Big Girl School

Once upon a time I had a plan. I was going to work hard on my language skills and go to school at the American University in Paris. I was going to major in International Business and come back to the States to work at the U.N. as an interpreter. Eventually, I'd get picked up by a multi-national corporation and spend my time jet-setting around the world. I'd live out of hotel rooms and a suitcase and never have to worry about mowing my own lawn.

So much for dreams.

Instead I had a baby and just managed to graduate, escaping from my parents house as soon as I possibly could. My first husband was unemployed, abusive and unfaithful, quickly pushing me to divorce. My second husband, while certainly a much better human being, had trouble keeping a job for very long and I found myself needing to work to support us and the baby. There never really was time to do much more then survive.

Eventually, the baby went to school and the husband got a better job. After serious consideration, I started back to school at the local community college. I'd go for a semester, then quit because of lack of money. A short-term job later and I'd go back, still trying to figure out what I was going to do when I grew up. I found out that in spite of my fondness for it, I wasn't very good at learning languages, so the interpretor thing wasn't going to work out.

Over time, thanks to an understanding husband and the ability to go to school on my lunch break, I managed to get two full years (and a little extra) of college at the small-time community college. I was given the choice and transferred to a state university nearby in order to finish up a Bachelor's degree in History with a minor in Theater. I've got several of the history-specific course already done thanks to the years of not knowing what I wanted to do and I'm going to attempt to talk the dean of the theater department into giving me credit for all the work I've already done. Being on the Board of Directors for a non-profit theater troupe will come in handy for that.

Tomorrow, I go to a real university for the first time as a student. I'm not sure I can explain how excited I am. I have always craved more knowledge, seeking out books and teachers on my own for topics that interest me. I get to start my morning with British Lit and then indulge in a History of Tudor and Stuart Britain. Yum! I've also got yet another round of French in the hope that something will stick this time, and some Biology which I have no opinion on as yet. I've taken bio from some very good teachers and done well, some very bad ones and done poorly. I hope this is one of the good ones. I'm going to work as hard as I can to make sure this semester is as perfect as possible.

While I'm not looking forward to getting up at 5:45am for my hour long bus ride every morning, I'm excited about everything else. I hope I'll have some wonderful new books to talk to you about soon.

Dust Buffalo

Please excuse the lack of update, I've been directing a stampede.

You see, I have a 15 year old daughter who craves variety. She decided she wanted a change of view and asked if she could swap my craft room for her bedroom. After thinking about it some, I really didn't see why not and agreed. After all, I'm a military brat. I'm used to packing up and moving fairly often and I wanted a change of view as well so this was a cheaper way to do it.

I may have grown up always on the move but I forgot that we've lived in this same house for 10 years. 10 whole years! In one place! I've always suspected that it wasn't actually possible but the time does slip away quickly. The corollary to time passes is stuff collects and I had forgotten that important detail.

So far I've pulled 9 bags of trash out of the craft room in 2 days. I've stepped on various assorted buttons, calligraphy pens, straight pins, and odd metal doo-dads that I have no name for. I have located a giant pile of half-done craft projects ranging from paper mache to leather work to blackwork to lacemaking. I'd forgotten about the tapestry loom and I really don't remember buying that green lace or why I'd need such a thing. The bobbin lace project is hopelessly snarled and there are multiple loose patterns running around.

Many of my friends believe in the concept of keeping a bunch of materials in stock in their craft rooms. The idea is that if they have a craving to build a hat at 3am then they have all the stuff on hand and can be hatting until breakfast or they feel better, whichever comes first. I'm starting to think that for a person with hoarder-like tendencies that might not be the best idea however. I just keep picking up craft things on sale and tossing them in the room with the idea that "I'll use this sometime". The right project for that particular item never comes up though and it just gathers dust in the room. Eventually there's more wrong stuff in the room then room and I have to do my crafting elsewhere.

I come by these tendencies genetically if not honestly. My mother has always had a very bad habit of collecting more stuff in the house then she needs. Every 6 months or so she has a huge garage sale and wastes massive amounts of time and energy to make about $50. She labels everything, has a cash box, puts out ads and signs, and makes about enough money to pay for the sale. My sister hasn't ever managed to get to the actual yard sale itself. She almost lost custody of her children because she had too much stuff in her house. The memory of that tiny apartment crammed literally to the ceiling with junk still gives me nightmares. I know this could be a problem, but it's hard to remember to fight back against it.

So, I'm going to toss out lots of old junk. I'm going to go through what's left and have a crafting and book sale. I'm going to invite my crafting friends on purpose since I figure that would be the audience who wants this stuff and I'll make sure to give people plenty of lead time before-hand to save. I'll even take checks. And at the end of the day I will drive all the leftovers to Salvation Army and leave them there, because I value my sanity more then I value two hand-spans of black stretch velvet.

For now I will go back and keep cleaning the room. I've got to get the closet, spinning wheel, and antique table out, plus dig through the piles of costumes stored in there. I also need to remove the herd of dust buffalo and set them free outside to wander around and disturb the neighbors. Break out the carpet rakes!

Misfortunes will happen...

...to the best and wisest of men [Pawnee Proverb]

Every now and then you run across a book series that makes you want to go right out and buy all the other books in that series. Some times you want to go out and buy everything else that author has ever written. When I first ran across Terry Pratchett's Discworld series I fell in love. I adored the characters, I dug the dry jokes, and I was endlessly amused by the footnotes. Like Douglas Adams, Terry Pratchett is one of those tasty mental treats that comes out of England and it shows in his writing style.

For the few innocents who have no idea what I'm talking about with Discworld, I have taken the liberty of linking you to Mr. Pratchett's official website. As far as I can tell he has written a set of books where the only consistent character is the world itself. Inside the main series, he has written several mini-series' that keep the focus on one particular part of this very unusual world and set of people. Most fans tend to prefer one set of characters over another, but you really have to try them all on for size.

The newest mini-series in the Discworld universe that I've started is based around a guy with the pleasant name of Moist von Lipwig. Aside from his name, Moist is also unlucky enough to be a very good confidence man who has just been caught and is on his way to hung by the neck until dead. Removed at just past the last moment from the gallows by the ruler of the city, Lord Vetinari, Moist is given the job of resuscitating the local Post Office. He manages to pull this off with a huge bag of tricks, some left-over loot, and the help of a bunch of giant clay golems. He is ably assisted by a girlfriend nicknamed Spike, a strange cross between a Postal Workers Union and a Masonic Lodge, and the tendency of his own mouth to run away with him. Moist has to fend off a hostile semaphore monopoly trying to shut him down while still clearing out decades of undelivered mail from the Post Office building itself.The fact that he not only does it, but does it while telling people to their faces that he's a fraud makes Going Postal a really fun book to read.

When the next book in the set came up, I was very anxious to read it. In Making Money we find out that Moist is getting sort of twitchy. He's been a good honest citizen for awhile now and it's starting to wear on him. When Lord Veninari offers him a job in charge of the Royal Mint and Royal Bank he's not really eager to jump in. However, he inherits the position of Bank Manager and gets into the swing of things. And that's when this book started to fall apart for me. You see, in Going Postal, there's a certain amount of frantic mental flapping, some twists and a few surprise loop-de-loops that make a reader want to stand up and cheer. But in Making Money the same flapping occurs. There's the same kind of plot twists and you can see the loop a mile away. Even though our hero has been put into a remarkable similar position to last time, he pretty much the same things over again. The shenanigans are terribly predictable. I kept reading to see if there were some new ones, but I was disappointed.

Am I saying if you read one, don't read the other? NO!! What I saw as a predictable plot point came totally out of left field for a few of the other people I know who read Discworld. I'm a real pain in the butt when it comes to guessing the murderer during the first 15 min. of the film and figuring out my birthday presents too, so please don't go on only my experience. However, if you're just getting into Discworld, save one of them to be read after you've looked at a few other things. I find that I like Making Money quite a bit more if I don't read Going Postal just before hand. Try Small Gods or Equal Rites or any of the other equally wonderful books.

I do hope you pick up and read some Terry Pratchett this summer. He writes excellent books to take on trips unless, like me, you're the sort who likes to snicker and snort out loud at your reading material. In that case save it for someplace private, because you will be laughing a lot at these books.

Pratchett, Terry. Going Postal

HarperTorch, New York, 2004

Pratchett, Terry. Making Money

Harper, New York, 2007