Productivity!

I applied to a job and sent out a query letter all before 3pm! Hooray! I'm not usually this productive this early in the day.

Dear Virus,

What was it about my throat that was so homey to you. Why did you pick right before my vacation to infect me. Couldn't we work something out next time? How about you infect me when there's something unpleasant I want to get out of. I promise I'd fight you less then. As it is, I shall have to douse you with salt water and tea.

Last Wish Part 4

Last Wish Part 1
Last Wish Part 2
Last Wish Part 3

Tory told himself it wasn't breaking in if he had a key. Still, he winced at the squeak of the apartment's door hinges and glanced surreptitiously down the hall for any signs of movement from the other apartments. He knew Jodi would be at work at this time of day, but he was still nervous of what he'd encounter inside. Perhaps she had the day off for some reason or had called in sick.

The apartment was dark, and the only movement was Annabelle the cat jumping off the end table and scurrying into the next room as her collar bell jangled. Tory suddenly had a strange overwhelming sense of warmth towards that cat. It had never yelled at him, or worse, given him a cold look of disappointment (well, no more than any other cat). No, the only memories he had of the cat was waking up to it purring in his face or kneading his scrotum for a bed. He was always unclear why the cat liked his balls so much.

Tory closed the door softly behind him and flicked on the light. Jodi's apartment was always messy but not dirty. He was never sure how she cleaned the dirt without cleaning the clutter, but somehow she did. Tory picked up some clothes laying around, hoping to see his lucky boxers. Then he spotted the suitcase he'd put them in which was still half full and shoved in a corner.

At first he tried to search it without leaving any trace. But finally he ended up dumping all the contents on the ground and rummaging through them. He was sure it was there! Would Jodi already have thrown them away? But why bother to do that when it still had an empty water bottle and sandwich wrapper? Of course, he supposed Jodi had no personal vendetta against the water or the sandwich so reminders would not be as troublesome.

The thought that she had dumped him and needed to make extra sure to get rid of reminders made him grind his teeth. But finally Tory just sat against the wall and covered his face. Why was he doing this? Why did this even matter?

Behind his eyelids he saw father's ashen face from when he had visited last time and Tory pried his eyes open again to see Jodi's messy apartment. He just sat there for a while, too afraid to close his eyes again.

What if All Your Books Belonged to Microsoft?

Or Apple. Some people might think the latter wouldn't be so bad, but my concern with e-readers is that the market will become dominated by two major companies. What if half the books you wanted to read were only published in a format that didn't work on your e-reader? Of course, they probably wouldn't do that now, but the more power the e-reader companies gain over books, what's to stop them from doing that or any number of other things, just because they can? Perhaps I'm just paranoid, but this is my concern with e-readers. I sincerely hope I'm wrong.

I'm Not Sure What's Sadder

The fact that I keep forgetting to post or the fact that no one cares. I don't expect the casual reader to care but I would expect a certain person to whom I should owe treats to care....

Anyway, I have to go to sleep early tonight to do a story time tomorrow (yay), go to a friend's house, and then go to another friend's house! Busy, busy day! This also means no post for Saturday so an early Happy Birthday to my friend Tim!

The Librarian: Film Review

Trailer:

Overview:

This is a cute movie if you just want to turn your brain off for a couple hours. My biggest qualm is that Flynn is not, in fact, a librarian. They could call him whatever they like but if we look at facts he's not one. I wasn't expecting accuracy, but I didn't even get stereotypes.

5 / 10 Stars * * * * *

Spoilers:

This movie actually should have been called The Curator. Basically, Flynn discovers he's been employed by a magical library. How is it magical? Why, it has a magical museum in the basement! That's right, a magical museum. Soooo... what actual library work does Flynn do? None. He discovers he's in charge of a magical museum, something gets stolen from the magical museum, and he goes on an adventure in the jungle to save this magical artifact.

It's true he does use a book but the important part is he translates it, still not the job description of a librarian.

Now I get someone not thinking that a librarian's work would make an interesting movie. But if you're going to have a magical library, why not have the adventure take place in the stacks? The subjects of the dewey decimal system could come to life, tigers and lions and bears could be found roaming the 590s section! Or you could seek the aid of famous people from history in the 910s! Or, better yet, a librarian could use his general knowledge to solve a mystery. A good librarian has to know a lot of really random stuff. Flynn did know a lot of things, but that's because he'd been a student for so long.

The only scene that had a hint of truth in it was the long line Flynn had to wait in for his job interview and seeing everyone running away crying. While that's still not exactly acurate as no real library interviews every possible candidate, and you don't usually get a chance to see people cry afterwards, sadly, with the current economy, that's what getting a library job feels like.

But other than that I felt I was just watching a poorly named Indiana Jones knock-off.

Headache

I have a headache either from heat or tiredness or both and I think going to bed early is a better idea than thinking of something clever to blog.

Thank Heavens for Little Girls...of All Genders

Wow. I'm forgetful.

Anyway, while watching the episode of QI I've linked above, I found out that all little children were called girls. Boys were "knave girls" and girls were "gay girls." I verified this information on the website of The University of Glasgow where it said this took place from the late 13th century to the 16th century.

Yet Another Party

I went to a party yesterday where we talked a lot; some people drank sangria; I drank virgin sangria, we played tumbling monkeys, and then a game called ultimate werewolf.

Tonight I go to a friend's birthday party.

Other than that I've just been trying to catch up on sleep.

Reasons I Have Money For Sushi

Good thing my sis isn't paying as much attention to this blog as she used to. I seem to forget to post a lot. Anyway, I've been enjoying my local sushi restaurant but when I mentioned being unemployed the owner was curious how I could afford sushi. This has been mentioned before at another sushi restaurant. I'm not really offended by the question but don't feel the actual reason is the business of a stranger. So I decided to have fun with the question. I decided to say it was because I was a ninja bank-robber. I assure anyone who does not know, this is not the case. And normally I don't lie but I make an exception for anything too absurd to be true. However, I'd like to have a different answer to this question if I ever get asked again so I'd appreciate suggestions for other equally absurd possibilities.

The Bee-Keeper's Apprentice: Book Review

Summary

This reinvisioning of Sherlock Holmes imagines a world where, upon retirement, the famed detective has become a humble country bee-keeper. It's there that he meets and partners with a highly intelligent young-woman by the name of Mary Russel. Russel teaches Holmes to respect a woman in a way he never has before while Holmes fills the void left by Russel's lost family. Together they solve cases, encounter old friends, and face new enemies.

Overview

I was skeptical about the Author's note. I'm not a huge fan of pretending the story was written by someone else. But once I got into the book itself, I liked the characters and the relationship between Russel and Holmes. I enjoyed the language but only one case involving a kidnapping made me feel any desire to read faster. I didn't care for the overall mystery, which is rather important in a mystery book. But it was enjoyable so my ranking puts it on level with other books that have made me happy.

8/10 stars * * * * * * * *

Spoilers (Highlight to read)

I didn't like having Moiarty's daughter be the villain. It wouldn't have been so bad if there'd been clues other than the person mentioning Moiarty. Because the original Moiarty didn't have a family, so it felt pulled out of nowhere. I was hoping it would be Irene Adler, or at least someone they'd mentioned previously.

Argh

Had some stuff to deal with and forgot to post. But I will try not to make this a habit.

Ugh, No Sleep....

For the past few days I haven't been able to get more than four hours of sleep per night.

Governor's Mansions

Today I went to two governor's mansions today, yet the actual governor of our state lives in a one bedroom apartment over a PF Changs.

Above is a picture of the first mansion we visited where most the governors lived until they decided not to house the governor there anymore. I think Reagan was the last governor to live there.

Then we went to the mansion of Leland Standford, founder of Stanford University. It struck me visiting both these mansions that while once California was considered the Wild West, full of more land than anywhere else, now these Mansions have yards that are smaller than those of an average Midwesten home.

Last Wish Part # 3

Below are the links to the two previous parts
Last Wish #1
Last Wish #2

* * * * *

Brenda wasn't picking up. Stupid babies and their stupid neediness. Tory realized that he was being needy, but at least he didn't need to suck on Brenda's boob every other hour. Anymore.

Tory sighed, and stretched his arms up to hang off the doorframe as he thought. He was aware it was probably pretty arrogant, but he admired his own arm muscles. Mostly he was just slim and healthy, not too thin and not fat. He didn't work out, but he guessed lifting heavy canvases and balancing bulky easels built his biceps. Girls gave him a lot of compliments on his arms.

Tory did a few pull-ups. It was also probably arrogant to think of himself as good-looking, but he knew he was. Maybe not as good-looking as Jodi's new boyfriend, but he knew he was above average. He was proud of his looks and wasn't complaining. Still, Tory had a sinking feeling he'd gotten as far as good-looks could take him in life, and they hadn't been able to offer him anything substantial: not love, not career--nothing.

Letting go of the doorframe, Tory decided it was lucky underpants time. He needed something good to happen. Sure, it was silly, but Tory had developed a superstition that most good things that happened to him, happened when he wore a particular pair of teal boxer shorts: getting into his first choice school, selling his first painting, the sorority strip poker night... He held onto that last image with a smile as he went into the bedroom to root through the lonely dresser--it seemed strange in the almost empty room. The dresser was technically Jodi's but filled with his stuff, and she'd never liked it, which explained why she'd leave it. The small desk with the computer was his. But that was it. She'd even taken the bed, leaving behind only a few marks in the carpet. He guessed he'd have to get an air mattress.

Tory riffled through the drawer. No teal boxers. He checked the dirty clothes. No teal boxers. He checked the other drawers. No teal boxers. In a fit of panic, he even checked under the bed that wasn't there.

Tory finally sat down in the empty rectangle where the bed had been, heart-racing, a sick feeling in his stomach. He remembered where his boxers were. He and Jodi had a weekend getaway to San Francisco, a last ditch effort to save the relationship. When they'd been packing, Tory had found his boxers on the floor at the last minute, and Jodi's bag had been closer.

Tory considered calling Jodi, but that was a big steaming cesspool of blood-sucking worms to open over such a little thing.

Still, he wanted them back.

The teal boxers had also been what he'd been wearing when he met Jodi. This, of course, suggested they weren't really lucky at all, but Tory wasn't willing to see it that way. He'd lost two years to her, he wasn't about to lose his boxers to her! Plus, he didn't like to think what she could be doing to them. Voodoo? Could she right now be drawing his face on the crotch and holding it over an open flame? Tory shook his head. Most probably she'd just throw them away--like she threw him away. He thought he preferred voodoo.

Tory took out his phone to search for an understanding mutual friend he could call and noticed he had a voicemail from his mother. He dialed in and listened. It was short: "Dad had a bad day."

Tory put the phone down and wished the boxers were his biggest problem. The boxers were fixable.

He knew he should phone his mother back, or a friend, or at least go out and buy a bed. But suddenly he didn't have the energy. Instead he lay down on the carpet in the empty rectangle of an absent bed and turned his face to the wall. The cool blank white was comforting and confining all at the same time. It was too late in the day to catch transit out to see his parents, and he didn't have a car or the money for a taxi. Mom couldn't leave the house to drive, and Brenda would already be asleep. If it was an emergency, mom would have said, and he would wake Brenda. But this wasn't an emergency. It wasn't anything to inspire activity. It was just purgatory while he waited for the elevator down.

In Awe

I'm in awe of this amazing CGI. I look forward to the day the actual gameplay of a video game looks like this.

Writing Stats

I did some editing in my fantasy novel today.

Last time I had 203,308 words.

Now I have 202,818 words.

This means I've only gotten rid of 490 words since lase time but I take heart that I only have six more chapters of editing to do.

Infobit -- The Name Fuller

I've been listening to yet another middle ages documentary where I've learned if your last name is Fuller, your ancestors probably had something to do with the wool trade and very likely got the delight of tromping on wool in stale urine. I've known some Fullers but can't immediately recall who... Otherwise, I'd delight them with this fact.

My source is from a documentary called The Worst Jobs in History: The Middle Ages. You can watch the particular segment below:

Sushi

I am quickly writing this post as I got to talking to the owner of a local sushi restaurant, his friend, and a couple of his customers until quite late. I was also plied with saki, which I refused and got the sense I was to him what vegetarians are to French chefs--bizarre creatures who need to join the real world. I didn't mind really as I still found the company good. I have to wonder if they would have been as insistent if I'd lied and said it was my religion not to drink. As I get older it seems I encounter more and more incredulity from people over my decision not to drink.

The Red Queen: Book Review

Summary:

Margaret Beaufort has grown up with the certainty that she has been chosen to do God's will. Since she is denied her true desire to join a convent, Margaret decides that God must want her to put her son Henry on the throne. Although, always denying vanity and insisting she does only God's work, Margaret is vain, jealous, and self-serving--always longing for the day when people will have to call her, My Lady, the King's Mother and when she will sign her name: Margaret R--for Margaret Regina--Margaret the Queen.

Overview:

I really enjoyed this book. The political machinations of pre-Tudor England are delightfully complex and yet relatable as described by the plotters themselves. Even though the main character was strongly unlikeable, you can completely understand how her mind works. Plus, she was never unlikeable in the "Ugh, I can't stand to read about this person" way but more in the "Ha, ha, something bad just happened to her, let's see how she weasels out of this" way. Gregory has a talent for making even unlikeable characters interesting. All of the other characters have their own agendas that you understand completely from how the author paints their personalities, and they are as rich and vibrant on the page as if they had stepped directly out of history. I know that Gregory embellishes, exaggerates, and sometimes downright changes things (though nothing big that I've noticed). But it is fiction and there's only so much we can know about these people. Gregory's tales are compelling enough wonder how much is true,and to wish or hope that some of it is true because by the end I always feel like I know these people.

However, I should note this is not a book if you're looking for a romance like those of The Other Bolyen girl or The White Queen. But I wasn't for once, so it was the perfect time for me to read this. Margaret does love, but she doesn't have time for it and love stays firmly in the background in this book.

8 / 10 stars * * * * * * * *

Spoilers:

I loved the portrayals of Margaret's husbands. They were all so distinct. I completely understood why a pious 13-year-old would be disgusted by the chore of begetting Edmund Tudor's heir. My heart broke for the gentle Sir Henry Stafford who wanted nothing more but to be left out of the war while his kindness and affection for Margaret was only rewarded with her scorning his practicality. At the same time, I also I loved the cunning duplicity and amorality of Thomas Stanley.

I thought the end was very well done. Even though I didn't like Margaret at all, I was glad that she finally got to sign her name, Margaret R. Perhaps going on the journey with her made me feel as if I too got to sign my name as queen. Or perhaps it's just a respect for someone so ambitious even if I don't like them.