September 24th, 2009

To the semi-colon, a respectful love note

The Rose-coloured Mafia has become aware (thank you, Mark!) that today is National Punctuation Day! When asked what my favourite punctuation is (yes, this is what authors talk about…some authors), I would have to say nervously, the semi-colon.

“Nervously” because the semi-c is a notoriously “advanced” bit of punctuation, one I’ve only learned to use properly (I hope) in the past few years. It’s got subtly and gradations, nuance and force. Let me explain.

Usage 1: to divide items in a list when there are commas (or conjunctions) within the individual list items. Confused already? I understand. Ok:

As we all know, if you have more than two simple things you are listing in a sentence, you mark them off with commas (eg., “The period, exclamation point, and question mark are all terminal punctuation.”) [Note: the comma before the “and” is optional, but that’s another post.] But if they are items that themselves contain lists, a reader might get confused, so you use commas for the lists internal to the items, and semi-colons for the larger list (eg., “My favourite suppers are mac and cheese; tomato, ham, and swiss omelettes; and turkey, bacon, and avocado sandwiches).

Usage 2: to link two independent clauses and imply the relationship between them. Independent clauses are clauses that *could* stand alone as sentences, but they don’t have to. For example, “Philip is married to Nina. I hate Nina.” is just an enumeration of facts, some of them unhappy. But, “Philip is married to Nina; I hate Nina,” implies that their is a causal link between these two facts–perhaps I hate Nina because she is married to Philip. Perhaps I love Philip. Perhaps inherent in this grammatical example is a great novel.

The relationship has to be pretty obvious and self-contained for the semi-colon to make sense. You can’t just match up any two sentences and sometime later explain the link: “Philip is married to Nina; I like pie” is a bad semi-colon use, even if it comes out 30 pages later that I am planning to murder Nina with a poison pie…

Usage 3: to link two independent clauses if a transition is used between them. Transition words–properly called “conjunctive adverbs” for reasons that are a little confusing–are ones like however, therefore, moreover. These words make the link between clauses explicit, yet because they are not conjunctions we still need that semi-c. For example, “Nina is devouring the pie; therefore, she’ll soon be dead.”

***

Something I tried and tried to tell the first-year Effective Writing students I TA’d for is that a full life–and deathless prose–can be lived WITHOUT the semicolon. Yes, it adds nuance to a sentence, but only if you use it properly; otherwise, it looks stupid, same as any other error. This is higher-end punctuation, but only in the sense that unlike the comma and the period, you don’t *have* to use it, and probably will only really need it for complicated ideas. But it doesn’t *make* an idea complicated. There no such thing, really as a 50-cent word, or 50-cent punctuation: there’s just 50-cent ideas and the best way for an individual author to express them. But my students kept sticking semi-colons in after “and” anyway.

Up in the club
RR

September 22nd, 2009

Eden Mills, with new lighting

Ok, enough with adorable kittens–back to literature!

August asks, “How was Eden Mills?” and Rebecca responds–perfect!

It was no last year at Eden Mills, both better (because there wasn’t a downpour) and less thrilling (because it wasn’t the first day I ever saw my book); overall it was just a wonderful days of sitting in the sunshine, listening to great readings and eating muffins.

It would take threat of violence to get me to pick a favourite reading, but among the very very good were Andew Hood, Saleema Nawaz! Zoe Whittall! Sonnet L’abbe! Julie Wilson! And the man himself, Leon Rooke! See those last two below, revelling in their spellbinding stories (Julie tells me there is a mink or similar creature on the bank of the Erasmosa in this picture of her, but I can’t honestly make it out).

Oh, it was a great day, so good to see so many friendly faces and good books. And then it was very good to come quietly back to the city and go to sleep.

They’ll keep an eye on you son
RR

September 18th, 2009

Smart does not equal serious

Here the thing, er, things:

This blog is pink.

I wear glitter to celebrate.

If you say something especially witty or interesting, I might clap (without irony).

I have strong thoughts on Sean Kingston (angry thoughts, but still).

I bake a lot of muffins.

I saw *I Love You Man* and didn’t regret it.

I eat things that fall on the floor.

Until recently, I owned a grape-scented Barbie doll, and when I gave away said doll, it was with a great deal of careful consideration.

I’m afraid of bats, cabdrivers, having too many items in the express lane, and people thinking I’m dumb.

I’m not dumb! Not according to my last IQ test, anyway, although that was in grade 7. Whatever. My CGPA was high! Well, pretty high! I can do math in my head…sometimes.

Ok, sure: sometimes I like dumb things. Sometimes I like smart things, sometimes I like things that you can’t intellectually assess (like gum!) Sometimes I *do* dumb things, like thinking I can make my own pastry bag. Sometimes I do smart things, like optimizing my bus route, or writing a good short story. Really, it happens.

I worry sometimes that no matter how carefully considered my thoughts on Thomas Hardy are, people are going to dismiss them because I am wearing rose-patterned tights during the conversation. Sometimes I think that I should be actively cultivating an image, and that image should involve sarcasm and clove cigarettes, or at least fewer hugs and less gum.

But then I have a bad day or someone says something mean or I get a headache, and I think that life is difficult, and we must find comfort where we can. And I for example, am immensely comforted by kittens. Their existance, their fluffiness, amusing pictures and videos thereof.

Friday I discovered I can haz cheeseburger and the LOLcats and it did my tender little tough-day heart a world of good. But I have picked the toughest, dark-angst-ridden artist LOLcats to share with you–see?

Tell me you aren’t happier than you were a second ago?

RR

Suggestions

There is *so much* going on of late that is awesome that the only way I can imagine anyone going wrong is if they were to sit home in the dark and not read anything. But if you are looking for suggestions…

1) Leon Rooke!! Everyone thing the man does is astounding, but specifically:

a. His new book, The Last Shot, promises to be thrilling. I have to admit I haven’t opened it yet, as I only attended the warm and wonderous launch last night, but such was the buzz in the room that I’m pretty sure I’m right about this.

b. His festival, The Eden Mills Writers’ Festival, which Leon and his late wife Connie started over 20 years ago, and which continues to surprise and delight and extremely talented authors to read there. This Sunday afternoon, by the river outside Guelph. I’m bringing muffins, a sitting-on-the-ground blanket, and book-buying funds–see you there?

c. His art exhibit, Peculiar Practices, at the The Bookshelf in Guelph, which runs until this Sunday. I have no idea what to expect, but am excited anyway!

2) If for some reason you can’t be in the Guelph/Eden Mills regions but you can be in the Sharon region, maybe try the Words Alive Festival in Sharon, Ontario, also with a bevy of talented readers, and (I’m told) a beautiful setting… If I weren’t already booked!

3) In preparation for hearing her read at the aforementioned Eden Mills, I have been joyously reading Saleema Nawaz’s beautiful story collection Mother Superior. I’m only halfway, and still have no idea what the cover art means, but I already know that this is one of the best new books I’ve read in a while.

4) Online: Alex Boyd has a new blog, Kathrine Nabity is doing a wonderful history of how she wrote and published her first novel, and *I* have an author page on GoodReads!!

5) I’ll be reading in Ottawa on October 17, 5pm, at the Manx Pub as part of the Plan 99 reading series. I am very excited.

6) You can go read some good stories at the University of Toronto alumni Short Story contest readers’ choice site. If you are yourself an alumnus, you can even vote for your favourite. (completely equitable hint)

I am very excited about everything in the universe right now, except that it is cold out and I am not feeling well. So, thank goodness for literature! As usual!

Precious precious precious
RR

September 17th, 2009

Professional Interviews (5): Jamie, Project Manager

The fifth in my series of interviews with people about their jobs, an attempt for me to both learn to interview and learn about people’s jobs. This one was the first phone interview, which presents its own challenges, of lack of facial expressions and gestures, but not too much of a handicap, I don’t think (maybe Jamie is just exceptionally expressive, I’m not sure). Anyway, I’m in bold, J’s in Roman, and I hope you find this all as interesting as I do.

***

What is your job description on paper? Ie., What did they hire you to do?

I guess manage documents and staff. Manage staff, maintain documents. Maintain the integrity of a set of documents. (what does that mean?) It’s business-speak–it’s making sure that the documents are in order, checking if there’s a relationship between the documents…because often if you are dealing with 500 000 documents, their order has probably been tampered with because of moving, because of coming from many sources. I have to make sure, with this team of people, that these documents are…I don’t know…organized properly. It can be very tedious.

What do you actually do?

I deal with the documents at the ground level, I hire people, I make sure that the staff is aware of what’s going on and, because we’re in front of a computer for 8 hours, I try to be as conscious as I can of the general happiness of the staff. That can be anything from health problems to their infighting, how they deal with one another. That’s why I said I’m managing the staff as well as dealing with these documents.

Can you do a day for me? Like, hour by hour?

I’ve been wondering that myself for the last week! A typical day is at my desk, viewing documents, seeing if there’s a relationship, cataloguing, one ear open to the environment of the office. Making sure that whatever’s happening in the office is communicated back to my supervisor. I’m kind of in the middle, between the bosses and the regular staff.

Lately I’ve been dealing with something else, so I haven’t been looking at the documents. But there’s always part of me that is worrying that people are talking too much, or we’re not producing enough numbers… When we were on a deadline, I made sure I was there cataloguing the documents with everyone else on the weekends. Like, I don’t have my own office, I’m in the mix with everyone else.

Are you responsible for disciplinary issues?

Yes. But I don’t— Like, we work in an office building where we should be wearing business casual, which is a rule I prefer to ignore, and then sometimes people take it to a new level of informality, and show up in really questionable clothing choices for the environment but I would prefer that people dress to make themselves comfortable because it can be difficult being in an office all day. Why make it any harder?

I hate discipline. I’m passive aggressive, so that makes it very difficult. Last week I spoke to someone that was being too loud. The person wasn’t being loud in that moment, so an argument could be made that I should have waited for an example of the problem to say something, but I saw a moment to go over and I said “Ok, you have to watch the volume of your voice. I’m sorry if you feel picked on.” And the person’s response was “Yeah, I do feel picked on.” And then this person went on to list four other staff that needed to be disciplined even more. Which I find humourous, that one person would be willing to sell out all the other people in the office? And for what? Vindication of poor behaviours maybe?

I see problems in the office and I try to think is this just how people deal with the every day or something that we need to deal with. We can’t help ourselves, people, humans. I probably ignore more than most people would. Eventually though you don’t have a choice, once you call yourself project manager and have hired people, you have to go up to people and say, “Do not cut your toenails at work, please. That’s disgusting ” The thing I want to say, “Get your head out of your ass,” but I don’t say, because if you’re verbally abusive people usually aren’t going to listen to you. But because we work in an open environment, 13 people in a room, its not impossible that a toenail could fly in the air and hit someone in the eye.

What is the part of your job you are best at?

Wow, I don’t know. What would someone say to that?

Like, in your job interview, the thing you said you could contribute to the company, the thing that you are good at offering.

Interpersonal skills. I love it, I know there are lots of people who would rather work at home, but I love the social aspect of work. And I don’t mean talking about watching “American Idol” last night, I mean collaborating with people, the process of work. Most of my relationships even with my close friends involve work. I don’t think I have a close friend right now that I don’t have a job with.

…I just like work, I like my social relationships being about work. This conversation I take a great amount of pleasure in because it’s for your blog, there’s something to it.

I spend more time at work than I do at home, most people do, so where do I live?

Why not just go home and say, this isn’t my problem?

I suppose, the easiest thing…if it’s not done, I’d be the first person to be asked why it wasn’t finished. I’d be asked, what were people doing that it wasn’t done? I helped hire the staff, made sure that they can do things within the parameters of the deadline.

I’ve really come to this by accident. I don’t have a law degree and there are people there who are lawyers and it would be really really cool if I had a law degree too I’m sure, but that just isn’t going to happen. Anyway, that’s my day job. My nights are filled up editing a film about a person with a porn addiction. And I’d really like that to be my focus. Not to porn addiction, ideally it would be to make films and write. Right now I’m taking the Kafka approach, to work all day and write all night. I’m trying to eliminate distractions around me and to just write and make these films.

It’s the day job question–can you get any glow from your job? You care about your job and are good at it, so can you feel proud of it the way you do about a solid piece of writing?

I need money to exist. I’ll reduce it to the basics first. I like to live a certain way, and a person has to have a job, that’s almost always true. The things I’m writing right now, they don’t pay. I have to have a job, I like the people I work with, and I actually take pleasure in the work. In having 5 calls to make and making sure things are getting done. It’s the process, and that’s what I take pleasure in with the writing, the process of the drafts of stories is the day to day stuff to me, which I enjoy doing. I know that mundane work day kills people inside, but I don’t have that feeling after 6 years. That might be because I’m in a position that has some power to it, or because I work for someone who’s very freethinking and opening minded. My boss, he really does have a creative mind. And that helps. I’m not really sure if I worked somewhere else, if I’d have the same passion. But then, I equally I enjoyed working at a pizza place for years.

What do you do at lunchtime?

Um…bitch. If I’m with the one or two coworkers that are my confidants, we’ll take a break to go out of the office to talk about the office. Sometimes I’m playing basketball. I’m obsessed with the middleaged weight-gain, I’m terrified of it, so I’m getting some exercise. If I could do it the way I’d like it, I’d be by myself. I used to go to this place that no one else went, it served this disgusting pasta with bbq sauce and this chicken…well, it wasn’t good. But it’s a space where I don’t have to worry about meeting anyone.

When you meet people at parties and they ask what you do, how do you describe it one sentence? What follow-up questions do they ask, if any?

“I’m in litigation and at night I’m collaborating on a documentary about a porn addict.” I never tell people I’m a writer. “Documentary about a porn addict” is easier than writer because it’s more complete, people get that. People ask what you write and you say surreal noirs, they might not get that, and they say, what’s that like? Most times at parties, people give you maybe 5 minutes, so I try to reduce it quickly to its main points. It’s a short form to say “I do this but I also do that.” You’re looking for the description that people nod at and move on. This is cynical, but people don’t have the time in their lives to put into that many other people, they’re too busy with their own lives.

Who would you warn away from this career path–who is absolutely not suited for this job?

I would have assumed that I would have been not suited for my job, and I seem to like it so…who knows?

***
Some of Jamie Popowich’s writing can be found here.

RR

September 16th, 2009

Blogging Tips from the Big Screen

Well, it had to happen: I saw Julie and Julia and loved it, and even better, I got over some of my retro gender stereotypes and saw it with someone of the male persuasion, who loved it too!

Better still (or at least equal), this is the first movie I’ve ever seen about a blogger. Well, half about a blogger…the less interesting half, according to pretty much everyone who has reviewed the film. And it’s hard–Meryl Streep is perhaps the best actress in popular cinema today and Amy Adams is…not bad. Julia Child revolutionized cooking in America and Julie Powell wrote a fairly interesting blog for a while. Julia had Paris, Julie had Queens. It’s sort of depressing to continue in this vein, because the character I identified with was Julie.

And I liked the Julie sections of the film, because they are still pretty interesting though not revolutionary or Parisian, but also because they addressed issues I’ve never seen dramatized before, issues dear to my heart–blogging issues.

*And* this gives me an opportunity to do a blogging-tips post here, which I’ve been wanting to do for a while. The reason I haven’t is, though I love Rose-coloured with all my heart and it is very much as good as I can make it, it is lacking some things that make a great blog. So I really needed an example like Julie Powell, who seems to do everything right (in the film; I haven’t read the actual blog; ironic?) for a little segway into the “do as I say, not as I do” territory–onwards!

1. Make it a blog *about* something, ideally something ongoing: a story that readers can follow and get involved in. Political blogs have the right idea: every day something new happens, myriad new things in fact, and the blogger with an informed and interested mind has his or her pick of things to write about that people will be interested in. A travel blog about an extended trip; a parenthood blog about a baby’s first year; a tv blog about America’s Top Model–I’m not saying I would read all of these, but conceptually they are very sound ways to organize a blog. Like some of the above, Julie made her task slightly harder by being herself responsible for the ongoing thing that she would then write about; that’s two tasks, by my count.

Are you already sensing how Rose-coloured doesn’t fit this rubric? Cause the day-by-day “happening” I’m supposed to be covering here is me being a writer, but if I limited posts to announcements of publications and readings, I’d be lucky to post monthly, and if I tried to cover each time I actually wrote fiction, a) I’d never actually write fiction and b) we’d all be bored. Which is why this blog turned out to be a miscellany, linked more or less by the themes of writing, reading, and me (which is of course far too loose–I’m learning to write reviews, but posting one of a shoe is dubiously far from the original theme of writing. Sigh.)

2) Want to do it. Julie’s blog was so satisfying to readers because it was satisfying to *her*–it was her idea and she was proud of herself and eager to share her experiences, thrilled when people related to them. One of the most depressing conversations about the state of publishing I’ve had recently was with a group of writers who felt they “had” to start blogs to promote their books and didn’t want to. They wondered what it would be like, how much work it would be, how many books they would sell. I said I loved my blog, considered it my hobby, and found it little effort compared to what I learn in the process and get back from readers. But I wasn’t sure the blog had in fact sold any books. Someone responded, “Well, discounting “hobbyists” like Rebecca, what do we figure the sales increase would be?” Oh, yeah, I want to read your daily musings. (note: not exact transcript of conversation; I may have added snark).

I hope if nothing else, it’s clear from Rose-coloured that I love Rose-coloured, and look forward to posting. I wrote for months when it was basically Scott and Fred reading, and if all I could keep were those two, I’d go right on. Blogging is my golf, or my knitting, or macrame or whatever; it is the companion to the fiction I write. Yes, I started the blog partly as a publicity thing for the last book, but writing the wide variety of prose I’ve been experimenting with here has also helped immeasurably as I write the *next* book.

3. Post regularly. Julie had 500+ recipes to make and report on in one year; I’m guessing it was a pretty well-updated blog. A blogger can totally set her definition of regularly, from a couple times a day to once a week, to…whatever you want. But I think it is important to set a loose standard that blog readers can expect. Julie rants on the phone to her mom about being accountable to her readers to do what she set out to do, and within reason that is true. You shouldn’t be putting off real life to blog, but as a blog reader, I am so sad when someone who’s daily comment I look forward to goes AWOL for weeks. By the time the blogger returns, maybe I’ve licked my wounds and moved on.

This is why #2 is so important. If you don’t want to blog, you won’t–blogs are not necessary to anything, no one pays you, and friendly readers are only that. You’d be suprised, if you surf around, how many blogs are mainly just apologies for not posting more, interspersed with long silences. And really, the silences are fine–it’s the apologies that are silly. With the advent of Google Reader, I no longer have to go looking for updates on most blogs, because they come to me, which is perfect for those blogs that really are just publication and reading announcements for writers I like. That’s not the way to get a large and devoted fandom or a book deal–but we’re not all after that.

4. Have a personality in your blog. Some bloggers tell everything about their jobs, friends, family and sex lives (I’ve stopped linking to Ms. Trunk even for comments like this; argh!), some talk strictly about their subject matter and never even mention what they ate for lunch, but a distinctive and human (and humourous–Julie made lots of witty asides about her own ineptitude) voice is what draws well, me, anyway, to a blog. You could info on Wikipedia, after all.

5. Read it over before you post. Ok, I have no idea if Julie did this and, ok, I totally get that blogs are new form of nonpublishing publishing and that they aren’t held to as rigid standards as say a newspaper. I’ve seen typos in my own published posts and *let them go* because I know if it was posted more than 3 days ago, the post has probably had most of the readers it is likely to get. But if there are flying leaps of logic, non-sequiteurs to the point of illogic, so many typos things can’t be understood, if there are no paragraphs (common and v. annoying in the blogsphere) it seems like you didn’t care much about the piece at all. So why should the reader?

That’s it–the best Julie and I can come up with with regard to blogging. I know I know: there are like 100 000 blogs don’t conform to all this, including mine, and some are pretty good–please don’t feel like I’m rigid on this stuff. But I do feel that many people get excited by and then frustrated with the blogging experience, and these might be some good ways to keep the excitement going. Anyway, it worked for Julie.

I go where I go on my own two feet
RR

September 13th, 2009

Rose-coloured (and Mark) Review Twix Java

Because I needed to do a brief test run with the lovely digital recorder that Scott lent me (because of the fear I had that I would get someone to do an hour-long interview and then find I out I’d used the recorder improperly and wasted everyone’s time), I decide to alter the usual Rose-coloured Review format. Below is an actual real-time transcription of a conversation between novelist Mark Sampson and myself as we each consumed half of the Twix Java. Of course, for totally honesty, please note that the conversation was intentionally geared towards a critical review. I can’t speak for Mark, but left to my own devices, a transcription of my comments while eating a chocolate bar would consist of “Hooray for chocolate!” and then the silence of concentrated devouring.

RR: We are now going to sample a Twix Java.

(extremely long period of wrapper crinkle noises, followed by chewing)

MS: It’s definitely a different Twix experience. The cookie on the inside is not your standard Twix cookie.

RR: It’s a chocolate cookie!!

MS: It’s a chocolate cookie. And the caramel, the fudgey caramels stuff on top is quite nice.

RR: I think that’s where the coffee is.

MS: Yes, you can definitely taste the coffee in the caramel. But yeah, it’s three layers of chocolate, as opposed to chocolate, caramel, and then some sort of bland cookie.

RR: I think it was a shortbread before. I haven’t had a real Twix in a long time, which is a problem here. I don’t really have a point of comparison.

(reflective chewing sounds)

RR: Mine’s a little melted. Is yours melted?

MS: It is.

RR: I think that’s not the candy bar’s fault, I think it’s that it was in my bag.

MS: Plus it’s about 22 degrees here [note: circumstances of consumption were sitting beside the music garden on Toronto waterfront on a sunny day. Candy enjoyment might, I suppose, vary under circumstances less idyllic]

MS [reading package]: This is a limited edition chocolate bar.

RR: Yes, so this review might actually be useless because now no one can get it. [Further research indicates this to be true {Twix Java does not appear on the Twix website)}. Sigh, another extremely useful review of something no one can get, courtesy of Rose-coloured. Sorry, guys.]

MS [laughing] It’s a collector’s item that you can eat! [more chewing] Definitely good. How did you come to acquire this?

RR: P. bought it at a store called Almost Perfect. Where they sell seconds of food items.

MS: Well, I would say this is a world-class chocolate bar. The closest thing that I could compare this to is a Turtle…those Turtle chocolates?

RR: But they have nuts in them, right?

MS: Yeah. But the caramel in this is similar to the caramel in a Turtle.

RR: It’s honestly not very coffee-ish. I mean, if no one had told me this was Java Twix, I might not necessarily have picked up on it. It does taste a little like coffee but…but not all that much.

MS: [reading label] It says “coffee caramel and chocolate cookie”… I would give this a solid A minus as a chocolate bar.

[digression to discuss Big Turk, Oh Henry, etc.]

MS: Some chocolate bars you eat and it’s not as substantial. This is about medium.

RR: You only got half of itf…. I’m gonna agree with you, A minus…or maybe even an A, because this is lacking all the things I do not like in a chocolate bar, namely nuts.

MS: Yup, no nuts.

RR: There’s nothing inherently wrong with nuts but candy’s supposed to be candy… I think I’m touchy about nuts, I don’t want them *in* things. If I’m gonna eat a nut I’m gonna eat a nut.

***

I’m gonna show my scars
RR

September 11th, 2009

From the department of WTF

This morning, shortly after sunrise, Rebecca is walking home from the gym. She is passed by an extremely tiny jogger in shiny red spandex shorts. Rebecca is listening to Green Day on her iPod. She is relatively content. Suddenly, she feels a tug around her neck. Slowing her stride, Rebecca examines her iPod wires and hoodie drawstring (both of which she routinely mismanages) to find the source of the problem. The tugging increases. Rebecca stops moving, the tug stops increasing but doesn’t go away. She claws at her neck and finds: a noose!

Ok, ok, technically, it wasn’t a noose because it didn’t pull tight, but it was a loop of cord hanging from the tree above my head!!! More like a garrotte, I suppose.

!!!
!!!
!!!

The jogger missed it because she was too short, but it was exactly the right height for yours truly.

I was so alarmed and dismayed to learn that my neighbours were attempting to assassinate me with Robin-Hood-style tactics that I could not disentangle myself from the cord. Suddenly, a woman got out of a car that had been idling in the driveway I was standing in front of–I’m not sure if she was eager to help, annoyed that her dastardly plan had been foiled, or just wanted to pull out of her driveway! Anyway, she got me out of the cord and then, when I gestured that it could not be left this way (yes, that’s exactly what the gesture indicated) she pulled the whole thing down from the tree (it wasn’t bound all that tight) and promised to throw it away.

With no one to arrest and no actual damage done, I went home, in a state of severe discombobulation. Why would anyone want to kill me?

My only theory is that my state of attractiveness is not very high when I am wandering around post-gym, semi-dawn. Perhaps the neighbours think I am bringing down property values? The aforementioned hoodie in fact predates the term, as it was purchased by my father in the early 1990s at BiWay and given to my brother, who did not want it, which is how I ended up with it. So yeah, not a fashion plate, but hardly a cue for murder?

To recapitulate: WTF?

RR

September 10th, 2009

Things you don’t need to know

1) I took a mini-version of the Myers Briggs test and found out that I am an extremely boring person. I forget what the technical name of the personality type was, and they don’t make precise career recommendations, but the impression that I got was that I should definitely not to do anything creative as a profession, although I would likely be excellent at stacking papers into extremely neat piles.

2) In a similar vein, yesterday I was describing an activity someone had suggested. I said to my auditor, “I guess some people would want to do that, but I really don’t get why.” The response? “Human beings, Rebecca: make a study of them.”

3) Small recompense for being a boring non-human, but at least I continue to mouse lefthanded, and am getting better at it everyday. Still can’t use the drawing palette properly with the left, though.

4) Finally, I came to the astounding realization that, since there is no one among my good friends I would refuse to French kiss for hygienic reasons, being worried about drinking out of someone else’s glass is pretty silly.

Gone gone gone
RR

September 9th, 2009

A report on The Dream in High Park

I won’t be doing a real review of the production of The Tempest at Dream in High Park this year. Not because it wasn’t wonderful (it was) but because it’s over, so it would be pretty pointless to offer a review of something you can’t ever go to.

Instead, I wanted to write a bit about the experience of going to the show. I have been a fan of the Dream since coming to TO, and seen most shows offered since (except for last year’s, which was a repeat of the production of *A Midsummer Night’s Dream* from the year prior–baffling since, like me, most Dream devotees like to go every year). It’s always a fine performance in a beautiful spot with an enthuiastic crowd, and this year was no exception.

I had never, however, attended so late in the season as the second-last performance, and the last non-“family focus” one. My viewing companion and I arrived close to 2 hours early, in typical RR can’t-be-too-careful manner, and were glad we did. We got a lovely spot in the tiered-earth amphitheatre (the only sore point of the night was the volunteer insisting on absolutely no photos because “it’s equity”, which I don’t know has much to do with pictures of the amphitheatre). But even at 6:15, those really good spots were dwindling in number.

So we put down the blanket (actually, my Urban Outfitters bedspread from first-year rez) and edged it with a moat of food. Because that’s what people do at Dream while waiting for the show to start–eat elaborate and enormous picnics, and eyeball everyone else’s picnics. For example, for years I’ve seen people drinking wine out of those little stemmed dixie cups, but when I looked it up on the website this year, I found that alcoholic beverages are forbidden…but sure enough the couple to our right and in front had those cuppies, and the people behind us had a pitcher of sangria…I guess it’s ok if there aren’t any obvious bottles?

The thing to do other than eat and picnic-watch was of course people-watch, because there were *so many* there. About 20 minutes before showtime, one of the site managers announced that we were at over 750 people and new arrivals were still…arriving (sentence fail). There were people all over the hillsides, almost into the trees, and in our row we were rather intimate with our neighbours.

It was extraordinary to see perhaps 800 people out on a Saturday night to watch Shakespeare. Especially since they were all ages and demographics, not the feared “all oldsters” crowds of some of the downtown theatres’ “big shows”. The folks to my left were my parents age, quoting Obama when asked if they had room to scoot down (“Can we do it? Yes we can!”) and eating out of an elegantly pack cooler. In front and to the left were an extremely young and conservatively dressed pair on a date, very pleased with themselves and each other. My companion pointed out that two rows ahead was a father playing patticake with a 3-year-old girl. Later, the father and the mother each took responsibility for slathering one half of the child’s limbs in bug spray.

Behind us was my favourite group, 20 people gathered to celebrate a birthday. They had more and better food than I’ve ever seen come out of backpacks (a wheel of brie!), were all in a narrow range of midtwenties but an assortment of sexual orientations, and spent their time discussing a) food, b) alcohol, c) the iron man race the birthday boy had recently run, d) one of the guests’ recent engagement to a man who lives in another city, e) what is the *Tempest* about, anyway?

I love that people in Toronto just know that the Dream is a good time, that it’s fun to watch Shakespeare there not only because you can eat and snog and play with your kids at the same time, but also because these are good lusty plays and CanStage presents them for everyone, not just theatre people.

The Dream is Pay What You Can, so no one should ever miss a show due to lack of funds. And the “recommended donation” is only $20 anyway–an incredible deal.

Sorry, this is still a rave about something you can’t see for another 10 months, after all. But really, mark it on your 2010 calandar!!

I’ll give you three guesses
RR