I promised myself I would write something today, because I haven't been writing and that's, well, a problem for me. I've been reading plenty, and making the most of my break, but no writing. Which is shit, really, because this is the best possible time I could have to sit back and work. No class work. No job responsibilities. Really nothing to do with my time but write. Or revise. Or blog. Which is about the lowest form of writing I could stoop to, and so here I am.
Aside from not writing, I've been enjoying my time off from classes. I've shuttled back and forth between here and Philly a couple of times, spent days hanging around with old friends, drunk enough coffee to bathe an infant. And there's at least three weeks left for adventuring and so much to see.
I realized the other day, after I spent a few hours wandering around the Met with a friend and didn't manage to scratch the surface of their exhibits, that there's really no excuse to ever get bored in this city. There's always something to see or do, much of which doesn't cost a dime. Parks, museums, art exhibits in public buildings. My friend Amanda found a store that has six floors of nothing but expensive textiles that will be lovely if I'm ever inclined to fondle the other half's linens for an hour or two (which happens more often than you'd think from a guy who doesn't know his own thread count).
One of the things that always frustrated me about Chicago is that it never seemed like I could get away with any no-money fun, unless I resorted to harassing people on the street (and I did from time to time). For all that NYC deserves its reputation as an expensive place to live--and it is--there's a nice balance it strikes in offering fun things to do for nothing. It's an aspect of this city I really love and need to take advantage of more often. Note to self.
Right. As blog entries go, I think I'll file that as one of the lesser ones, but for now, I need to go to sleep. Until next time...um...insert witty sign-off here.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
FAQ
A friend of mine in the Columbia writing program has an FAQ section on his Web site (that's Frequently Asked Questions, for those of you born in and around the nineteenth century), and I have to say, it makes me a little bit jealous of him. Mostly because it comprises, in nearly its entirety, the same questions I have on my Questions I Never Get Asked list. For example:
1. How do you spell that?
It's spelled R-O-S, as in Samuel-S, as in Samuel-I. As in, "Martini and Rossi," which is a vermouth company. Alternatively, you could think of it as being like Carlo Rossi, the maker of fine jug wines. Carlo is, in fact, my uncle from a somewhat estranged side of the family. We don't see him much, but I like to support the family business.
2. Paper or plastic?
Plastic, typically. I know it's not the most environmentally correct way to go on this particular question, but I find I have more use for plastic bags than I do for paper. I can store halved onions in plastic, for example, or any fruits and vegetables that would otherwise do poorly in my fridge. I've also made good use of plastic bags in place of bubble wrap for sending out delicate packages, whereas all I've ever done with paper bags is add them to the trash pile. Or, on occasion, made them into puppets for live-action versions of Fandango commercials.
3. How was your trip?
My trip was probably fine. I don't think I've ever taken a trip that didn't qualify as strictly fine. Which is to say, I've never had a trip take any disastrous turns, but I've also never had a trip so free of basic annoyances that it qualified as transcendent or even great. Most of the time, the trip does get me there and back, though, so I can't really complain. There was this one trip with my friend Holly, though, that went, not exactly disastrously, but kind of berserk.
We were driving from North Carolina to Philly together for the holidays, with a stopover somewhere in Delaware. Newark, I think. Somewhere in Virginia, about two hours south of Richmond, her car stalled and wouldn't get started again. Holly called AAA, and in short order, we were met by two mechanics--one large, who we named the Big Guy, the other small, who we called the Little Guy. The mechanics took a look at the car and said something very necessary had died. I think it was the alternator, but I wouldn't know. So the alternator died and the nearest alternator was two weeks away. We asked for a ride back to their shop to make a phone call, and they told us if we did that, one of us would have to ride in the car. Which was on back of the tow truck. Since neither Holly or I thought we'd be able to live with ourselves if the other person died while on back of the truck, we both decided to ride in the car. It was a little like tailgating at high speed. The two mechanics, seemingly oblivious to the danger Holly and I were in, sped down the highway and off onto a few winding back roads, until we were at their mechanic shop. Once there, Holly and I determined somehow that our best bet was to get one of the guys to take us to Richmond to catch a train. The Little Guy, whose name was Shorty, as luck would have it, volunteered for the task, and off we went. This time inside the cab of the car. Upon arriving in Richmond, we couldn't find the train station, but were able to find the airport. There, we tipped Shorty and thanked him, then bought a plane ticket at the last minute for Philly. This was back in the day when you could still buy a last-minute plane ticket. And with that, the adventure ended.
But yeah, other than that, my trip was fine.
4. Why do you ask?
No particular reason. I was just interested. Really. More often than not, unless the thing I'm asking about is really dire, like "Do I have skin cancer?" or really official, like "Where do I sign?" I'm just asking because I was interested. If you have to ask me why I'm asking, odds are good, this is the answer.
5. What's up?
Not much. What's up with you? Unless there's something madly exciting happening to me, I'd rather hear what's going on with you. Hence the infrequency with which I update this blog. And the number of women I've dated who claim I never tell them anything about myself. Honestly, I'm not that interesting.
6. Are you hungry?
I'm not particularly hungry at the moment, but I could probably eat. I think I've actually come to this answer out of a need to be vague in response to a vague and kind of leading question. The way it goes in my family is that they ask me if I'm hungry, and I say yes, they immediately feed me when I get home. If I say no, they've been known to delay dinner. Which is really the exact opposite of what I want at any given time. Unless I'm really starving, in which case I'll just fix myself a snack, I don't need to be fed the immediate instant I get hungry. So I always find it best to cop to having, not a sense of hunger exactly, but a general disposition towards eating. That hedges my bets nicely.
7. How long are you going to keep this joke going?
I guess that's really it, but in truth, I could keep going for as long as it takes for the joke to stop being funny. And then some. It takes a long time before I cut off a thought that's made me laugh. I mean, take this one. It continues to amuse me so much that I've actually gone back, now, weeks later and added to it. Because there was unfinished tomfoolery to be had, and I cannot have that. That's how dedicated I am to a joke that's only modestly funny to me. Imagine what I do when the joke really gets me off. Go on...imagine. I'll wait.
And there you go. The questions I get asked with the most frequency.
What do you read?Practically nobody asks me that when they find out I'm a writer. Nobody! It's a sin, frankly, because I have some pretty good taste in literature (The few questions on his list that I do get asked a lot are also on my Questions that Annoy Me list. Like, "Where do you get your ideas?" From my brain, typically.) Anyway, after much deliberation, and a few late-night conversations--possibly/probably including alcohol--I have decided that this blog needs an FAQ. So here they are, the questions everyone asks me all the time. In no particular order.
I’m by no means a fast reader though I do manage an average of 50 books a year, most being literary fiction, classics and contemporary alike. See Reading List for suggested titles.
1. How do you spell that?
It's spelled R-O-S, as in Samuel-S, as in Samuel-I. As in, "Martini and Rossi," which is a vermouth company. Alternatively, you could think of it as being like Carlo Rossi, the maker of fine jug wines. Carlo is, in fact, my uncle from a somewhat estranged side of the family. We don't see him much, but I like to support the family business.
2. Paper or plastic?
Plastic, typically. I know it's not the most environmentally correct way to go on this particular question, but I find I have more use for plastic bags than I do for paper. I can store halved onions in plastic, for example, or any fruits and vegetables that would otherwise do poorly in my fridge. I've also made good use of plastic bags in place of bubble wrap for sending out delicate packages, whereas all I've ever done with paper bags is add them to the trash pile. Or, on occasion, made them into puppets for live-action versions of Fandango commercials.
3. How was your trip?
My trip was probably fine. I don't think I've ever taken a trip that didn't qualify as strictly fine. Which is to say, I've never had a trip take any disastrous turns, but I've also never had a trip so free of basic annoyances that it qualified as transcendent or even great. Most of the time, the trip does get me there and back, though, so I can't really complain. There was this one trip with my friend Holly, though, that went, not exactly disastrously, but kind of berserk.
We were driving from North Carolina to Philly together for the holidays, with a stopover somewhere in Delaware. Newark, I think. Somewhere in Virginia, about two hours south of Richmond, her car stalled and wouldn't get started again. Holly called AAA, and in short order, we were met by two mechanics--one large, who we named the Big Guy, the other small, who we called the Little Guy. The mechanics took a look at the car and said something very necessary had died. I think it was the alternator, but I wouldn't know. So the alternator died and the nearest alternator was two weeks away. We asked for a ride back to their shop to make a phone call, and they told us if we did that, one of us would have to ride in the car. Which was on back of the tow truck. Since neither Holly or I thought we'd be able to live with ourselves if the other person died while on back of the truck, we both decided to ride in the car. It was a little like tailgating at high speed. The two mechanics, seemingly oblivious to the danger Holly and I were in, sped down the highway and off onto a few winding back roads, until we were at their mechanic shop. Once there, Holly and I determined somehow that our best bet was to get one of the guys to take us to Richmond to catch a train. The Little Guy, whose name was Shorty, as luck would have it, volunteered for the task, and off we went. This time inside the cab of the car. Upon arriving in Richmond, we couldn't find the train station, but were able to find the airport. There, we tipped Shorty and thanked him, then bought a plane ticket at the last minute for Philly. This was back in the day when you could still buy a last-minute plane ticket. And with that, the adventure ended.
But yeah, other than that, my trip was fine.
4. Why do you ask?
No particular reason. I was just interested. Really. More often than not, unless the thing I'm asking about is really dire, like "Do I have skin cancer?" or really official, like "Where do I sign?" I'm just asking because I was interested. If you have to ask me why I'm asking, odds are good, this is the answer.
5. What's up?
Not much. What's up with you? Unless there's something madly exciting happening to me, I'd rather hear what's going on with you. Hence the infrequency with which I update this blog. And the number of women I've dated who claim I never tell them anything about myself. Honestly, I'm not that interesting.
6. Are you hungry?
I'm not particularly hungry at the moment, but I could probably eat. I think I've actually come to this answer out of a need to be vague in response to a vague and kind of leading question. The way it goes in my family is that they ask me if I'm hungry, and I say yes, they immediately feed me when I get home. If I say no, they've been known to delay dinner. Which is really the exact opposite of what I want at any given time. Unless I'm really starving, in which case I'll just fix myself a snack, I don't need to be fed the immediate instant I get hungry. So I always find it best to cop to having, not a sense of hunger exactly, but a general disposition towards eating. That hedges my bets nicely.
7. How long are you going to keep this joke going?
I guess that's really it, but in truth, I could keep going for as long as it takes for the joke to stop being funny. And then some. It takes a long time before I cut off a thought that's made me laugh. I mean, take this one. It continues to amuse me so much that I've actually gone back, now, weeks later and added to it. Because there was unfinished tomfoolery to be had, and I cannot have that. That's how dedicated I am to a joke that's only modestly funny to me. Imagine what I do when the joke really gets me off. Go on...imagine. I'll wait.
And there you go. The questions I get asked with the most frequency.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
In Philly
My semester ended a couple of days ago, leaving me with six weeks to read and write and get ready for the next semester. At least, I think it's six weeks. I mean to spend this time actively preparing for next semester, finishing up a few stories and getting started on the novel I've had brewing in my head for a while. One can only hope it'll go over well. In the meantime, I have time to enjoy NYC a bit before I have to start working again.
The semester ended well, by the way. I think I'm finally getting the hang of this grad school thing. Which is easier said than done, really. It took me most of the semester to realize I was having a hard time adjusting to the change of scenery and the new pacing of my life. After six years, I'm not used to school anymore. I'm definitely not used to being surrounded by writers. Honestly, and this was pretty dumb of me in retrospect, I thought I'd just plop right down into a new city, new life, new everything and just merge without a blink. As it turns out, I needed a bit of time, but I think I have the hang of it, at last. I'm looking forward to next semester.
Family news...
My grandmother died over the weekend. Apparently, she hadn't been eating much of anything for a while (something I noticed over Thanksgiving), and it finally took its toll on her. Truthfully, I suspect she decided it was time to let go, and so she did. She died happy, and peacefully, and she died with most of her faculties intact. Apparently, one of her last requests was for a glass of scotch. Grandma liked scotch, and I suspect she just wanted to get a last taste in before she went.
Personally, I'm relatively OK. Most of the time, deaths in my family don't bother me so much. I don't know exactly why, but I like to think I just see death as a part of life. Something I couldn't control and wouldnt'. Plus which, we've been expecting this to come for a long time. A few years ago, grandma's cardiologist gave her a prognosis of just a couple of months, which she shoved in his face and turned into three good years. I think my grandmother just decided she'd had a good run of it and let go. Hopefully, I'll have that much control over it when my time comes.
Anyway, I'm in Philly tonight. The actual funeral isn't until January, but we're holding a viewing tomorrow, and I thought I should be here for it. Half the reason I came out to the East Coast was so that I could be with my family when they need me. I figure I should make the best of it.
It's strange. My grandfather--her husband--died around this time, almost to the day. I remember it started me writing a novel I had been putting off for a while (and then subsequently never finished). Maybe now I should finish it.
So that's that. Next time, I'll have an FAQ section for you guys. That's right...I get some frequently asked questions.
The semester ended well, by the way. I think I'm finally getting the hang of this grad school thing. Which is easier said than done, really. It took me most of the semester to realize I was having a hard time adjusting to the change of scenery and the new pacing of my life. After six years, I'm not used to school anymore. I'm definitely not used to being surrounded by writers. Honestly, and this was pretty dumb of me in retrospect, I thought I'd just plop right down into a new city, new life, new everything and just merge without a blink. As it turns out, I needed a bit of time, but I think I have the hang of it, at last. I'm looking forward to next semester.
Family news...
My grandmother died over the weekend. Apparently, she hadn't been eating much of anything for a while (something I noticed over Thanksgiving), and it finally took its toll on her. Truthfully, I suspect she decided it was time to let go, and so she did. She died happy, and peacefully, and she died with most of her faculties intact. Apparently, one of her last requests was for a glass of scotch. Grandma liked scotch, and I suspect she just wanted to get a last taste in before she went.
Personally, I'm relatively OK. Most of the time, deaths in my family don't bother me so much. I don't know exactly why, but I like to think I just see death as a part of life. Something I couldn't control and wouldnt'. Plus which, we've been expecting this to come for a long time. A few years ago, grandma's cardiologist gave her a prognosis of just a couple of months, which she shoved in his face and turned into three good years. I think my grandmother just decided she'd had a good run of it and let go. Hopefully, I'll have that much control over it when my time comes.
Anyway, I'm in Philly tonight. The actual funeral isn't until January, but we're holding a viewing tomorrow, and I thought I should be here for it. Half the reason I came out to the East Coast was so that I could be with my family when they need me. I figure I should make the best of it.
It's strange. My grandfather--her husband--died around this time, almost to the day. I remember it started me writing a novel I had been putting off for a while (and then subsequently never finished). Maybe now I should finish it.
So that's that. Next time, I'll have an FAQ section for you guys. That's right...I get some frequently asked questions.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
