A Personal Reminder: I Don't Hate My Job

While I use the blog as a place to vent, (among other things), I do have to remind myself that I do work for a start-up, with some good friends (old and new), and at a place with a huge potential for growth.

I have to remind myself that I'm capable to do what I'm doing, that everything is a work-in-process, that maybe I wish I could make more money but I know what's in the pipeline and I understand the nature of a new company. I know that I'm not being screwed over, and that I wouldn't be doing what I'm doing unless I enjoyed the work. And the flexibility I have, my goodness. I get to work at home. Which is wonderful (but also insane). Bonus: Working in PJs.

Even though I've had my disagreements with co-workers, I have learned to speak up and we all communicate on the level, that it's okay to be vocal if you are not okay with what's going on. That any weird hangups I have working with a bunch of dudes need to go away, that I'm just as important as anyone else on our team.

I need to remember that we are all on the same page, working for the same goals, and part of the same team. And I like those bastards, damnit.

(*thanks to one of my amazing co-workers for writing up a little something that made my day better, & let me breathe.)

Villa America by Liza Klaussmann: A Review

There is always a certain charm existing in novels that take place during this era. The first notions of stripping away puritanical ideals, reveling in the Jazz Age, freedom to drink, freedom to have sex (as one so chooses), freedom to make art and let art be your calling.

 

It's idealized, certainly, an existence of the wealthier set, but there is truth to this historically based novel Villa America, taking place on the French Riviera in the home of Sara and Gerald Murphy, American expats who welcomed the likes of Hemingway, the Fitzgeralds, and Picasso into their home.

Sara is motherly and wise, and charming and beautiful and all these wonderful things. Gerald longs for something, and this novel assumes that something is a repressed sexuality, but I'm not quite certain if there is any historical evidence for this notion. However, it's a good, albeit possibly needlessly dramatized story of the 1920s and these amazing people that populated that era.

The author acknowledges it is very much fiction, so we can forgive that. There's a value to this, if you are a fan of The Great Gatsby and the riotous fakeness of it all, the temporal beauty fueled by alcohol and obsession, the players in the story knowing how fleeting, how fictitious, this crazy existence is and living it more loudly and vibrantly for it.

This book is that. A story of a time, of an era. Makes you want to go back and consider the Lost Generation all over again, outside of the context of high school requirements. And Jebus, look how beautiful it all was:

(*ARC received free via Shelf Awareness for review.)

Gerald and Sara Murphy.
(from The New Yorker)

Zelda Fitzgerald






 

OMG LMFAO, SMH, FML. #beer

LMFAO.

Right? Right. I’m totally LMFAO right now, because this is ridiculous.  Uncle and nephew duo (yeah, you read that right) of the electronic dance music group LMFAO are apparently pretty pissed off that Pigeon Hill Brewing is taking advantage of their Party Rockin’ success and infringing on their quality name by calling their stout "LMFAO Stout" (aka Let Me Fetch An Oatmeal). Because, someone might think that the band brewed the beer, or that Redfoo and Sky Blu wholeheartedly endorse this particular stout when obviously they prefer champagne (showers.. pop, pop, pop it in the club. Ahem.)

HOW LONG DO WE NEED TO BE SHUFFLING, PEOPLE? Seriously, is this really a thing?  Is this really a point of confusion? Has LMFAO recorded anything after 2012? No, nope of course not. What this is is trigger-happy lawyers that jump on trademark disputes quicker than you can say “I’m sexy and I know it.”

Let’s talk about trademark law right quick. Here’s what’s up. Yes, the trademark owners (or their representatives) are required to police and monitor the use of their trademark. There is no office that will do that for them; the responsibility is solely up to them. So trademark owners are correct to be aware of organizations that are infringing on their namesake. But what exactly is trademark infringement? It’s the commercial use of the same or similar mark by another that is “likely to cause confusion” among actual or potential customers of the products or services at issue. 

Are we confused?

LMFAO (Stout)

LMFAO (Music People)

Probably, but not for the reasons for which trademark law would apply. 

Anyway, LMFAO Stout was so named as the result of a social media search, invoking silly internet slang for fun. Which, I’m fairly certain, was around before this duo.

To conclude, all you really need to do is read this response from Ms. Sheila Eddy from Smith, Haughey, Rice & Roegge, Pigeon Hill’s legal representatives:

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, yeah.

*no ill will against LMFAO (the band), by the way. But really-this is kind of ridiculous.

UPDATE : Amicable solutions are in the works, and everyone enjoys good beer. I figured gents who make this totally zany, cray (though well-produced) music couldn't be total douchebags. I was skeptical of the lawyer, because- lawyers, but it seems like it's all gonna be alright.

 

This IS how I write, damnit.

So,
  I've been listening to Rough Draft on Rainmaker.fm, a short little daily podcast that's writing tips, tricks and other things for digital marketers, and I'm digging it. This episode was pretty good. All about being a plain-spoken writer, and the value of learning to do this sort of thing.

That's how I write. Because I've figure out that trying to 'fancy up' my shit doesn't make it authentic or interesting and no one really cares how many big words I know. Especially with writing content for web. No one has an attention span. People want something direct, to the point, but they also want it to have a voice that they can relate to.

Basically, this podcast is reminding us that we don't write with an instinctual nature, especially for publication. Because once it's out there, it's out there, and we are scared of it. That's why I love having this blog, because I told myself I don't care about how many people are reading this and what they think of me. I am writing to write and get things off my mind and because I enjoy writing. It's a help, allowing me to do that with my work as well.

BUT- we speak, naturally. So write as if you are speaking.

Here's my gripe, okay? We have a good editor. We do. He's great, smart, English major, all that jazz. Totally beyond me. I know my work will always need editing, and that's totally fine. But sometimes my pieces lose my voice in that process. It's not my writing anymore, and it makes me in turns sad, angry, and defiant.

I want to give examples, but I'm not going to. But suffice to say, I don't write/talk that way.

What's a girl to do?

Probably nothing beside complain here, because I need a paycheck. 

The Martian by Andy Weir — A Review

I think we are automatically fascinated by stories about space travel, leaving our planet, exploring new worlds. We seek to find answers, something bigger, something beyond our little lives. Leaving this Earth is one of the biggest, baddest ways to do that, right?

Right. That wasn't really a question, it was a statement, but please take a few minutes to ponder our tininess.

Alright, so here we go.

The Martian by Andy Weir fits this bill. An everyman, Mark Watney, is also a botanist and an astronaut. He is part of a Mars mission, not the first, but a continuation in a series of eventual colonization. Our dream, currently. SpaceX and all that. Very timely.

Something bad happens. He is left behind. He should be dead, but he is not.

Mars is far away. Help is far away. This is a stranded person on the biggest, most remote island ever. Not even the luxury of a tropical beach and coconuts.

Surviving is such a human thing. It's our nature, it's what we strive for, automatically. It's instinct. That's part of the gravity (ha, see what I did there?) of this book. That's partly why it's been a best seller. It's so inherent. All the themes within this book, despite all the fun technical clever solutions and space talk, it's the core themes- exploration, survival, and, most importantly, the realization that our humanity is so very small but so very, very vital.

Space is boundless. It's outside, within us, above us, beyond us. We are little bits of space,between all those molecules in our atoms. These big broad themes are within us, and we relate.

I like these concepts. I liked the book. I'm not going to say it's the best writing, because it's not, or the most original concept, it's not, but it's engaging. Even if you aren't finding all these big conceptual things within it, it's still a good, quick read. I'm just being introspective these days, ha.

And, honestly, I think the movie might be pretty decent, because the text in the book is written like audio logs from Mark, so it leaves a lot to the imagination. You leave him at a critical moment, and then he comes back. The action in-between will make for good screen fodder, and I have faith in Ridley Scott, hehe.

 But do give the book a read. You should always give the book a read.

Cheers.

Bar Story #2

It's hot. It's hot and narrow and slippery. You get messy. The trash can is filled with remnants of uneaten meals, and you find yourself judging faceless, nameless people by the amount and type of waste they send back. (The pork chop comes with kale and succotash. Apparently, you just wanted the pork chop. This is why you are fat. You're probably fat. Or at least have a high chance of heart disease in the future.)

I've concluded that this may be the least glamorous thing one can do in a kitchen. But also an important part of the organization, the flow, that keeps the whole system moving. You can't cook unless you've got enough pans, right? Dishwasher.

A full house, 40 person reso (that's reservation, for you non-restaurant folk), and a sick dishwasher meant I spent my evening last night in the smallest kitchen in the world, working alongside my husband and his sous chef. Doing dishes.

I'm lazy, and spoiled with a job that means I pretty much do what I am doing right now all day (sitting on my ass, typing things), so I kind of like stepping out of my normality every once and awhile. And I enjoy watching the dance in a more intimate way, and hope I don't screw it all up.

The dance is this:

The tickets come in. The sound that haunts cooks in their dreams, that old school printer sound, one after another after another. Orders are read, loudly, and the tickets put on the rail. Everyone moves. I move out of the way.

"Behind!"

"Open Oven!"

"Hot Pan!"

"On Your Left!"

"Four, All Day!"

"Dropping Fries!"

You need to be aware in a kitchen, any kitchen. You need to know what everyone is doing, at all times. A good team knows each others' nuances, their movements and strides, what they will do and how they will do it. A good team can effortlessly dodge each other and any obstacles in the way.

A good team learns their kitchen. Each has it's own quirks and eccentricities:

-The health inspector says we have to have the drain just so, but it's a crappy drain and if you change the sani-water (Sanitizer sink, takes care of any yucky germs), and don't remember to check the drain, you'll be mopping up gallons of spilled liquid in the middle of dinner service, and everyone will hate you.

-This kitchen is so tight on space that everything needs to be exactly where it is, at all times. Don't mess up the organization because it works better for you. It's not about you.

A good team also has a mix of Pandora or Spotify stations constantly blaring that are in turns annoying, loud, hilarious or a combination of the three.

After the 1st rush and I burn my hand on a hot pan because I'm an idiot (and spend the rest of my evening alternately washing dishes and plunging my scalded flesh into a bucket of ice water so I can then ignore the pain when I stick my hand back into super hot and soapy water to finish my job), three shots of delicious house-infused liquor appear, which we all take two seconds to toast and chug before the printer starts up again.

I am gross and disgusting at the end of the evening, but all the Front of House girls say I am the cutest dishwasher that's ever worked there and they like me the most.


So, there's that.

Another Day by David Levithan — A Review

So I decided I had to get up on my NetGalley/ Ebook reading, though I prefer physical copies. Regardless, NetGalley is an awesome program and if you are all good with digital, please please check them on. Okay, on to the review.

Another Day by David Levithan is the 2nd book in his Every Day series, I'm led to believe, having not read the first one. You can definitely read this as a standalone, so don't let that stop you if you pick this up.

Following the story of A from their love interest, Rhiannon’s, perspective, this YA book deals with the issue of love, what that really means,how much you want to let it change you, and how you deal with the things you cannot change.

I don't want to give it away, if anyone happens to pick this up first, but I can say it has a unique, fantasy element that remains wholly tangible, something you can grasp and understand, because under the current of strangeness is the emotions of first love and confusion we all recall feeling.

I read this one awfully quick, in a good way. It caught my attention after the first chapter. Rhiannon's character is initially in a relationship with Justin, a boy at her school. She loves and hates him, wants to be near to him and forces herself to keep a distance to pacify his temperamental, independent attitude towards her and his life in general. The wrestling with the conflict of feelings and the discovering of your own self-worth and what you value, who you are and what you really deserve are familiar for anyone, like me, who has once been a teenage girl.

A's varied personas and appearances are all over the place. Ugly, fat, thin, handsome, boy, girl. It's perfect, a great device that asks the reader to determine what is it about someone that makes you want them, love them?

Ultimately, this book is about the nature of affection, of love and the centrality of that rush of emotion, that desire and pull on your heart that makes you feel whole. It asks you to ask yourself: "Do I want that thing that makes my every day my Every Day? What would I be willing to do to find it?"


(*digital ARC received free via NetGalley for review.)

Bar Story #1

Opening the outside door slowly, I whispered, "Does he wake easily?".

She looked up, wide-eyed, while the baby's eyelids fluttered and the bottle almost fell from his mouth. "No, honey. Come on out with the baby." She looked down at her grandson's face. "And I don't care if he does wake up."

I know the baby, the son of a server who lived above the bar. I told her as much, and brought my baby out to scamper across the concrete awkwardly on the balls of his feet and his hands, walking probably another month away.

It was warm and breezy, and perfect. My baby was trying to eat rose petals and I was drinking an old-fashioned. She talked to me, asking polite things, the age of the baby, my husband's name, what I did for a living. All those things you say to someone you don't really know and don't really care about knowing.

I looked at the baby in her lap, eyes open now, watching mine watching him. How long are you visiting for?

Just til 6, she says. I wish it was longer. I wish I didn't live so far away. A 5 hour drive, she told me. But, of course, it was worth it. It was her grandbaby.

When someone is so very happy in the moment but knows it won't last, and it will always be temporal, their face can't hide it. The sadness in the eyes overshadows everything else.

She told me she wished it had worked out between 'the kids', and she was worried when she found out her grandbaby was living above a bar. Which, I said, was a reasonable worry.

But now that she made it here, and she saw the apartment and light and brightness of the place, visited the restaurant and met the people who are now part of that little baby's life in some way, (like me, she said), she felt a lot better.

I thought about my married life and two kids and the unabashedly amazing wholeness of love that my husband's parents give my boys, and what it would be like for them if all my husband and I shared was just the children, not a marriage.

"We all here, you know?" I said, too quickly, without explanation. I backed up. "I mean, everyone here, we love that baby. We're here. For his mom, if she needs us. And for him. I'm so glad you were able to come and visit him here." I didn't want her to worry, I wanted to reassure her, of something, a community, an extenuation of not-quite-family but at least support, friends, more than drinks in the afternoon at the bar.

She smiled and said she was glad, and asked me where to take the baby for a walk, because she wanted to avoid the busy main streets. I told her behind the building, parallel to the train tracks, the roads were not well traveled, shady and quiet. That she should take a walk there.


            *****

*I like to observe people. I'm at bars and breweries and restaurants quite often. Hence, Bar Story. I hope to continue this over time, see where it goes.

The Life and Death of Sophie Stark by Anna North - A Review

The Life and Death of Sophie Stark focuses on a brilliant, yet odd woman who garners attention based upon her strange and well received avant-garde films. Told through narrative by the people who have surrounded her, her voice is always secondary, but it doesn't matter. It's still beautiful, wonderful prose and intense, brief observations and moments of life. You can obviously assume the ending based upon the title, but it doesn't ruin a thing.

Sophie is a catalyst for others to project themselves on, for the individuals in her life to dissect and access their own memories, feelings, and sense of self. That doesn't mean she isn't fully fleshed out, a brilliant and powerful character in her own right. She remains an enigma, to the reader and to those who surround her.

And that's perfect, because you aren't supposed to have an intimate knowledge of her. She is sparse, forthright, doesn't mince words or say anything besides what she wants to know. She is so wholly introspective, so focused on showing the world her way through her films, that she doesn't give a fuck about niceties, societal norms or really, anyone else. Her camera is her barrier between herself and the rest of the world. When she wants someone to enter, she let's them, but it's always temporal, it can never be long-term, it can never be forever. Sophie is too lost to let anyone in too long.  She hurts, but it's not visible often.

Everyone is broken and real, the weirdness soothing and reassuring for the reader. Maybe we are okay after all.

One Of Those 'Girl' Books

Reaching the conclusion of 'The Girl On The Train' on audiobook. The story itself is engaging, building slowly and exploding at the end (insert comparison to Gone Girl here, yadda, yadda). It's a good, quick thriller, with characters that are COMPLETELY unlikeable, which is fun.

Seriously, everyone in this book kind of sucks.

It's not earth-shattering, really, not as amazing as so many say, but I wouldn't not read it. The hype probably made it a little lackluster in comparison, which seems to be what happens when most things are so hyped up.

Suggestion..if you want to check this out and you haven't yet, listen to the audiobook on your phone with earbuds in, as you push your crying baby in a stroller back home. Because the earbuds let you hear the book without disturbing anyone else. And hearing the baby.

No, but for real, the audiobook cast is really good.

Apparently, the word 'Girl' in a title of a book makes a book sell. 

The Girl on the Train with the Dragon Tattoo who is Gone Who Wore Pearl Earrings and Loved Tom Gordon

Next best seller, friends.

Armada by Ernest Cline — A Review

Okay, I am nerdy. Pretty nerdy. Not as nerdy as the husband, but pretty close. I'm not a big gamer, but I end up being a gamer-by-proxy because of the older boys in my household. So. I'm fairly knowledgeable about most video game-type things.

Starting Armada, I wasn't that into it, not like Ready Player One, which kind of right off the bat had me hooked. I like post-apocalyptic dystopia ugly reality type settings. This one took a little longer for me to get into.

Armada follows Zack Lightman, a dreamer and video game geek/guru. He even works at used video game store (my husband's dream job, haha). The strangeness starts early, when he sees a flying saucer, exactly like the one in a video game called Armada he just happens to be hooked on.

Digging deeper, he uncovered his deceased father's notes regarding a great gaming conspiracy (I totally learned about Polybius, which was a neat story) and it turns out to all be true. Gamers are training to save the world. 

Full of sci-fi/fantasy geeky references, it can be a bit off-putting for the casual reader who picks this up. I, however, cringingly realized I knew or at least understood most of them. I enjoyed the book as a whole. It's not too difficult to discern where everything is going, but it was a fun, breezy read regardless.

I appreciate Cline's influences, because they are so much my own world and he is obviously passionate about many levels of geekdom. I recently watched Atari:Game Over and he makes an appearance for what has to be one of the greatest solved video game mysteries of all time. He shows up with a full size E.T in the passenger seat of his car. His DeLorean. With that level of dedication, you know he knows his nerd stuff.

Which is one of the reason's Ready Player One worked so well, and why Armada is a worthwhile second book to check out if you are a fan of his first novel. Don't expect crazy depth here, but you'll get a good ride.

So long, nerds.

(Oh! And the inside jacket is totally blueprints for the fighter. Pretty cool.)


(*This book was received for free from Blogging For Books for review.)

I stay busy.

A previous writing gig: Joe Short from Short's Brewing, myself and the magnificent photog Steph Harding. See how busy we stay?

The newest article I've written (on beer, of course) is up at growlermag.com. This one came as a surprise from my friends over at Brewery Vivant. I love that they think of me when something comes up.  Check it out, if you are so inclined.

Meanwhile, I'm off to write website content and corral my baby #writingisawesome #babiesarecrazy

The Curse of Crow Hollow — A Review

In the mood for something a little spooky and a little southern? And, somehow published by an offset of a Christian publisher but not even remotely preachy, just kinda gothic and dark? Then you should read The Curse of Crow Hollow.

Following a couple of typical, small town teens who live in 'Crow Holler', this book entrenches you in the mountains, in this tight-knit, narrowly defined world surround the characters. The narrator's voice reminds me of listening to my Appalachian relatives talk. You hear the drawl, the shortening of words, some 'a-verbing' here and there. It sets the tone immediately, and the pace of the story slowly builds until chaos reigns and darkness surrounds everyone and everything.

The story is thus:
There's a witch in the woods, off in the mountains. Everyone knows Alvaretta Graves isn't to be messed with, but teens off having fun fear too little. A birthday party gone awry, Cordy, Scarlett, Hays and Naomi unleash something upon the town that must be confronted, with prayer and bibles, guns and redemption.

It's a great mash of genre bending strangeness. A little faith, a little horror, a story of family and friendship, the story of place. The macabre and typical mix wonderfully. The tone is what really does it for me, makes Crow Hollow so vivid, so much like the mountain towns I encountered in my youth. Superstition and a strong Christian faith combine to make folks believe some mighty strange things, and become fiercely loyal to those they love.

Pretty prose and an underlying uneasiness make this a great starlit evening read.   

*(I received this book for free for review from Shelf Awareness.)

WORK AGH!

So I have been crazy busy with my 'make money consistently' job, which, by the way, I'm learning to love a little more.

So that's why I haven't written much of anything last few days. But a full blog post will be coming soon, a review of The Curse Of Crow Hollow, which was a fun read. And a weird read.

So, there's that. Soon.

I'm at the point right now where I have just too much work that makes me want to work harder, and I LOVE that. Also, I have someone who offered to stop in and be my 'Mother's Helper' a few days a week. He came today for the first time, and I officially want to adopt him. Took both kiddos to the park, kept them entertained, and stayed for three whole hours. He returned my baby exhausted, and he's now sleeping.

#winning. SO MUCH WINNING.

Alright, off now to get more of this crazy work stuff done. YAY PRODUCTIVITY!

LOVE IT.

Ta.

Another Old Writing Piece.

Thanksgiving dinners with strangers

who share your home

blood and bone

hair intertwined

my sisters, my brothers

scraping together dimes

thrift store clothes and nights too long

bled into longer days

summer sun

then winter's come

with holes in our shoes

and it's too late now

rivers flood

porch beers

and I know you miss your mom

Come home come home

highways and roads

Mackinac, Saginaw

Battle Creek

then back again

My Michigan

My Michigan

Come back again.

Writing Exercise From Long Ago

(this is a short writing exercise someone sent me quite awhile ago..basically take 15 minutes and just write down what you believe, being honest and immediate. Here's what I came up with, and it's pretty valid, still. Still.)
 

I Believe:

• that while my past is always with me, I am not beholden to it
• in living a life with purpose and deliberateness
• that money is not the goal, but it does make life easier
•  motherhood is not the end all, be all. Love it, embrace it, but don't drown in it
• sorrow is therapeutic
• happiness is earned
• my words have value-spoken or written
• in action- I am responsible for changing what I want to change
• in awareness of others and their intents, goals and desires. Being conscious of how you walk in the world makes the world a better place for everyone
• in seeking out the unique, the different
• the objects in your home should tell a story-your story, your family's story- not Target or Ikea's story
• in doing what you can, with what you have, where you are
• success is individually defined. There is no universal definition
• food and drink are some of the most joyful things in this life and I do my best to respect them
• that 'right' and 'wrong' are not black and white
• in the power of a story. Your story, my story, everyone's story