Wildcard Wednesday
Factoid

Bounty hunters are only legal in the US and the Philippines.

Wildcard Wednesday
Photos!

Okay, sorry my Last Wish story got derailed again. I didn't have time to finish the section because I was too bust thrifting with friends. I'm sure you're all disappointed. But look, I got these awesome red leather boots! But other than a Mord-Sith costume, I can't think what to do with them... Bonus points if you know what a Mord-Sith is. Hint: It is NOT from Star Wars.

Wildcard Wednesday
Music Review

I don't generally feel strongly about music. I either like it or I don't, but something about internet artists inspires me to have an opinion. Perhaps it's because it's not a giant, focus-group run, corporation trying to crank out the next hit. It's actually just people doing what they like and hoping you'll like it too.

So that might be why I've been enjoying Charlie McDonnell's new album: This is Me, which you can listen to for free at: http://charliemcdonnell.com/music/

Charlie is known on YouTube as charlieissocoollike and I enjoyed his videos but never paid much attention to his music. But that's just because I didn't listen to it, until now. My favorite one is A Song About Love. I love how unpretentious it is, how unlike all the teenybopper stars out there, Charlie acknowledges that he's too young to talk about this with any expertise. The line about wanting to refine the person he wants to be before he worries about love is fantastic. I wish there was more of this type of thing in the general media. For similar reasons I loved Chemical Love as well.

The album's title song This is Me, is also great song both musically and lyrically. It follows the same youthfully wise vein of my other favorites. Same goes for Melody for Melody.

The song Bread has a great melody, and an animated music video, but I found the overall story so depressing that it can't be my favorite. But it's apparently John Green's favorite. I guess In the Absence of Christmas is also dark but I find that one funny and awesome.

Wildcard Wednesday
Quotes and Comments

"Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society."
--Mark Twain

Clearly this was before the time of the Abercrombie and Finch model.

Wildcard Wednesday
Moody Thoughts

The heart breaks when you lose a friend, but it's rare to have friends you don't eventually lose. If you're reading this, there's a good chance you're a friend, and I haven't lost you yet. So thank you. A big thanks even to those who will never see this. On the surface, it's a depressing thought. And, I guess, it is under the surface as well. But, in other ways, it's good that people can grow and change, even if it means growing apart. Sometimes friends are forever, and sometimes they're the person you need at that time. I don't think one is necessarily better than the other. We're trained to feel betrayed if someone leaves us, but what if we left them first? What if we changed so much or they changed so much that you're both just too different? Should that negate all the kindnesses they've done you in the past? I don't think so. I think there's something to be said for knowing when you've got nothing more to give. Having a friend grow apart from you is always a loss, but accepting that it's natural can give you solace. As long as we still have great people in our lives, we should rejoice and count ourselves lucky. I know I have (and have had) great people in mine.

Wildcard Wednesday
Dream Journal

I had a bunch of dreams when I fell asleep today but the only one I can remember is one where I was in my bed and these big dark storm clouds came rushing at my window. I shouted that it was a tornado but no one would believe me. I held my breath and waited for the glass to burst as the cloud reached the window but, nothing happened.

This dream may have something to do with the fact that I had taken a nap and it was dark when I woke up.

Wildcard Wednesday
Blog Buddies -- First Impressions

I thought it might be fun to call out the people I know read my blog at least from time to time. But if I don't mention you and you'd like me to, leave a comment. Anyway, the following are the all who I know have read because they've commented enough times for me to remember or you have told me you read my blog. Your names (in alphabetical order) are followed by either how I first met you or my first memory/story of you. But if you have a different one, I'd be fascinated to hear it!

Amber: I met Amber on a student bus at the University of Michigan since we both lived in the Northwoods. I think I may have been reading something with Neil Gaiman's name on it and she recognized the author. And talking about books is probably the quickest way to become my friend. I happened to see her a lot since we seemed to have similar schedules so after a while we just decided to hang out somewhere other the bus.

Brian: I was visiting Gilpatrick house for reasons I can't recall but may have had to do with my then fencing buddy (I think her name was Erin?). Brian was living there at the time. He had a beard. I have found over the years that the beard comes and goes but I believe it is always there--lurking below the surface. I remember he also had a dragon puppet. I tried to abscond with said dragon puppet. I was foiled. But somehow he still thought it wise to invite me to live in Gilpatrick House a year or two later. Perhaps he'd forgotten I was an inveterate dragon abductor?

Becky: Saw her many times while I was living in Gilpatrick. Often reading in the lounge. Took me several weeks if not months to realize she and Brian were siblings. I remember it clicked when I realized they both had the same last name on their doors. Becky enjoys 3D puzzles and a sort of indirect but very good first memory of her is when I first stepped into Gilpatrick after just coming back from France. I was still readjusting and feeling a bit of reverse culture shock, so I felt I was in just the right place when, on entering the lounge, a 3D puzzle of the Eiffel Tower and of Notre Dame (with a Quasimodo on top) were present.

Dejah: We met in a class in grad school but for the life of me I cannot recall which one. Clearly she was more memorable than the class. I remember we had stats together, which I dropped. Still sorry for leaving our stats group, but I don't regret dropping. Should have done it sooner.

My sister: I am told that, upon first seeing me, my sister slapped me and screamed "Take her back!" But we get on much better now, I assure you. I tried to think back if I had an oldest memory of her but there wasn't anything I could pinpoint. Far too many. She's just always been there. And I can appreciate that far more now than I could when we were screaming and pulling each other's hair as children.

Sarah: I'm fond of this story and probably told it to her too many times, but I was having a bit of a bad day and was all alone in my room in Gilpatrick when Sarah knocked on my door and asked if I was interested in scones and board games. Who wouldn't be? Sarah's one of the primary reasons I came to love Gilpatrick.

Stephen: Hmm...I honestly cannot remember. We were in middle school together but I don't think we started hanging out much until High School since I was friends with Joni and Kelly and he would eat lunch with us sometimes. Then I'd invite him to my birthday parties. Everyone remembers the pinatas! Don't know why I ever bothered to do anything else.

Thomas: I decided to join a meet-up group to make some local friends. The first meet-up I attended was at a sushi restaurant. My sister and I arrived early but ended up sitting different places at the table. I was more toward the center whereas she was at the end. He arrived late and sat at the end of the table by my sister and I noticed they talked a lot about computers. I don't think I said more than a few words to him that night, if any.

Tim: At lunch with my middle school writing team, two people entered the room at the same time. A dark-haired girl and a painfully blond haired boy--like eye-wateringly bright blond hair. One of them was introduced as Zelish. I thought it was the boy and assumed he was foreign. He sat next to me and said "Hey, wanna see something cool?" Then he partially blew up his plastic Ziploc bag, put a raisin on it, and slammed down his hand and the raisin went flying. He laughed hysterically, clearly pleased. I wondered if maybe he was a bit "special." I also actually wondered if he was hitting on me which was rare for my middle school self because I had extremely low self-esteem. I decided if he was hitting on me, I wanted him to stop. He insists he doesn't remember any of this. Three years later, we were dating.

Wildcard Wednesday
Dream Journal Encore

I should have written down my dream earlier because I've forgotten the details already. I recall something about porkpies but not how they were related. I remember there was a point in my dream where I considered putting on my RenFaire costume, but I don't think I did, and I was being chased down by someone in a sort of toy race car. I think.

Wildcard Wednesday
Driver's License

I passed! Apparently third time's the charm. Hooray! My examiner was very good but he was so laid back that I wasn't really sure I had passed because he didn't say anything one way or the other while I was driving. Also when we pulled in he told me what I should watch out for in the future so I thought I must have failed but then he said I passed. Yay! And with only 4 things marked on the sheet.

Wildcard Wednesday
Video Clip

I haven't made a YouTube video in over half a year due to a variety of factors but one of them is definitely because I've yet to learn how to edit videos on my new computer. But this is a silly little unedited clip that I made ages ago and always meant to put in a larger video but didn't. I feel under pressure to post more elaborate videos but I think I'll take a page out of my sister's book. She believes in improvement in small increments whereas I too often take the all or nothing approach and end up with nothing.

Wildcard Wednesday

Recipe

Anyone who knows me, knows I hate cooking and generally live off a diet of frozen foods, restaurant food, and other people's food. But I still get a craving for real food from time to time, and I was rather proud of the snack I just created. I wanted some cheese and I wanted something crunchy but didn't feel like crackers because after my fast food lunch, I've probably reached my sodium quota for the week. As a result, the snack seems like it'd be healthy, but more important to me, was it was tasty. Despite sounding like something Ned Flanders would feed his children. So here it is:

Cucumber Crackers and Apple Smoked Gruyère Cheese

Different kinds of cheeses might work, but I can only vouch for the tastiness of the gruyère. Besides, it'll make you feel fancier than cheddar.

Ingredients:

Cucumber

Apple Smoked Gruyère Cheese

Instructions:

1. Slice cucumber into cracker-shaped slices. I cut mine into squares but circles, triangles, or dinosaur shapes would probably taste the same. Just so long as it's flat and you can put cheese on top.

2. Slice cheese.

3. Put cheese on top of cucumber slices.

4. Take a picture, because I forgot to and it be cool to have one.

5. Eat

Wildcard Wednesday
Character Vignette

Tory opened the refrigerator and there was no Nutella. A very distinct absence of Nutella. He looked over on the counter and the Nutella was there with the sign he had made: PLEASE DO NOT REFRIGERATE ME! I AM LE FRENCH! There was a little French flag on a toothpick taped to the side. He had been particularly proud of the flag. But Jodi wasn't here anymore to forget and put the Nutella in the fridge. He reached out to take the sign off, but then he stopped, left it, and closed the fridge.

The great Nutella fight of 2010 was the last fight he had with Jodi. It had been preceded by the You-Never-Do-Anything-Spontaneous fight. But worse than the fights had been telling her he loved her when he didn't mean it. Tory wasn't sure he loved anyone, really. At least, not romantically. What if he couldn't? What if he was broken? Maybe he had sold his soul to Satan and didn't remember. If he had, he wished he'd gotten a better deal.

Of course, maybe the worst part was Jodi leaving him for the hot male model in their art class. It was rough knowing the exact size of her new boyfriend. Stupid nude model with a rippling six-pack.

Tory sighed, but if he was being really honest, he wasn't heartbroken because Jodi didn't want him. He was just humiliated that she'd found someone so much better.

More than anything, Tory wanted to want someone. Maybe that was why he always messed it up.

Buzz! Tory jumped when his butt vibrated and fished his phone out of his pocket. "Feeling sorry for yourself?"

"Hello, Brenda."

"If I know you, you're thinking of seducing some poor girl just to make yourself feel like someone wants you."

Tory made himself comfortable on the floor. Jodi had taken all the chairs. He had forgotten he didn't really own any of the furniture. "I hardly think asking the cute barista at the coffee shop if she'd like to get a coffee counts as seduction."

"My God. Did that work?"

"She laughed."

"Pity laugh?"

"Maybe. But she gave me her number."

"Tory, I forbid you."

"Someone's possessive. Are you offering instead?"

"Sorry, breastfeeding. And the hubby's not into threesomes with two guys. Now, if you got a sex change..."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

"You do that. Hang in there, babe."

After Tory hung up the phone he switched to the contacts where he had put the barista's number. Should he?

Wildcard Wednesday
RE: Standardized Tests

The following is a reply to Boris's blog post on Standardized tests. Click on the underlined text to read it. I also highly recommend the rest of his blog; he's an excellent writer. I confess not every post is my cup of tea, but the ones on subjects that interest me are all very good, and he writes on a wide variety of subjects, so there should be something for everyone.

Okay, now for my reply:

I confess that my bias goes the other way since I have always hated tests. But this is because of my inefficient study habits and severe test anxiety. I will grant you that they're not stupid. I have sometimes been very tempted to believe that, since it would make me feel a lot better, but it is true that it couldn't possibly hurt someone to be good at the things being tested. That person would have some pretty valuable skills.

However, I think your first argument is weak because having a lot of people believe that tests are important does not make it true. A lot of people used to believe that the sun revolved around the Earth. Their belief didn't make it true.

Also, while I won't disagree that test scores help a lot of students get into school, I am very lucky to be the exception to this rule. My SAT scores were lower than the average that my undergrad generally accepted, and my GRE scores were lower than my SAT scores and I got a full tuition merit scholarship. I couldn't tell you what made them decide to ignore my test scores, but I wouldn't have the education I do today if they hadn't.

My main issues with standardized tests is that they're too...well...standard, and they don't test you under the conditions you would actually work with in real life. Now, if someone's yet to decide what they want to do with their life, then the first issue isn't really a problem. You need a really general gauge of skills if you're the type of person who might go from being a biologist to an English professor. A test might actually help you decide which one of those fields you're best suited to do. However, a lot of people have at least already narrowed down a particular skill set by the time they take the standardized test. They may not know exactly what they'll do with the rest of their life, but they generally fall into one of two categories: arts or sciences. Does this mean they don't have to know any of the other? Of course, not. But they won't need to know nearly as much as what is tested. For example, would an English professor be a better, more rounded person if he could ace the math section of the SAT? Sure. Does he need that for his job? Usually not. Yes, he should be able to calculate averages for grades and know enough basic arithmetic to not seem a complete fool, but he will not need to calculate the cords of a circle. Alternately, would an engineer be a better person if he could spell the word engineer? Yes. Does he need to for his job? Oftentimes, sadly, not. People who choose careers based on their strengths and weaknesses should be allowed to take more targeted tests. And before you say it, I KNOW there are subject oriented SATs, but those are all in addition to the normal SAT. I say you should be able to take the subject oriented tests INSTEAD OF the standard one. The standard one could still be an option if you want to generalize, and you could always take a different subject if you wanted to switch fields. But tests would be more reasonable if they were more targeted to the individual's needs.

My second complaint is the real life conditions. True, you shouldn't have to check every little fact while you're working because that would make you too slow to be efficient. But, if you blank out on something, the majority of people at work look it up. It's actually a bad practice in many professions to rely on your wits alone. You should be able to effectively and quickly verify facts and be able to collaborate with colleagues. This is why I think standardized tests would be far more fair if you were able to look stuff up. You'd still be timed, which I will grant is perfectly fitting for real life. You always only have so much time to solve a problem, so you'd better not need to look up every one, and you'd still fail a timed test if you did. But being able to look things up and learn them quickly is just as important in real life as memorization.

I won't say there aren't situations in life that don't feel like tests and where my test anxiety doesn't crop up. But for the most part, it's not because I'm in a little room working on the exact same thing everyone else is...and what's that? Did that girl just finish...she did, she did finish before me! Okay, okay, calm down, Cherie, it doesn't mean she's smarter, she's probably just--ahh! That guy's done too! Agh, agh, agh! Okay, okay, Cherie, focus, it doesn't matter, just focus on the test. What? Only, five minutes left! Just a little taste of what goes on in my head every single time. It doesn't matter that logically I would get more done if I didn't worry about it. I know that. But it's the same as telling a severe claustrophobe that being locked in a closet won't actually hurt them. Sure, that claustrophobe could go to a psychologist and get their issues worked out. Or they could save the money and just not get locked in closets which isn't really necessary to their life anyway. The only times I've ever not experienced test anxiety is on tests where I was absolutely sure of all my answers and one time in undergrad where I was allowed to take a test in a storage closet because the light above me was flickering. It's not even a factor of how well I do on the test because I've aced tests that I have made me want to throw up while taking them. I've never wanted to ask for special consideration on tests because it's my firm belief that people don't get special consideration in life for test anxiety. But that is a large part of why I hate them.

In summary, I would never ask you how you sleep at night, Boris. I have great admiration and respect for good test takers and even more for someone who can teach how to take them. If I had been able to hire someone to coach me, I think I could have done a lot better. But I just want you to know that not everyone who hates tests or struggles with them is entirely without good reason.

Wildcard Wednesday
A Poem

I don't usually write poems. It wouldn't be fair to say this is because I don't like poems. I am just old fashioned. I admire the classic poems of Frost, Dickinson, or Blake, and some of the French surrealists who either follow the rules with resounding epic beauty or break them and forge off on their own with the elegance of a new song. Poems are a writer's love letter to the musicality of words.

The problem is I'm poetically tone deaf.

I often feel that rhythm, meter, and poetic forms are better left untainted by me. That's okay because I've found my home in prose where I can still appreciate language in my own way. But I have been forced to write poems before and here is one result that wasn't a complete and utter loss in my opinion. It reminds me a little of Shel Silverstien's work. The poem's inspired by all the time I spent as a child finding pictures in the tile or wood floors of my house.

Linoleum Dreams

Fingers trace the strings of beads

surfacing from the linoleum dreams

pictures of daisies and bright butter folds

of coffee and hair bits and apricot holds

the attention of one little girl on this day

rapt sailing soldiers in the thickening haze

rat a tat tat where the dancing man’s found

of wavy brown lines and a-tipping his crown

to the silver-haired duchess encased in brocade

as her servants below her serve pink lemonade

outside the people who live in the pine

tap on the window in keeping their time

hair of green needles and fingers of thatch

move in a serenade rhythm to match

What

are you doing,

little girl dear of mine?

You need to be moving,

not wasting your time

Come with me and we’ll read

many tales that we’ve read

and then,

wash your hands

before going to bed.

Wildcard Wednesday
Prose Practice

So this was a blog segment that was left on the cutting room floor so I thought I might do it for Wildcard Wednesday. This is just a brief practice of fiction writing. It's not meant to be a story, just a scene or description to get me thinking about writing. The following is inspired by the cat I saw messing with a vole outside my window.

* * * * *

Aaah! Teeth! I tried to scamper deeper into the bushes but ran into a brick wall. The cat with the bell on his collar watched hungrily, maybe jealously as the black furred monster clawed at the dirt and CHOMP!

I wriggled but that only made him dig in his teeth harder so I went limp. He carried me away holding his stubby black tail high. That tail always bothered me when I'd run away from him before. Had he lost it to a larger cat? I imagined him held in the jaw of a bestial feline exactly like he was holding me now and shivered.

The bell cat followed but my captor didn't believe in sharing. He did, however, believe in playing with his food. He dropped me from his mouth. I knew he was just messing with me but a vole's gotta try, right? I ran.

The cat's claws came at me from both sides as he batted me back and forth, his own personal cat toy. Then I saw my saviors in the form of two little human girls. The tallest sighed, "Mom's not going to be happy if he brings home another one." She chased my pursuer into the tall grass and began to poke him with a stick.

"Leave, him alone, meanie!" cried the shorter girl. I wondered if Meanie was the cat's name. It'd be fitting if it was. The distraction of the girls was all I needed. I darted back into my burrow as the cat glared after me.