Been very busy finishing up a project in the past few days, which explains the lack of blogging. As a “creative” I often deny myself time to actually create new ideas. That seems to be a frequent problem for a lot of us. But I just started on a few books and expect to be full of ideas by tomorrow.
Marion McMahon
Because what are you without a blog?
Monthly Archives: October 2011
I Blamed the Kitchen
I used to bake…a lot. I’d even experiment with stuff that sounded wildly complicated. If you were lucky enough to be my co-worker during this time, you got to experience everything from my perfect banana bread to some very questionable yogurt cake. It was a very fulfilling hobby – mainly because it had the ability to make others happy.
But then, I just stopped.
There didn’t seem to be a good reason behind it. It just became more cumbersome. It wasn’t that I didn’t have the ability, time, or even all the special equipment – I even got a brand new mixer for Christmas. Now my spices are no good and my pans are collecting dust.
Tonight, I reflected – while cooking a frozen meal for dinner – why I had given up one of the few hobbies that ever gave me real joy. The answer seemed to be the one problem I always ran into while I was baking: my kitchen size. Though I initially fought through it, I did notice that I began making excusing on what I was going to bake because there wasn’t enough space for a cooling rack…or to have the mixer and blender out at the same time…or to even efficiently do all my pre-baking prep work.
Counter space is prime real estate in the business of baking and treat-making. But here’s the thing: most bakers don’t have all the space in the world. We can’t all have the premier kitchens of Paula Dean or The Pioneer Woman. And I know from lurking on food blogs that it would seem plenty of accomplished bakers and cooks don’t have a lot to work with when it comes to space. Basically, it comes down to maximizing what you have – or, as my mom would call it, “making it work”.
My mom baked cakes on a hot plate in college. Yes, you read correctly. She’s never been afraid to tackle any recipe, even though a lot of them have attacked her in return. But she’s a good cook. I could go to her house right now and say, “I want to make such and such,” and she’d give it a go. She’s failed enough to know that the real fun is in giving it a shot.
The reality is we should never fear taking risks and pushing our boundaries when it comes to our hobbies – it’s way too good of a practice for work and “real-life” situations.
So, I guess now the real question is – having gone over six months since baking – what should I try to get going again?
#Censorship and Me
Pretty sure I was 9 or 10 when my blood boiled for the first time.
It was outside of the (now defunct, sadly) Intimate Bookshop in Chapel Hill, NC. They had in their window display a sampling of books banned across the US – all of which you could purchase in their shop. What was particularly great about this display was that they gave you the location of the ban and the justification for the ban.
My eye was immediately drawn to a book I had just read and loved: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl. I’m pretty sure the ban location was Iowa. But the ban justification, that is burned in my memory: “For having an unrealistic outlook on life.”
I turned to my dad and said unbelievably, “Why would they ban a book for having an unrealistic outlook on life?”
All I got was a shoulder shrug. Or maybe he did say something and I couldn’t hear through my rage. Because I know that I was genuinely mad about it. This was my first encounter with censorship, one that I’ve never really gotten over.
Maybe because I was privileged enough to grow up around books a lot – books that had been read to me since the day I was born, books about anything I could possibly think of, books that allowed me to go wherever I needed. By the time of the incident in front of the bookshop, I felt pretty confident that reading was my joy and something that always made me feel in control. Surely there were other kids who felt the same way. And…and…these assholes were going to stop a kid from getting a book because it might make them dream?! Something was very wrong with all of this.
I sought out small ways to “fight the system” on this. A few years later in my forensics/debate class, the only bill I entered in our mock-congress session was to remove parental advisory labels from CDs. This was in direct response to an incident that had happened to me on my 15th birthday: I was not allowed to buy a copy of Nirvana’s In Utero, even though it had no parental advisory label on it! (The clerk informed me that the computer indicated the label was supposed to be there and said that my friend and I must have torn it off.) This proved to me that this whole system was inefficient - and quite damaging for the business, who missed out on $17 of my birthday money that day and any of my business after that. It was also inconsistent – I went straight to a larger retailer and was able to buy the CD with no problem.
Time hasn’t done much to change my views. I’ve had much time to reflect on the myriad of reasons why books – and other forms of art – are banned from libraries, bookstores, and public view: too sexually provocative, too violent, too “politically diverse”. The arguments are almost always about “protecting the children”. Really? As communities, we should be protecting children, and adults, from abuse, crime, and poverty, not blocking them from an opportunity to learn or engage something new.
A more recent display on banned books.
The Slow Journey to Sick
Sorry, folks. I am feeling under the weather and the tickle in my throat tells me something worse could be coming in the next couple of days. Resting up and reading a great book I just checked out called “The Accidental Creative”. Here’s hoping good blog ideas can be produced, along with more energy, in the following days.
9 to 5 in 2011
One of the few things about being unable to sleep when everyone else can is you get to pick out a movie without argument. My pick two nights ago was an old favorite, 9 to 5.
I first saw this movie on a weekend with my dad and stepmother when I was around 9. This much I got from the movie then: it sucked to be a secretary, the boss was an asshole, it sucked to work for an asshole. Then and now, I did love this fantastic idea of taking over the workplace, having it run by women, and it actually being better as a result.
I’ve only taken a real interest in women’s history – and more particularly the history of the women’s rights movement in America – in very recent years. Maybe because I grew up around women who I thought showed themselves to be tougher then the men (Sorry Dad! Sorry PawPaw!), I kind of assumed a female’s place was dominant in most situations. I mean, even all my teachers were women up until middle school and nobody messed with these ladies.
It wasn’t till I was older that I began to see that being a woman – especially a tough women – was really difficult. College became an interesting time of both understanding and compromising my views on the subject of women’s equality. I’m now at a place where I can confidently say that I embrace what I see as the contemporary women’s movement and am appalled at all the injustices that still exist for women worldwide.
The saddest part about 9 to 5 – which was released in 1980 – is that I can see troubling elements from that movie – sexual harassment, lack of “management opportunities”, the extra burdens of the single, working woman – that I could relate to as a woman in the workplace nearly 30 years later. The best part? Probably the sincerity delivered in these lines :
P.S. – This post was inspired by today’s Post-a-Day prompt “Write a Review of the Last Movie You Saw”
Did I Do That?
A blog was missing yesterday but I’m not sorry: I was working.
Today, I had several pieces of my work judged. Ok, really it was just meetings and emails. But in this business, it’s judgement. And overall everything went well.
This isn’t to say everything I worked on doesn’t have more improvements awaiting. But I had one of those moments today when I just sat down, reflected back on all the work I had done over the past few weeks and said to myself, “Did I really do all this?”
Those of you in the freelance and creative worlds might be able to relate: I think I’ve just convinced myself that I can do this on my own, and do it well. Well enough that I can take the time to get better.
This is short because there is more work to be done. Here’s to building something worth sitting down and reflecting on in years to come.
P.S. This is also on my list of “5 Things I’m Afraid to Write About” – my career and the choices I’ve made about it.
Breaking: 7th Grader likes @WFAE
“Oh, I like this station…”
I sat in the driver’s seat dumbfounded. For the past couple of weeks I had been turning the car radio (when my classic rock stations were on commercial) to WFAE, the local NPR affiliate. Suddenly, I had an affirmation that my 12-year-old was not only listening to what was being said, but liked it. What the…?
I’ve never been a big listener to NPR despite the fact that I fit the bill of a stereotypical NPR listener – I’m a progressive, I think deeply about minor issues in the grand scheme of things, and anything that’s odd or eclectic I usually devote time to investigating. But I really like rock of the 60s and 70s, so that’s usually what I’m listening to.
Now my daughter’s liking of the station wouldn’t be such a big deal to most people, but let me fill you in on a couple of important details: my daughter is a whiner – good enough to make any middle-schooler nod in approval. If she doesn’t like something, she will tell you and tell you again and then ask you how you could be so crazy as to like it. Also, on things she does like, she usually tunes out. I want to say she’s not the artsy kid off in her own world, but well, she is most of the time – especially on car rides.
Basically, a radio station that has no flash (Patton Owalt’s observations on this) and talks about things like exotic foods, how people live in other countries, and (blah) US politics, got and held the attention of a pre-teen who I had feared had focus problems. She was even asking me questions about what was just said. She laughed a couple of times. This is insane.
After a re-affirmation of approval when she heard this story on the way home from school, it hit me: maybe it’s me who has been part of the problem. Maybe my child doesn’t just want to talk about what happened at school, what homework she has, what she wants to do over the weekend, and what she wants for dinner. Maybe I’m asking way too many questions about…boring stuff?
There are some parents who will read this and say, “Well, uh, yeah! You should be introducing interesting content into your child’s life everyday.” This content shouldn’t always ask direct questions; sometimes it should just inform and plant seeds – much like the writing I’m attempting to make a living on.
I challenge every parent reading this to try this with their kids. No, not so much listening to NPR, but giving them something interesting to reflect on that they don’t talk about in their daily routines. You might learn something new about your child and, really, arguing about how much time they spend on their homework will only get you halfway through dinner.
This is the kind of radio that I imagine devoted NPR listeners tune in on...
P.S. The WordPress Post A Day topic prompt of the day was “List 5 things you’re afraid to write about” – this takes care of one of them: parenting.
I Still Use an iPhone 3G
…And I don’t care who knows it.
The only reason I bought the 3G is because my previous iPhone was stolen (along with the entire contents of my purse). Prior to this incident – of basically having all the day-to-day essentials of my life taken from me – I had a very different attitude about what I needed.
It would be a big lie to say I quit being a consumer and “really cut back” after this happened. But I haven’t bought another designer handbag since (I used to be quite the collector), have only purchased 3 pairs of shoes and have not replaced my phone.
I’ve been tempted with each new generation of the iPhone and when I learned that there would be no more updates for the 3G, I almost panicked. But I started doing something after my purse was stolen that I didn’t do at all prior – I started to “sleep on it.”
There is no real advantage to me upgrading. I would be right back in a contract – a contract with a company that wants to overcharge me for data (which I can no longer get unlimited) and which thinks it’s cute to create a monopoly on wireless. I could move to another big carrier but then another contract would be in order so I don’t have to drop a month’s worth of living expenses on a new phone.
See, there have been a few times lately that people have raised their eyebrows over the fact that I still rock a 3G – but they no longer concern me. This phone doesn’t call the shots.
We should not be slaves to what we carry around in our pockets and use to communicate, and we certainly shouldn’t be subjects of the companies that provide them. My phone is not my identity, it doesn’t make me better at what I do for a living or a better person.
I used to replace things because they weren’t the newest thing anymore. Now I replace them when they quit working. So I’m going to stick with my 3G until I get that inevitable text message: “This phone is no longer going to be serviced – move on already.”
For Your Patience, A Photo Blog
Refusing to take the good advice of my blog last night, I didn’t nap or properly make time to write the blog I needed today.
There is a silver lining – I have some great starts to 6 other blogs. They will range from being political in nature, to biographical experiences, to narrow observations on consumer culture.
But today you get a sampling of some of the photos I’ve taken this week. Thanks to the amazing talents of Instagram. Enjoy and join me tomorrow for more…words.
Hedgehogged. Glass display in children's area of library.
Waiting Water. For the patrons in the waiting room of a hospital.
Dulce. Fresh gelato in display of bakery/dessert shop.
Where Heads Bang and Blogs Die
And so will some blogs (not to underplay the fact that men do need to go to the doctor)
The blog I’ve been waiting for this week is finally here: I have no idea what to say. The Wall is there and is quite the opponent.
This is the fifth blog attempt tonight and I can’t conclude what to say. Despite the great start to this day, I’m quite mentally exhausted and can’t wrap my head around anything other than sleep.
So why am I still awake? Why do I fight it?
Because I feel obligated. Not so much to this blog post – though I like the idea of staying committed to a post everyday – but to the idea that it’s Friday night and it shouldn’t be time for bed yet.
Yes, I’ve hung on to that childish notion that good things might happen after midnight on the weekend and I might miss out so…I clearly have to fight through my being tired.
One thing I learned this week in forcing myself to write: if you’ve got nothing to say, there’s probably a good reason. Maybe you should eat something. Maybe you should read something. Maybe your ass should sleep, old lady, and deal with it in the morning.
You know that billboard that says something along the lines of, “So many men will die this year of stubbornness”? I can’t help but think that many blogs will die from that too.
I was much more likely to quit this blog tonight (and be frustrated enough to never come back) because I felt that brilliance should be upon me by now. But I’ve settled – and sometimes letting The Wall win one night will mean that I’ll do better tomorrow.
If the metaphor was too much, pardon me: I’m apparently tired.
