kblincoln

my great, great love for HBO

Sun, 14 Jun 09 13:58:00 UT

There used to be several shows I'd watch over the course of a week.

In the last two years, I've gotten...erm....less tolerant, I suppose.

I'll watch the food channel in order to spend time with hubby, but other than that, the only shows I NEED to see aren't ones on the major channels anymore.

However, as I have also discovered in the past year, HBO and Showtime have alot of really, really awesome programming going on.

#1 On Kirsten's lovelist (not suitable for young audiences or my parents, probably)

True Blood

You can rib me all you want about vampires and romance and all that. It won't change the fact that this show ROCKS because of the characters. It's definitely not something I'd let my children watch, but boy oh boy am I excited the second season is resuming TONIGHT!

#2 On Kirsten's lovelist (not suitable for young audiences or my parents, probably. My brother might like it.)

Dexter, starring an alumni from Earlham I worked for backstage during my college years. Dexter is sick, and gross, and utterly compelling. It's visually and viscerally disturbing, and it stays with you into the daylight hours. But I. Can't. Stop. Watching.

#3 on Kirsten's lovelist (suitable for all audiences and recommended for all three of my parents)

The no. 1 Ladies Detective Agency. If you haven't read the books, you should read those, too. If you haven't seen this show, you are definitely missing out. Not only do you get Botswana culture, history, and fabulous characters, but its a peek into a world not often seen in US tv. I'm fascinated and puzzled by it in equal terms.

But still you feel your heart melting like butter at poignant scenes.

Well, off I go to make sure my DVR is going to tape tonight's second season premiere of True Blood....

Sadness all around

Wed, 3 Jun 09 09:46:00 UT

There's sadness in the air this June.

The news of a doctor, shot in a Kansas church. A local man who took the life of his own children in despair, here in Oregon.

It seems to me that killing someone like this is the ultimate act of selfishness. It denies personhood, it says that the killer is somehow better or more righteous than the person who loses any chance to live a life that could prove that assumption wrong.

And while these deaths do not touch me directly, they've made me stop and think and feel sad and wonder about the senselessness of it.

Just thinking about it today, while girl2 was at her Japanese class, I remembered a book I'd just read to her yesterday called "God's Dream" by Bishop Desmond Tutu. Now there's a man who had direct, personal experience with sadness and evil, and selfishness.

I'm not mentioning this book here because I think it explains why people kill, or that it will heal grief, or any of that.

Nothing does that, not really.

I'm mentioning it because I think one of the only ways we can get through our days here on this messy, difficult, toilsome earth, is by remembering that what we do matters.

Each day. Each moment.

As the book says, there is a piece of god in all of us. And when we cry or hurt, god cries with us.

And when we are kind, and heal each other, and forgive, then our pieces merge together, and some of god is made whole here on earth.

And so that gives me a little hope. Because its hard to live without believing that somehow, those of us reaching out to eachother, trying to make our little pieces of divinity whole, outweigh those of us trying to snuff it out.

ETA: Another PDX mama's views on another local tragedy of the Sellwood bridge killings.

The Way It Should Be: or dude, buy yourself some ambiguity tolerance

Thu, 28 May 09 17:27:00 UT

I've recently been thinking about what my problem is.

You laugh. But really, I HAVE been thinking about why upcoming Field Day and preschool vacation bible school (both of which I am involved in in the organizational way for the first time this year) stress me out so much.

And I've decided that part of the problem is that I sucketh at visualizing stuff. I really don't Have. A. Clue. what those things are like (never having organized them before) and not being able to visualize how it goes means I don't know what I'm doing.

And that stresses me out. You see, I am terrible at visualizing. I'm convinced the reason I don't paint or draw or decorate my home or know how to dress is because I can't get a picture in my mind of The Way Things Are Supposed to Be. I don't say "I'm going to draw a cat" because I can't see the cat before a cat exists. Now if you give me a picture of a cat and tell me to copy it, I'm fine.

On the other hand, not having a monolithic, black and white picture in my head kind of helps when contemplating the future or looking for solutions to problems. Because I don't know The Way Things Are Supposed to Be, it means I can see alternatives to the way things are done now.

It means I can hold two, totally opposing and opposite views in my head at the same time. Yep, I understand that bacon and potato salad drizzled with mayonnaise is WRONG on pizza, at the same time I take a bite and enjoy it.

I marvel at people who are so confident about How Things Should Be, whether it be their opinions about abortion or how to spend PTC money at girl1's school, or what color goes with mauve pants, or what to put on a pizza.

I LIKE knowing The Way Things Should Be. Part of me YEARNS for the solid comfort of being absolutely sure I'm working towards the right goal.

People like Ghandi and Mother Teresa and Nikola Tesla seemed to know The Way Things Should Be, and without people like that we'd be a much poorer world. (we won't mention the dark side of that coin; Hitler and Stalin and Pol Pot and such)

But really, folks, there is no monolithic good. There's only us flailing around down here in the mud trying our best, with no guarantee that the path we choose is the best path, or that there even is a best path.

More than anything being a parent has taught me this.

And if more people would tolerate ambiguity, would approach situations with the attitude of

a) I believe X, but I can see how you believe Y and as long as you don't try to Y me we can work side by side here

and

b) I see you believe X, but maybe I need to communicate with you about Y so you can understand why I'm not doing it your way and you're probably not going to convince me X is better, so let's just compromise for this particular moment

we would get much more done. Without being so judgemental of ourselves and others.

And yes, this little tirade was brought on by me being on the sidelines as two people in my circle of acquaintances got upset with eachother because they both knew The Way Things Should Be but couldn't articulate those visions to each other enough to stop irritating each other.

How's that for ambiguity!

A Whole Hand for Girl2

Wed, 27 May 09 07:50:00 UT

My baby's 5 years old today.

And the things I want to remember about her is how she picks up little snippets of sayings from tv or friends, and then trots them out in other contexts to make people laugh.

She does it on purpose.

Her whole way of dealing with the world, either when playing with friends or diffusing an angry mommy, is to be funny. I'm afraid she's going to be kind of a class clown.

And she's still got that gemini thing going; she was the only girl invited to a "boys night" playdate recently because when the mommy reminded her son that girl2 couldn't come, the son replied "oh, girl2 is okay."

And yet she loves to dress up in Princess dresses and do tea parties. That's the birthday she's having today; a tea party birthday with all girls (she was adamant about all girls).

I think she's realizing now some of the boy/girl differences. I've seen her parrot older girls' talk about "this boy likes me" or "such-and-such is my boyfriend", but it's only recently on the playground that I've seen her start to act in those social ways girls act sometimes to define themselves as "girl" and to look down on the boys as "other."

Girl2 is a snuggle bunny, she still wants to be touching people all the time, and she's happiest sitting on someone or very close to them.

Girl2 is a leader in her ballet class, she's the loudest at Kohitsuji when they present a song, and she can play two-handed piano.

She also has warts, delights in doing actions that drive girl1 crazy, and takes TEN MILLION YEARS to do something simple like put on her clothes in the morning.

She asked for crepes with chocolate for breakfast and pizza for dinner tonight. But she still eats broccoli or asparagus or carrots at the drop of a hat (as long as there's ranch dressing).

I love her very much and I can't wait to see what the next year will bring.

Happy Birthday, Girl2.

Why You Wish You Were Me Right Now

Thu, 21 May 09 12:52:00 UT

Because I'm looking through my window at the gorgeous Portland sunshine at my purple and red blooming rhododendrons while eating just-from-the-oven whole wheat brown sugar snickerdoodles (try this recipe but substitute whole wheat, butter, and brown sugar instead of regular flour, shortening, and white sugar) and drinking a foamy latte made on my Mukka Express.

And no children for at least another 15 minutes.

Sighs. Wipes milk-foam moustache from upper lip. Nibbles last bite of cinnamonny snickerdoodle goodness.

Yeah, who's your momma!?

Home of My Heart for Who I am Now

Wed, 20 May 09 17:08:00 UT

We're coming up to almost the longest I've lived anywhere since I started college back in 1990. That's been almost 17 years moving my books/clothes/bed every few years or so, with one notably longish sojourn in the Bay Area. (almost 3 and half years).

And as the season turns to spring, and various stresses related to the end of school and other things presses in on me; it occurs to me that I have sympathy for people who leave; who abandon their lives; who start anew.

It's so very seductive to think about how you can start afresh in another city, in another place, without having to give yourself headaches with figuring out life in a place where you are caught in a web of history with friends, neighbors, and family.

And I did that. Not purposefully, of course, but not totally unconsciously either. I moved every few years, left friendships and commitments behind.

However, now we've been in Beaverton for almost 4 years. And I catch myself thinking "how wonderful it would be not to have the pressure to be a sunday school teacher again next year, or to say no to being on the PTC board, or not have to worry about long term relationships between my children and the children of my mommy friends."

But I don't mean it. Really, I don't. Because no matter how stressful it becomes, or how much I wish I could hide from the world and my responsibilities sometimes, Beaverton is home in a way I haven't known for a long, long time.

Beaverton is home in a way that fills my heart, gives me comfort, and centers who I am. And while my first "home" will always be Cleveland Heights and the friends I had in high school, Beaverton is the home of my heart for who I am now.

And I am grateful I don't have to pack up my house and say goodbye to friends, and figure out where the nearest Target is in an unfamiliar city in the next few months.

Who knows what the future may bring me or anyone in these troubled times.

But for now, I am content to stay.

Backyard Bird Behavior supports Women Make the World Go Round

Mon, 18 May 09 16:56:00 UT

A bird couple has taken up residence in our backyard.

She spent a week building a beautiful nest right under the slide; getting dried grass, shaping it into a beautiful, softer than I thought possible place to deposit her two eggs. She is most often found in the next, keeping them warm.

He, on the other hand, has spent large parts of the day (including early morning ,oy veh) attacking our window.

Now to the best of my knowledge, I am guessing its because he sees a reflection of a male bird and figures he ought to attack it.

It was kind of cute the first day, but by the second day, wherein he spent large parts of the day flying into our window with a tapping/knocking sound over and over and over and over again, I can't help but think that this bird is pretty stupid.

I hung up a mask girl1 made in an attempt to scare if off; no dice. No dice on the handkerchief, either, apparently the small slice of window still is reflecting enough to make this bird angry.

I couldn't help drawing paralells between certain fathers in my acquaintance and this bird.

While the mom makes the nest, lays the eggs, and keeps them warm, he's flying over and over and over again at his own reflection.

Yep, sure does support my theory that women make the world go round.

Stand For Children- Send an epostcard for Oregon schools

Thu, 14 May 09 05:21:00 UT

This postcard campaign is a crucial part of our efforts to protect Oregon's kids and schools by enacting reasonable increases to taxes on profitable corporations and the wealthiest Oregonians and reducing tax loopholes.

Getting your neighbors, family and friends to sign postcards helps deliver our message to the Legislature.

Send an email to your friends and family today asking them to visit www.stand.org/or/postcard and send their legislators a message today!

Our goal is to deliver thousands of these postcards to legislators - thank you for helping make it happen.

Standing with you,

Holly, Sarah, Dana, and everyone at Oregon Stand for Children

Oughta be a woman

Sun, 10 May 09 12:11:00 UT

Oughta be a woman

Washing the floors to send you to college
Staying at home so you can feel safe
What do you think is the soul of her knowledge
What do you think that makes her feel safe

Biting her lips and lowering her eyes
To make sure thereâs food on the table
What do you think would be her surprise
If the world was as willing as sheâs able

Hugging herself in an old kitchen chair
She listens to your hurt and you rage
What do you think she knows of despair
What is the aching of age

The fathers, the children, the brothers
Turn to her and everybody white turns to her
What about her turning around
Alone in the everyday light

There ought to be a woman can break
Down, sit down, break down, sit down
Like everybody else call it quits on mondays
Blues on Tuesdays, sleep until Sunday
Down, sit down, break down, sit down

A way outta no way is flesh outta flesh
Courage that cries out at night
A way outta no way is flesh outta flesh
Bravery kept outta sight
A way outta no way is too much to ask
Too much of a task for any one woman

Lyrics: June Jordan
Music: Bernice Johnson Reagon

If you'd like to hear Sweet Honey in the Rock sing it themselves, try this page.

Buff Baritone, anyone?

Fri, 8 May 09 10:44:00 UT

Just to make up for my un-postingness in April, here's another post for your delight; an audio and visual feast snatched from the Smart Bitches website.

I offer, for your pleasure: Dmitry Hvorostovsky, a Russian Baritone who is not your average opera-singer physique. Le Sigh.

Anyway, hear him sing Ombra mai fu a beautiful piece by Handel in which he shows off the dark, rich chocolateness of his voice.

Or, try Kak molody my byli for pensive Russian song moodiness.

Or, for those of you with slightly kinkier tastes, try a video of him in all his Romanticized gothick fantasy glory singing a French love song here.

A Fine Balance

Fri, 8 May 09 07:57:00 UT

Ever feel like a tightrope walker in a video game, having to keep your balance while dodging low-flying airplanes and sudden gusts of wind?

Yeah, April was like that for me.

I have yet to figure out in a consistent way the perfect ratio of social commitments to personal time to family time that works best for me.

I can't just stay home, it drives myself and my children crazy, but I can't have constant playdates either. I come home all frazzled.

I wonder if there's a magic equation somewhere that can explain it all. Unfortunately I'm convinced that such an equation, taking into account my own personality, the kind of friendships I have, the relative amounts of demand placed on me by volunteering and my part time job, as well as the needs of my children, husband, and mother, would be so complicated that it would cover a double-sided blackboard.

Luckily, a two week work hiatus provided me enough breathing room to get the emotional space I needed to start writing novel 3 and querying novel 2.

It feels nice to be back in writerly space.

Book Review: Graceling by Kristin Cashore

Sun, 19 Apr 09 13:34:00 UT

I am not qualified to review this book.

Why, do you ask, would I then title this entry "book review?"

Well, you see, I started this book and fell in love with both the main characters. I love them so much, it's impossible for me to tell if the writing is good or bad. I don't care when both main characters put their heads in their hands all the time, or suspend my disbelief that someone could hide the fact that they mind read from their own family.

These things don't matter because Katsa, the girl who could kill with her bare hands from age eight and now is desperately trying not to be a monster, and Po, who has hidden himself his whole life and wants nothing more than acceptance for who he truly is, are wonderful, fallible, believable, and confused.

So while on the outside, this book is a adventure fantasy with a girl trying to stop an evil king from hurting small animals and children (no, don't laugh, that's a true major plot point) really the heart of the book is people struggling to know how they can fit in the world without losing themselves; to kingly authority, to lovers, and to their work.

It's about belonging to oneself.

And so in the end, the author pulls off a Happily Ever After wherein the heroine does not get "tamed" by the more worldly and wise alpha hero, but ends up getting him to agree to a relationship where they support eachother without marriage or other societal bonds.

Excellent, excellent book. And now I have to wait for the prequel, Fire.

Book Recommendations for my moms

Fri, 10 Apr 09 00:00:00 UT

I recently read two books from series you guys (meaning my mom and stepmom) might like (if you haven't read them already)

1. Mistress of the Art of Death
About a medieval, Italian female doctor summoned by King Henry to investigate serial murders blamed on Jews. Really cool period details.

2. In the Bleak Midwinter
An ex-army Episcopalian Priest (female) who investigates a murder and baby-abandonment in a small, new england town with the help of the sheriff.

Both a have a light romance woven in them, but are mostly mysteries. I recommend them because the two female main characters are really cool.

new writer to watch....

Thu, 9 Apr 09 18:40:00 UT

....is me apparently.

At least according to Jason Sanford of the short-story review 'zine The Fix, that is.

He reviewed four stories at Strange Horizons, including mine "Sometimes We Arrive Home.".

While I was pleased by the actual review he gave, it did amuse me to grouped with new writers. According to him, I'm still very much at the start of my career.

Guess I better get back to writing, then. I've got a long way to go.

What zombies can tell you about addiction

Mon, 30 Mar 09 15:34:00 UT

So check out Turning the Apples , a short story up at Strange Horizons by Tina.

You think it's a straight forward story about a boy dealing with some kind of future-drug addiction on a strange planet.

And Tina's ability to use dialect/slang to draw you into a story and make you feel the characters are real is in full force here.

However, it's not that simple. You see, it turns out that the story isn't about the boy's addiction and what he will or will not do in the grip of addiction. It turns out, at least as I read it, that it's also about selling people. What it might mean to compare people selling themselves for sex with those selling their skills to enslave other people.

It's about wanting your mommy, wanting that familiar connection, even when you know it's too late.

Some of the back and forth between memory and present in the beginning made it a little slow for me in the first third, but the ending was very powerful, and worth keeping track of who all the characters and what they each wanted from the boy.

Go read it, and then think about where you might draw the line.