Year's end
Frankly, I'm a bit worried to even start this entry, as LJ has been up and down for me all day. That's a gigantic pain in the ass, given that I'm on my second week of vacation, my parents have gone, I've done most of the cleaning/sorting that there is to do in the house, and I'm downright BORED. I guess that's what I get for hoarding all my time until the end of the year, and then taking off when no one else does.
My mom and step-dad were here last week. It was, in general, a very good week. Despite looking older -- I haven't seen her in almost two years -- my mom didn't really act it. Sure, she repeated the same stories over and over, but I don't think that's so much a symptom of age as it is that she spends most of her days doing the exact same thing. (This is a trait that my grandmother also has, though she genuinely doesn't seem to remember that she's repeating herself, even when you remind her. I'm sure it will be my turn one day.) I had forgotten, as I always do, that my mother is pretty old-fashioned when it comes to men. If my step-dad didn't like what we were having for dinner, she would offer to make something else. If he needed anything, she would fetch it. There's never any room for good-natured ribbing about gender roles. Obviously, Brad and I aren't like that, and both my parents sometimes find it a little uncomfortable. Brad cooks, which my step-dad mocked on more than one occasion. He makes sure it's okay with me when he spends too much time out in the garage, or before he leaves the house. He's not asking permission, he's just making sure nothing else is going on, but to my dad that makes him less of a man. He's not vocal about it, usually, but he always says a few things that get my hackles up. They did make it out to my show on Monday, and seemed to have a wonderful time. I think they were shocked that I was any good at performing, which maybe I should be felt as an insult? But certainly they haven't seen me on a stage in almost 15 years, and had a right to be confused about why I'd get back into performance by taking my clothes off.
As my Christmas present, everyone chipped in to help us get started on floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in the living room. Brad would have been willing to take on dozens of other household projects, but I've been wanting them so badly. It's taking much longer than we thought, and the materials/tools were much more expensive than we anticipated, but I think it will be worth it. We long ago ran out of room in our IKEA shelving, and it's not like we're going to stop buying books. I'm guessing that most of the prep work will be done in the evenings this week, and we'll get the uprights installed over the weekend. Hopefully, by next weekend, we'll be painting. (Yes, painting, not staining. The room is tiny, and the rest of the trim is white, and I want the shelves to match.) We're going to have a ladder! So exciting.
At my request, Nick bought me the Twilight books for Christmas. As anyone knows, I'm a sucker for pop culture phenomena, and after half a dozen conflicting conversations about whether they were bad in a good way or just plain bad, I decided I needed to know for myself. So here's what I think: Stephanie Meyer is a pretty terrible writer, but chose a theme (a vampire in love with a human! so joss whedon!) that people would like. The first book in the series could have been less melodramatic, but I could see why people would like it. The second book in the series was stretched thin, and the girl was every bit as co-dependent as I had heard. But, okay. I read both books in a single day, so something must have been entertaining enough to hold me. Things really started going off the rails in book three. As Lisa says, SO EMO OMG. And, also, it totally wasn't necessary to stretch out the story by throwing in a bunch of lame mythology. I skimmed and was glad when it was over. But, woah. Woah! Woah is book four. What a stinking pile of shit. It took me twice as long to get through it as the other three combined. The storytelling was terrible. The structure of the storytelling -- after three books, writing several chapters from someone else's POV -- was completely unnecessary. It was terrible. Just TERRIBLE. The fourth book negated ANY positive feelings I might have had about even one iota of this series, and whoever edited these damn things should be ASHAMED of themselves, I don't care how many copies it sold. Stephanie Meyer should have been stopped before she wrote such a mess. Seriously.
And now I have a few more days off. I'm going into the office tomorrow for a couple of meetings, but otherwise won't be in until Friday. I'll be going back to an actual office, which I'll be sharing with another VP. I'm looking forward to walls and a door, even if I have to share them. The girl I'll be with is one of my favorite people in the company, so I'm hopeful we'll be compatible. She said the place is a wreck, the furniture they stuck us with is crappy, and it's freezing. We'll be doing some serious interior decorating, that's for sure.
Just have to figure out what to do with myself for the next few days. Baking, perhaps.
My mom and step-dad were here last week. It was, in general, a very good week. Despite looking older -- I haven't seen her in almost two years -- my mom didn't really act it. Sure, she repeated the same stories over and over, but I don't think that's so much a symptom of age as it is that she spends most of her days doing the exact same thing. (This is a trait that my grandmother also has, though she genuinely doesn't seem to remember that she's repeating herself, even when you remind her. I'm sure it will be my turn one day.) I had forgotten, as I always do, that my mother is pretty old-fashioned when it comes to men. If my step-dad didn't like what we were having for dinner, she would offer to make something else. If he needed anything, she would fetch it. There's never any room for good-natured ribbing about gender roles. Obviously, Brad and I aren't like that, and both my parents sometimes find it a little uncomfortable. Brad cooks, which my step-dad mocked on more than one occasion. He makes sure it's okay with me when he spends too much time out in the garage, or before he leaves the house. He's not asking permission, he's just making sure nothing else is going on, but to my dad that makes him less of a man. He's not vocal about it, usually, but he always says a few things that get my hackles up. They did make it out to my show on Monday, and seemed to have a wonderful time. I think they were shocked that I was any good at performing, which maybe I should be felt as an insult? But certainly they haven't seen me on a stage in almost 15 years, and had a right to be confused about why I'd get back into performance by taking my clothes off.
As my Christmas present, everyone chipped in to help us get started on floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in the living room. Brad would have been willing to take on dozens of other household projects, but I've been wanting them so badly. It's taking much longer than we thought, and the materials/tools were much more expensive than we anticipated, but I think it will be worth it. We long ago ran out of room in our IKEA shelving, and it's not like we're going to stop buying books. I'm guessing that most of the prep work will be done in the evenings this week, and we'll get the uprights installed over the weekend. Hopefully, by next weekend, we'll be painting. (Yes, painting, not staining. The room is tiny, and the rest of the trim is white, and I want the shelves to match.) We're going to have a ladder! So exciting.
At my request, Nick bought me the Twilight books for Christmas. As anyone knows, I'm a sucker for pop culture phenomena, and after half a dozen conflicting conversations about whether they were bad in a good way or just plain bad, I decided I needed to know for myself. So here's what I think: Stephanie Meyer is a pretty terrible writer, but chose a theme (a vampire in love with a human! so joss whedon!) that people would like. The first book in the series could have been less melodramatic, but I could see why people would like it. The second book in the series was stretched thin, and the girl was every bit as co-dependent as I had heard. But, okay. I read both books in a single day, so something must have been entertaining enough to hold me. Things really started going off the rails in book three. As Lisa says, SO EMO OMG. And, also, it totally wasn't necessary to stretch out the story by throwing in a bunch of lame mythology. I skimmed and was glad when it was over. But, woah. Woah! Woah is book four. What a stinking pile of shit. It took me twice as long to get through it as the other three combined. The storytelling was terrible. The structure of the storytelling -- after three books, writing several chapters from someone else's POV -- was completely unnecessary. It was terrible. Just TERRIBLE. The fourth book negated ANY positive feelings I might have had about even one iota of this series, and whoever edited these damn things should be ASHAMED of themselves, I don't care how many copies it sold. Stephanie Meyer should have been stopped before she wrote such a mess. Seriously.
And now I have a few more days off. I'm going into the office tomorrow for a couple of meetings, but otherwise won't be in until Friday. I'll be going back to an actual office, which I'll be sharing with another VP. I'm looking forward to walls and a door, even if I have to share them. The girl I'll be with is one of my favorite people in the company, so I'm hopeful we'll be compatible. She said the place is a wreck, the furniture they stuck us with is crappy, and it's freezing. We'll be doing some serious interior decorating, that's for sure.
Just have to figure out what to do with myself for the next few days. Baking, perhaps.