed out.

Now Fernando is trying to convince me to go first thing in the AM to see Connie Willis again. Two hours sleep, and me with a headache for the last 3 days straight. Hesa crazy!