Check out this interview I did with Eric Ladau of Houston's NPR station, KUHF. (Warning: It has either bad words or bleeped-out bad words in it.)
I'll be reading Growing Up with Tamales for story time at Blue Willow Bookshop, in Houston, on Thursday morning, May 15. Tell everyone you know with kids in the Houston area. How do you find and support local indie book stores like Blue Willow? By going to Booksense.
On Saturday, May 17, I'll be in Dallas, reading and signing at the J. Erik Jonsson Central Library, for the 13th Dallas Children’s Book Fair & Literary Festival.
On June 22, here in Houston, I'm going to do a poetry workshop. It's free and open to the public, y'all, and they're having one every Sunday in June, taught by local poets I love and respect. So come on down.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
LinkelodeonHere's what I've been checking out lately:
Project Runway contestant Diana Eng's blog.
Project Runway contestant Santino Rice's blog - notable for the entry comments in which an anonymous person posted Daniel/Andrae slash fic.
This Nextbook column by Shalom Auslander, who read the awesomest story on NPR the other day. Yes, I was listening to NPR on the way to Austin the weekend before last. I like to hear the little radio skits they do. Yes, I'm getting old. I know.
Stuff On My Cat. Only funny sometimes.
Cute Overload. Only cute sometimes. Or maybe I'm just a cynical hater with too-high standards for cuteness.
Salon. Not so much for its articles anymore, but for all the vehement comments on the articles since they put their "Letters to the Editor" in blog-comment format. No one is spared. Ayelet Waldman? Hated. Anne LaMott? Ridiculed. Garrison Keillor? Dismissed. It's a blood bath. I can only read it every other day now, it's so soaked in haterade. But I love it.
Labels: books, links, pop culture
8:10 AM # (2) commentsFriday, January 27, 2006
Thanks for the theft-worthy idea, Todd.Hell, yes. Forget about memes - here's an awesome new game that's all about you and me. Instructions:
Post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me. It can be anything you want -good or bad- BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE. You've got free reign. Start your sentence "Remember when you and I..."
If you know me in real life, you still have to make it up. If you're a lurker, now's your chance to say something fun, for once in your life.
Y'all make me laugh. Or cry. Or feel something other than this constant, wearying apathy. Thanks in advance to everyone who plays - I can't wait to read your replies.
Labels: meme
2:29 PM # (25) commentsThursday, January 26, 2006
I got tagged!Like a specimen in the wild. So here's my meme, for Tina.
Four Jobs I've Had in My Life:
1. Kid-watcher at summer arts program.
2. Deli clerk.
3. Assistant for Representative at Texas State Capitol.
4. Claims clerk for an insurance brokerage.
Four Movies I Could Watch Over and Over:
1. The Bird Cage
2. X-Men 2
3. Independence Day
4. Fifty First Dates
(Gwen's note: I'm not saying these are good movies, or even that they're my favorites. But, whenever these come on cable, I drop whatever I'm doing and sit down to watch.)
I Have Lived in:
1. Houston, Texas
2. Austin, Texas
3. Leander, Texas
4. Dallas, Texas
Four TV Shows I Love to Watch:
1. Project Runway
2. America's Next Top Model
3. Home Movies
4. Style Court
Places I Have Been on Vacation:
1. various places in Mexico
2. New York
3. Lousiana and Mississippi
4. That's about it, I guess. I'm poor.
Four Websites I Visit Daily:
1. Achewood
2. Natalie Dee
3. Chicklit.com
4. Bookslut
Favorite Foods:
1. sweet potatoes
2. various Vietnamese foods that include BBQ pork
3. sushi
4. shrimp
5. oysters
6. squid
7. lemon-filled donuts, although I never eat them
8. thai food with lots of lime
Four Places I would rather be:
1. on vacation
2. at the zoo
3. at a restaurant with my kids and my bf
4. on a sailboat
Four People I Am Tagging With This Meme:
1. Letty
2. Cyra
3. Miss Cathee
4. Datty
(knowing none of them will do it. DO IT, DANG IT.)
Labels: meme
8:48 PM # (6) commentsIf I get fired this week, it'll be because
I keep spacing out for half-hours at a time, deeply involved in cutting off my hairs' split ends. The sunlight catches one of the tiny forked strands in the corner of my eye, and that's it. I'm off, desk scissors in hand.
I keep asking my stylist to trim it all off, but then she says, "You wanna keep the length, right?" and leaves most of them on. Either that or the ends of my hair are very dry and just keep breaking. That's the more likely explanation, I guess. I need to cut off an inch of hard-earned length, then. I can't stop thinking about it. That need runs along the bottom of my mind like a dumb Top 40 song. (This morning it's "Confessions" by Usher. Hate the song, can't stop thinking about it. But at least it's not "My Hump" anymore. Oh, no... Why did I type that?)
So my boss walks by, and I'm holding up the tips of my hair in the window, squinting at them cross-eyes, scissors held up like a sword. Mumbling, "Just when I thought I was something... Something, something, got one on the way... These are my confessions..." He looks askance. I can't blame him.
In other vanity-related news,
I'm running a little contest to see how long I can go without buying new work clothes. All my pants (which are all black or gray) feel too short. I only have six or seven tops, 90% of which are pink or green. I need new clothes, but the stores don't have any good ones in my size. Plus, I don't really see the light of day here. So I'm rebelling, and saving money, by buying nothing. I only buy weekend wear. Screw the rest.
Now I know why the women here dress the way they do (which is to say, shabbily). Because, seriously, who cares? We don't see clients, and no one looks at us. No one to impress but each other. Everyone here compliments my purses, but they don't buy new purses for themselves. What's the point, right? All we need to do is count the minutes...
Oh, man, that's getting depressing.
I've been wanting to bust out my sewing machine and make perfectly fitted clothes that I'd like, but that really is a hobby I don't have time for. As the Peanuts kids would say: *sigh*. I should quit whining and lose some weight. But it's so much easier to write books, instead. That's how hard losing weight is - so hard that you'd rather write books. Easier than both of those, however, is playing World of Warcraft and filling virtual shopping carts with things I'll never buy. That's the easiest thing of all, especially if you eat snacks while you're doing it.
Happy Chinese New Year.
That is to say, "Kung hey fat choi." I memorized that so I can say it to my boyfriend's parents as I hand them a bag of oranges or tangerines this weekend. Rest assured that I will forget it when the time comes. I'm getting to where I can understand lots of little words and sentences in their language. But I can't ever pronounce them with the right tone.
So I thought I would learn Vietnamese, instead. His parents speak about 37 languages, English and Spanish being the ones in which they're least fluent. Vietnamese is the Asian language I'm exposed to most, being that I have a medical condition that causes me to frequently crave Vietnamese food. So I'm learning the words. Com means rice. Pho is the beef soup. Bun is the vermicelli noodles. Except picture all those words with little punctuation marks all over them. Thit nuong is the most important phrase in the Vietnamese language. It means beautful, lean, vinegar-y sweet barbecued pork. Gah-(oi) (don't know the spelling) means my favorite vinegar-y salad. Meh-(ee) means Latino.
So... I can't pronounce any of those right, either. So many long dipthongs and tripthongs. But the waitresses are willing to understand me when I try. "Pho! Tai! Lung!" I gulp at them like a tertiary character in a bad Kung Fu movie. They smile and write down the real words that mean "beef soup, large." Not even my boyfriend pronounces it all correctly. But they don't smile when he gets it wrong. "Sell-out," they think, mistaking him for Vietnamese, instead of the one-of-a-myriad-million-types-of-Chinese that he is.
"That's good," Hoa tells me. She's one our Vietnamese friends. "You almost know how to say it. I can't get this idiot to remember anything," she adds, lightly punching her boyfriend Rick. He's Salvadoran. I smile sympathetically. Rick says he's looking into language courses at a local community center. He and I may not ever speak Vietnamese for shit but, as Latinos, we share the innate desire to show respect for the parents of our significant others.
I found a "Learn to speak Vietnamese" CD-Rom, but I haven't had time to get into it yet. It promises to have me speaking the language within a week.
That'll be nice. It'll be a relief to be able to say "Hello, how are you" to my boyfriend's parents, without them turning to him and saying, "What did your girlfriend just call us?" Also, I'll be able to order all the barbecued pork I want, however far I roam. Also, I'll be able to get even more gossip from the women at my pedicure place.
I'll let y'all know how it goes. I'll make a graphic that indicates our progress. Rick's avatar will be a tortoise, and mine will be a hare.
Just kidding, Rick. Kung hey fat choi, y'all. Happy Tet. Prospero ano nuevo, tambien. 11:10 AM # (13) comments
Friday, January 20, 2006
random1. My boyfriend and I have been fantasizing about the Mexican beach resort vacation we may or may not take this summer. Planning a vacation is so nebulous. Especially when you don't know if you're going to have money, or be completely, utterly broke when it's time to buy your tickets. We're thinking Puerto Vallarta. Maybe Los Cabos, though, if we win the lottery before May.
2. It's Friday and my kids just took off to their dad's for the weekend. I'm torn, already, between plans to shop, plans to have a few beers with my cousin, and plans to lie on my bed and do NOT A DAMN THING (except maybe a little World of Warcraft). On Friday afternoons when my kids are away, I never know what I'm going to do after work until I'm in my car, on the way to it.
3. My ex-spouse and I had about 7 or 8 phone conversations today, most of which contained shouted argument. I was angry this morning, but now I'm over it. I think he goes through these phases, two or three times a year, where he misses me. Misses arguing with me, I mean. I kind of feel sorry for him when it's all said and done. Can I disguise something completely prejudiced here in this paragraph? Don't hate me for saying this, but I think so many Latino men like to get yelled at by women. They accomplish the quenching of this thirst by trying to tell women what to do. And that is why I'll probably never date Latino men again. Unless I change my mind and do so, after all. But that point is moot, isn't it, because I love my boyfriend and, romance-wise, I've opted to live only in the present. I'm sorry if you have Latino husbands or boyfriends who are not like I said. I have a Latino dad and Latino sons who aren't that way, either. If I weren't too lazy to go back and edit this, I'd change it to say "Latino men who are attracted to me have a tendency to..." blah, blah, blah.
4. I only worry about the parts of the future that I can control. That means, now that I've finished a few books and sold most of them, it's time to make a list. What will I do next? I don't know. You can drive yourself crazy trying to figure out which path to take. I know this because I'm 90% crazy right now.
5. I kind of want to go somewhere romantic late tonight when my boyfriend gets off work. (He's a sushi chef. They make him work late.) But it's very hard to plan romantic ambience, especially late at night. My most romantic Friday-night-with-Tad memories are things that happened by accident. Like the time we drove around, waiting for Mike and Cy to call us back, and we ended up at Barnes and Noble, drinking tea and laughing in the aisles, then marvelling at the impromptu hotrod show in the midnight parking lot. Or the time we went to the 24-hour Wal-Mart... Oh, wait. Just kidding. Wal-Mart is horrid.
6. I'm finally reading The Time-Traveler's Wife, like everyone else in America already has, and I have to say that (very mild spoiler) I wasn't that excited until they brought in the kid. Not the safe, rich 6-yr-old kid... the unsafe, scared 5-yr-old one. I swear to God, if you want to emotionally manipulate me, all you have to do is bring in some scared kids. I cried my ass off before the Narnia movie even got underway, what with the kids and the bombings. Shoot, I cry at the Hallmark commercial where the kid thanks his teacher for teaching his dumb ass to read. Dude... I cry for Watership Down when the bunnies are getting on the raft. Oh, wait. Kids aren't bunnies. Well, same thing, though. Same basic thing.
Labels: books, culture, domestic, my sex life
3:42 PM # (9) commentsMonday, January 16, 2006
A Music Meme Given to Me by Tatiana1. Of all the bands/artists in your cd/record collection, which one do you own the most albums by?
I think it must be Pavement. The sad part is that I haven't even listened to one of them. It's still in the wrapper, but now my Pavement phase is done. So now it's in storage, maybe to be discovered and beloved one day.
2. What was the last song you listened to?
It was in my car, on the CD player, on the way home from work... It was... Something from Blur's 13 album.
3. What's in your record/CD player right now?
Blur's 13 album in my car, and at home I just listen to a shuffled favorites list on my laptop's Windows Mediaplayer. Before the Blur, I had U2's Unforgettable Fire in my car player, but I only played it for a few songs before re-burning-out on it and taking it out. I realized yesterday that 95% of the CDs I own are from the '90s.
4. Do you know what music the person before you is into?
The person before me? I don't get what that means. My child, who is beside me, likes Weezer and that Chad Kroeger song from the Spider-Man movie. The people who lived in the apartment below mine in the complex before this? They liked really crappy music. All they played was bad compilation CDs and country. You could tell they fought over it, too, by the way the songs would cut off and switch in medias res. Before me came my dad. He liked stuff like America and The Moody Blues. I like America okay, but I can't really hang with the Moody Blues.
5. What's your favorite local band?
Sadly, I don't know any local Houston bands. I can say that my fave local DJ is some chick named Lori Scott, who used to open for Spundae. Also, I used to hang with a chick who knew this Dallas band called Chomsky. I bought Chomsky's demo CD about 6 or 7 years ago. One of the songs, "Two Steps Away," is on a mix CD I made last month, because I liked it that much.
6. What was the last album you bought?
The Bravery.
7. What was the greatest show you've ever been to?
Probably a DJ show. But we don't count those, do we?
You may not believe this, but I've only been to two concerts in my life, and both of those were when I was pregnant with my first child, at age 20. The first was Van Halen with Sammy Hagar. The whole place smelled like pot and Sammy kept screaming stuff like, "I know y'all like to do a lot of cocaine here in Texas! Right? RIGHT??" The second was the Cure's Wish Tour. Robert Smith made a weird joke about a guy, his doctor, and an orange. The Wish show was the better of the two.
I used to feel really sad and embarrassed about my lack of concert-going experience. Now, however, I no longer care.
8. What's the worst band you've ever seen in concert?
I guess I'm gonna have to say the Van Halen one, by default. Even though I love Eddie Van Halen. Sorry, Eddie. Oh, or you could say any of the sucky bands I saw at SXSW in 1999. I forgot the bad ones' names, though.
9. What band do you love musically but hate the members of?
I don't hate anyone in any band, but it does make me sad when good songs have stupid or hateful lyrics.
10. What is the most musically involved you have ever been?
When I was 17, I sang in a rock band, sang in church choir, and sang in a little musical theater troupe. And I sang weddings for money, sometimes, too.
Fan-wise, I used to be completely obsessed with Led Zeppelin, and then with Yes.
11. What shows are you looking forward to?
I'm gonna try to see Grand Master Flash at the Museum of Fine Arts in a few weeks. Plus, I'm usually pleased to see whatever DJs my bf takes me to see. He keeps the calendar; I just go along.
12. What is your favorite band shirt?
Currently it's my only one, the Pavement shirt Pinky gave me.
As a teenager, I favored the Black Sabbath jersey with the ring-wraith looking person on the front. I wore it until it disintegrated.
13. What musician would you like to hang out with for a day?
Maybe Eddie Vedder, if he isn't crazy now. Or Sasha. I don't know. I'm getting to old to think about musicians to that extent. Maybe Gwen Stefani, because she might feel sorry for me and give me free stuff.
14. What musician would you sleep with in a heart beat?
When I first read this meme, I totally couldn't come up with an answer to this. The next day, I realized that if I had to sleep with a musician, it would be Dave Grohl.
15. Are u a stalker?
No. I'm too lazy to stalk.
16. Sabbath or solo Ozzy?
Don't laugh, but I bought the No More Tears album and used to play that song all the time. So I guess if I'm honest, I'll say solo Ozzy. (Risking getting my ass kicked by my brother.)
17. 80's Madonna or Kabbalah Esther?
Who? Madonna.
18. Punk rock, hip hop or heavy metal?
Punk rock.
19. Name 3 timeless records?
1) U2's Unforgettable Fire. You don't want to hear it anymore, but it's timeless.
2) Beck's Odelay. Whatever - don't say anything.
3) The Clash's Combat Rock. You think it should be London Calling, but I say Combat Rock.
20. Name 3 artists that suck?
1) Blink 182 (or 183, whatever), because they sing like teenagers holding their noses.
2) Pussycat Dolls, because they can barely sing on tune and the lead chick can't breathe or phrase properly
3) Can I just say "anybody on Top 40 radio?" I can't? How about... whoever sang that song that goes, "Take your cat and leave my sweater, 'cause we've got nothing left to weather, you'll feel a whole lot better, but you'll think of me." Who was that? Toby Keith and some other guy, right? That song SUCKED.
21. Did you know that filling out this survey makes you a music geek?
I used to be a music geek when I was a kid. Now I'm getting old, so my music knowledge is freezing like rocky stream above the tree line.
22. What was the greatest decade for music?
I'm going to say the '50s, but only because it was the root of many of today's genres. Really, there was no greatest decade. Every decade has its good and bad. My boyfriend would say "the '80s" without hesitation. I have to point out that the '80s was when all the best rock bands of the '70s turned to sucky pop. But it also gave us New Wave and classic hip hop, so we must give thanks. The '70s was good for rock and R&B, and punk and disco, but also gave us some super cheesy easy listening. The '90s had beautiful grunge, but crappy gangster rap, right?
Okay, forget what I said. I pick the '70s.
23. How many music-related videos/dvds do you own?
None.
24. Do you like Journey?
I don't want to, but of course I sing each of their songs, word for word, whenever they come on the radio. How can I not? I was born in '71. Na, na, na, NA, na, na... My favorite song that I don't like by Journey is "City by the Bay."
25. Don't try to pretend you don't!
Make me.
26. What is your favorite movie soundtrack?
I would like to purchase the Mean Girls soundtrack. Haven't done it yet.
Labels: meme, pop culture
7:01 PM # (5) commentsPictures of Accessories
Here is the necklace I mentioned in the post below.
Here's the bracelet my son made me, also mentioned in the post below.
Here's that bracelet on a human wrist.
Here's a new purse I got from Harwin. I get lots of compliments on it.
Here's a purse I didn't get from Harwin. (It's Guess.) I got more compliments on this purse than on any I've ever owned, for some reason. Even men complimented it.
Another Harwin purse. It looks cheap because it was cheap, but I still like it.
Labels: photos
5:30 PM # (7) commentsI have bad eBay luck.
My boyfriend manages to buy tons of awesome stuff on eBay at 50%, 75%, 90% off, right? And then there I am, searching fruitlessly for hours for one necklace pendant or one blouse that isn't ugly or overpriced. Searching for stuff on eBay makes me frustrated and tired.
Then again, I have good parking luck, so I'll accept that as my trade-off and stop complaining.
My hobby is "beading."
After selling all my beading supplies a year ago, I decided to start it up again. Why? I don't know. I need a hobby. Also, I blame my kids. They were getting into wire sculpting for a while, so it seemed like a good flimsy excuse for me to buy a bunch of beads and pretend those beads were for my kids.
I made a cool necklace that broke the second time I wore it. (Beading wire broke under the crimp.) It took me several months, but I finally found the time to restring it this past weekend. (This time I used tiger tail.) I'm wearing it now, and it makes me happy. See, I'm always looking at necklaces at the mall and telling myself, "I could make that." And, hey, I finally made one, right? It's hard to find the same materials that they use to make the mall necklaces, though. Sewing used to be the same way for me, too. If you can't find good material, you can't sew anything nice.
The saddest part of the beading was watching my kids make rather ugly earrings for me. They're really good - better than me - at shaping the wires, but they have no color-coordination skills, unfortunately. So I have a bunch of ugly earrings in the bead box. I didn't want to lie to my children, or wear the ugly earrings, so I said, "These are very well made, but I can't wear these colors. Let's save these as models for the next earrings you'll make."
Over the weekend, as I was restringing my one pretty necklace, my eight-year-old son, Rory, begged to be allowed to bead, too. He and his brothers have already made all the manly leather cord necklaces they can wear. "I want to make you a bracelet, Mom!" Okay, okay. For once, I had a moment of smartness. I picked out six kinds of coordinating beads (pink, clear, green, pink/green) and let him load them up onto the bead tray thingie. Then, I gave him an appropriate length of memory wire. We had a short discussion about patterns and ratios. (You can't make every other bead green if only one fifth of your beads are green.) Then, I told him he had free rein to string whatever he wanted. And he did. He came up with his own pattern, choosing not to use some of the bead types we'd put in the tray. And, I swear, he made me the most beautiful bracelet I've ever owned. It's way prettier than my precious, twice-strung necklace. I'm gonna try to take a picture of it to show y'all, later this week.
So, when I tell you my hobby is beading, what I mean is that my hobby is running a slave-labor camp in which little kids make me jewelry. Fun for everyone. You should try it.
Taking care of business.
I got a lot done this weekend. I find that I'm happiest when I'm getting a lot done. Last week I finished my revisions for Warner, and this week I finished another kids' book. Please cross your fingers for me that they (Arte Publico Press) likes this one and buys it from me.
I'm really enjoying writing the kids' books. Not to brag, but I think I have a knack for them. I'm good at making up crazy stuff*, one. Two, I have a good memory of what it's like to be a little kid, and I'm good at seeing little kids' points of view. (Maybe that can be summed up by saying, "I'm immature.") Three, I read aloud to my own brats all the time, so I have a good ear for what kids will and won't hang with. For instance, no little kids would be able to listen to this blog entry, or any other that I've written. However, any little kid would love the little story I've written about the good Project Runway designer and his trials and tribulations with the bad Project Runway designer.
I'm just kidding. Of course that's not what the story is about. I'll tell you what it's about if/when it gets sold. Very, very, very soon, I'll update this web site to show what all the upcoming stories are about, so I don't have to keep mentioning them here, where we prefer to have stories about my child support and my sex life. (Just kidding, ha, ha.)
The sad part, lately, about getting so much stuff done is that it sometimes serves to highlight how little the people around me are willing to get done. Like, say, my kids. They're lying around the couch, playing video games. Or else eating ham sandwiches and staring into space. I say, "Look. If you aren't going to spend your spare time writing books or making me jewelry, could you at least get your homework done?"
And they say, "But, Mom, I have to use the computer, and you're on the computer."
And I say, "Didn't I buy you a computer for that very reason?"
And they say, "Oh, yeah. I forgot." And then they go to their computer and type their papers very, very slowly. Like, one word per minute. And while they do this, they keep coughing or making weird squeaking noises so that I'll go into their room and see what the matter is. The matter is that they're typing too slow. "Give me that damned thing," I say. And my kids lie on their beds and languidly punch each other while I type their papers 75 words per minute and change their POVs and switch their passive voices to active.
And then I say, "Y'all have to quit being so lazy. Why are y'all so lazy?"
And they say, "Because we didn't grow up poor and struggling like you, so we don't know the value of what we have, and we don't understand that we have to work hard to preserve it."
And I say, "Oh, so you're saying it's my fault?"
And they just shrug. And then I go to get the big stick with nails that I use to spank them. But then they go make me some earrings or draw a picture of me that says, "I LOVE MY MOM BECUASE SHES NOT ALWAYS A BITCH ONLY SOME TIMES." And then I let it go.
Okay, that's it. That's all I can reasonably type on these subjects today. If you only skimmed over everything else, please just cross your fingers for my latest book. (And for my kids' futures, too, if you have time.)
* See, whereas adults might say, "What in the hell is wrong with you that you wrote a story about giant ants harvesting human lubricants?" I can count on little kids to be more like, "So this story is about twin brother-and-sister graham crackers who wish for joint death in the mouth of a dog? Okay, I'm with you. What happens next?" 11:03 AM # (10) comments
Friday, January 13, 2006
Reader SurveyThis isn't a meme - just a list of questions I'm interested in hearing people's answers to. Feel free to answer in the comments section, or on your blog, or not at all.
1. What does "surfing the 'net" encompass for you? Reading blogs? Browsing online catalogs? Reading news? Looking for weird stuff? Stealing jpgs? Pron?
2. What are your favorite web sites to buy from? Or, to window-shop on?
3. What are your plans for Valentine's Day?
4. What is your favorite flower?
5. If you had to have a wedding (or if you had to redo your wedding), what would be the most important aspect of it for you? Dress, flowers, music, food? Explain and describe. 4:35 PM # (43) comments
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
My Recent Random Thoughts on Pop CultureHoward Stern
The first time I listened to the Howard Stern show on the radio, it was because I thought he was Alan Alda. I stopped on whatever station was playing it at the time because I liked the sound of Alan Alda's voice. I listened for about an hour, thinking, "Wow, Alan Alda is way more saucy and opinionated that I would have guessed." Then, the next day, when I found Alan Alda talking on the radio again and listened for another hour, I finally realized that it was Howard Stern. So I listened on and off for a while. He was interesting.
The most memorable thing he ever did was pretend not to know what a minor chord was. They asked some guy to play a Van Halen song, and the guy said, "I don't like to play the minor ones - those bring me down." And I knew he meant minor chords, and I knew Howard knew, too, but he said, "What do you mean, minor? That's a big hit." And I could tell he pretended to be ignorant so his listeners who were ignorant didn't have to feel stupid.
But then, one day, he talked about something stupid that was done by a politician who happened to be Latino. And he played the Mexican Hat Dance in the background. That was too gratuitous and lame for me, so I quit listening that day. I have to say, though, that his satellite radio programming sounds very interesting. I wish I had my own radio show(s), even though my voice, some people say, is annoying. My boyfriend has a beautiful speaking voice. I wish he had his own show, too. Or that he could cohost with me.
Eva Longoria
Everywhere I look, I see this woman's face. I'm a little bit tired of it. I have nothing against her personally, but it doesn't cease to amaze me how, lately, the "majority" culture in America is spellbound by average-looking Latinas. Eva Longoria is pretty - as pretty as my cousins and half the Latinas working at the grocery store. She's not the most beautiful woman in the world, though. If we had more Latinas on TV, people would know that. Hell, look at Univision. Beautiful Latinas are rather common. So... can we have one who isn't Eva Longoria share the magazine ads with her now and then?
"Brangelina" and whatever they're calling Nick and Jessica now
It amuses me when people call into the radio stations and foam at the mouth over whatever is going on with these celebrity couples. First of all, I don't think we can really know, no matter how many gossip columns we read, what's really going on with celebrities' relationships. Second, I think people who feel so strongly about them must be projecting their own experiences and traumas. Third, what's up with people blaming Angelina and not Brad? What is this, 1952? Fourth, I think Angelina is pretty. But Jennifer Anniston was really good in Good Girl. But Jessica Simpson annoys my kids. That's all.
Project Runway
Santino is rude and poorly groomed. Nick is okay, but not as sweet as people want to believe, considering the way Santino so easily peer-pressures him into being bitchy. Many of the models look like men. Marla should've been kicked off before Guadalupe. Diana's voice is not annoying - I wish people would stop saying that.
Here in Houston, Chloe Dao's boutique has a big sign on it advertising her participation on the show, but she won't tell anyone whether or not she won. But I suspect she didn't. But I wonder if she went to Fashion Week.
I liked Daniel Franco (not having seen Season One, though). He is the love child of David Arquette and Keanu Reeves, and his hairstyle is very similar to my boyfriend's. Heidi is very pretty to me since I started watching this show. Even though Santino is a hater, I can admit that his designs are pretty. However, he doesn't design to flatter women's bodies, so I'm not sure he deserves to win.
New people, think before you speak.
I rarely mention celebrities on this blog, but when I do, someone who's never read my blog before will log on to the comments just to argue with me about my own opinion. (Examples: the John Mayer episode and the Nickelback debacle.)
People, if your only mission in life is to go around hating on John Mayer, defending Nickelback, slandering Christina Aguilera, or whatever... I'm not saying that's a bad mission. I'm just saying it would probably be better served on a forum where celebrities are the main topic. You know? I mean, share your opinion, by all means, but don't get all worked up about it. I am a mother of preteens. It's not worth trying to convince me that my pop culture opinions should be the same as yours.
Labels: pop culture
9:25 AM # (10) commentsWednesday, January 04, 2006
Finally: The Answers to the Eleven Questions that I, as an Author, Am Most Frequently Asked1. So, are you and your boyfriend going to get married?
Not at the moment, no. We don't have any plans to do so.
2. Why not?
Well... Because he's not ready to get married, and I've already been married and I don't feel the need to do it again.
3. Don't you want to try for a girl?
Not really. I'm happy with my three boys. They're plenty.
4. Why not? Come on. Don't you want to marry Tad and have a cute little Chinese baby girl with him? Wouldn't that be the cutest thing? Come on! It'd be so cute! How long have you two been together, anyway?
I can't afford to have a baby right now, and we're not getting married. We've been together two and a half years, and we're happy the way we are. Did you know that there are lots of Chinese baby girls up for adoption? Why don't you get your own?
5. So what's up with your writing?
Well, right now I'm revising my chick-lit novel for Warner, and I just sold my first children's book, and I'm about to start working on...
6. Oh, you sold a book? So I guess you'll be quitting your job now, huh?
No. I haven't made enough money to quit my job. Hardly any authors do, really. You only hear about the ones who sell movie rights and get rich, but usually...
7. So, are you gonna buy me a car when you get rich?
No. (Unless you're my kids, my boyfriend, or my dad.)
8. Hey, you're not writing about me, are you?
No. Or, if I am, you won't recognize yourself, because you aren't very introspective. All I'll do is change your name and haircolor, and you'll never realize that the most annoying person in the book is you.
9. Cool. Hey, I have a really awesome idea for a book you could write. Wanna hear it?
No. You should keep it and write it for yourself.
10. I do a little writing, myself. Will you look at my stuff and tell me what you think?
Sure, you can give me a short piece. But only once. I don't have time to go over multiple revisions with you (unless you're my friend in real life and you're buying me lunch). Also, please don't show me work in which you have exposed yourself as a psycho. Those ones keep me up at night. Also, please don't show me very good work and then, when I tell you it's very good, put it away in a drawer and give up on yourself. That always makes me sad. There are too many good artists who are afraid, and too many persistent untalented people who get what good artists should have. So stop beating yourself up, and put your work out there. I did it, and look what happened for me.
11. You do realize, don't you, that when you got that extra Costco card for Tad, you and he became common law husband and wife? And, if you get rich, he can file for divorce and take half your stuff? So you may as well go ahead and have another baby, right?
That's what you think. When Costco misspelled his name on his card, I let them. So I remain a free woman. And I have to go back to writing my revisions now.
Labels: my sex life, writing
5:25 PM # (10) commentsGoodbye, 2005. It was fun.
Labels: photos
4:42 PM # (11) comments
