star struck

I'm not one to get star struck. Not usually. But...I do get a little star struck when it comes to writers. And yesterday...I was in the presence of greatness.

I got to the National Book Festival a little earlier than I had initially planned and so go to take in a couple of other authors I was interested in. But my Saturday plans revolved around getting a good spot at the fiction tent for Sir Salman Rushdie.

I have always been so struck by his writing. He's such a prolific writer, and his words just grab the reader, taking the reader into this world that he creates. His language is rich and vivid, and I've enjoyed reading those books that I have. I recently purchased his new book and hope to begin it within the next few weeks.

As to Rushdie the person, he was very amiable, and funny too. And that just made it better, you know? Especially to have gone through what he's gone through, and to come out still writing books and still be so congenial. And what he's gone through is also a testament to the power of words. Yes, it's cliché, but it's the whole "the pen is mightier than the sword." Words are the inspiration behind the action. I know when I look for inspiration, I look to past speeches and past essays and that's what motivates me to continue or to change course.

It's why I love words and language.

It was definitely a highlight to living in DC. Last year's Book Festival was as well, and the festival is definitely a motivator. Maybe it's just being around all those authors and aspiring writers that the motivation just seeps in. And it was also worth braving the potential rain to head down to the mall and have a chance to hear Rushdie speak.

I'm also looking forward to next year (definitely hoping the festival continues!) and who the author list is going to be. I just wish I'd known about the Festival when I first came to DC for a semester and then when I moved here!

perfect bike weather

And I don't mean that kind of bike. I mean:

I saw at least two people out last night enjoy the cool evening with their bikes. They had the right idea. Some who know me know that I love motorcycles. Yes, I am aware they're dangerous (I've always worn a helmet when I've ridden), but I don't think that's what the draw is. And it's very important to be alert riding them, especially since if you're driving a car, they can seem to come up out of nowhere on the highway, at least in LA that was the case.

I think the draw is similar to why some people drive around in convertibles or with their windows rolled down. It's that rush of air all around you, only multiplied on the back of a motorcycle. And yes, it's even the roar of the engine over everything else. I don't know...it's just...in a word: cool. It's more...free.

My Dad used to have a Harley, and of course, of all the bikes I've since seen, I still like his the best. Even with the short period with shortened Longhorns. I would never have been able to learn to drive on that one though, I could barely stand that thing upright it was so heavy. But I loved riding it. And with last night's weather, I wished that back was here in DC. Well...minus the traffic.

There weren't too many beautiful evenings like yesterday in Texas though to cruise around though. At least on the highways there was enough of a breeze generated to take a little bit of the heat off. Just a little.

I don't drive one, but maybe I should set a potential goal for the time I'm 30 to have my motorcycle license. Or make more friends with people who have them.

I feel so domestic

I have spent nearly most of the day over the kitchen counter and stove, cooking. I made two batches of spinach empanadas for a potluck tomorrow, and another batch of puppy chow (seriously...the greatest thing ever). Granted, the empanadas took a little longer than I thought, seeing as how once I had the filling made I realized I'd forgotten to thaw out the pastry sheets.

I probably could have just gotten away with another thing of puppy chow for the potluck, but I don't want to fall into a rut. And the spinach empanadas I last made junior year and college and remembered them being very good. I just never got around to making them again. So...this was a very good opportunity. But here's one thing I have had confirmed. My oven is weird.

I first started thinking this when it came to baking cookies. Nine minutes or so right? Hmmm...not so much. Unless you count the bottoms of the cookies which were burned. But the tops weren't really cooked all the way through. I've since tried moving the rack all up and down the oven and shifted the pan, but the cookies still get burned. So today, my recipe called for 15 minutes baking time in a preheated oven at 350.

Check.

Only after 15 minutes...my empanadas weren't golden brown. They weren't even slightly golden. I kept checking periodically for the next 15 minutes or so, and even turned the heat up a little bit. Of course, then I got paranoid and thought the bottoms were burnt (they weren't). So...very strange. My recipes aren't usually off that much.

Long story short...my empanadas turned out ok, just took a little longer to cook. So then I took a break and made more puppy chow. This came about since a) they were very popular and b) my officemate wasn't in the day I made them and so I said I'd make them again for the next potluck.

Now what can I make next weekend? The pastry sheets I bought for the empanadas had a recipe for tiny strawberry Napoleons. I'm thinking I may have to try that for the next potluck.

success with the "dog stuff"

"Dog stuff" was how my puppy chow was referred to later in the day. But it was a term of endearment, as evidenced by the fact that there was maybe only a handful or so left at the end of the day.

And it was requested again, so I've decided to make it again next weekend for some birthdays in the office. And hopefully I'll be able to get the regular Jif, though it wasn't bad with the low sugar. I may end up sticking with the Ghiradelli chocolate chips though.

Apparently the other day was National Chocolate Day (how come this holiday isn't more popular?) and truffles and chocolate cake was brought into the office on Friday to celebrate. Mmmm. I have decided I need to look up some recipes for truffles and try my hand. In college several of my friends once made a few different kinds of truffles and they were delicious.

I'm open to suggestions.

puppy chow

I think I may have waxed poetic on the greatness that is puppy chow before, but seeing as how it has come up again, I figured now was a good time for a refresher course.

My office is having a potluck tomorrow and when it came time to think of something that I could a) make a lot of and b) carry to work quite easily and c) appeal to a large group of people, the first thing that came to mind was puppy chow. So I wrote my name down and shortly thereafter, had quite a few questions along the lines of "what are you bringing? What is that?"

Sadly...puppy chow does not appear to be widely known. And I say that because the last time I made puppy chow for a different office in a different building...only one other person knew what puppy chow was beforehand. Though...everyone who tried it will definitely remember it.

I was a little nervous making it this time around because I'd only made it one other time and it's messy. Not to mention that my grocery store didn't have regular Jif. Well, they did, but in a large jar and I haven't really been in a real peanut buttery kind of mood. So I got the low sugar. And then to add to that, there were no regular Nestle chocolate chips. They had semi-sweet, but I was already getting reduced sugar peanut butter.

So...I grabbed a bag of Ghiradelli chocolate chips. Already two things were different than the last time, and the other times my sister has made this (and let me tell you, she makes a mean batch of puppy chow).

I won't get into the whole recipe here, just Google puppy chow and you'll get quite a few variations. Most match what I use, but I saw another one that called for vanilla extract. So it's up to you.

One warning...it doesn't really look appetizing when you make it. The first time I mixed the chocolate and peanut butter together (see picture) I almost called my sister to see if I was making it right. It really didn't look like it would turn into the sweet goodness that it does turn into. But everything turned out ok.

I now have two good-sized containers full of puppy chow to take to work and hopefully will get the same response I got the last time I made it. And for my sake, I also hope that response turns into no puppy chow remaining. It's so hard to stop munching on it.

So if you choose to make it...enjoy! I'll let you know how the office response goes. Wish me luck!

the letter q

I don't know about you, but whenever I put down a q word longer than "qi" on the Scrabble board, I get a very small thrill. It's quite possibly one of the best moments of the game. Other than winning, of course. Or getting a triple word...especially a really good triple word. Oh...how about a triple word with the letter q?

The reason, for me anyway, is when you pull that dreaded q, the thought is "oh...I have to get rid of this!" Because heaven forbid you end the game with a q...since there go 10 points right there. So...usually my go to word of choice? Qi. Which, argue some of you may, is an accepted word.* Common usage people.

So earlier this weekend my word was "quill." It wasn't a standard "quite," "quiet," or "quit." Too bad it wasn't a triple word. I'd even settle for a double letter, but we can't have everything I suppose.

Any other go to words of choice for q? Come on, help a girl out. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before I get another q. Poor q...it has such a bad rep when it comes to scrabble. And I don't know why...but z isn't that bad. Maybe because it's easier to do "zoo," or "zed," than it is to do "quote" or something.

*One beef with the accepted scrabble words I've seen. If qi is going to be accepted, why not zen?

little unexpected things

Yesterday was pretty productive as I ran some errands I'd been meaning to run. But the surprise benefit of being out and about yesterday was a free hair cut. Something else I'd been meaning to get done.

I was out and decided to stop by a salon to pick up a couple of things, and just as I was checking out, a student came out from the school and asked if I wanted a free hair cut because that day was model day and well...they needed some more models.

Ah...so now those stylists standing out on the corner made sense. There'd been several and my first thought was that I'd never seen so many people working there on a Saturday. But...why not? I needed a trim and had been putting it off and putting it off while debating what kind of cut I wanted...but hey, who can say no to a free hair cut?

That made my day. Even if I was a little less than ecstatic about how it turned out, I got the trim I'd been needing and overall my hair looks a lot better. At least I think. Now I can sort of see how my intended style would look, and I think I'll finally go to the salon soon or just wait until I visit Texas again. I used to go to a salon there, and nearly every time I went, even if I didn't have the same stylist, I was sooooo happy with the cut.

But a free hair cut? Totally made my day.

iced coffee

Is it just me, or does iced coffee appear to be the new drink of choice?
It's everywhere now. It's in the windows of nearly every coffeehouse I pass, and not to mention on the sides of buses and bus stops. Just the other day I received an email from a French bakery I love introducing their new iced coffee. And there was a coupon for one for something like $2. Although, isn't that the average price of an iced coffee?
Really, what's so revolutionary about iced coffee? It's easy to make (I make it a couple hours into the day if I have coffee left), and we've had hotter summers that would warrant the news much more than the past few weeks have. And even in Texas, where the heat "is too hot for the devil and too hot for men"* hasn't really had such a prominent display of iced coffee before this summer, from what I gather.
First of all, don't get me wrong. I'm not ranting. I'm just making an observation. I like iced coffee. I buy iced coffee if I'm out, would like something cold to drink and would also like a little pick-me-up. It's just not a revolutionary new drink to me...and yet, it's everywhere. Anyone else noticing this?

*10 points if you know what this line is from. Anyone? :) It's from a poem, Hell in Texas. I think I've mentioned it before, but what can I say? It's entertaining and growing up in Texas...I could relate.

strange sensations...for august

Is it just me, or does it almost feel like fall is here? Or at least fall's trying to make a breakthrough?

Maybe it's just trying to shove its way through the normally hot and sticky month of August. Which I'd have no problem with.

The other day, I had the strangest sensation of fall while walking home from work. Well, I guess it helped that my walk to work that morning was cool and a little breezy.

But since it had rained earlier, a cool, moist feeling hung in the air. But it wasn't thick and sticky, like normal humidity. It smelled fresh, the rain having already cleared away some of the putrid smells of summertime city streets. And because of the clouds, it was more like dusk.* Cars with their headlights only added to this, skipping forward to the shorter days in the months to come. All I needed was a few multi-colored trees lining the streets.

I know. I'm jumping ahead here, but a girl can dream, can't she? I'm hoping, and keeping my fingers crossed, that fall will come sooner rather than later.


*Interestingly enough, when I think of dusk, I think of summer. Maybe it's all those trips to Virginia in the summer when I was growing up. It was practically a family rule that we went out at dusk to catch fireflies. Fireflies signal dusk to me.

a little scottish history

Ok, so here's another book recommendation: How the Scots Invented the Modern World: The True Story of How Western Europe's Poorest Nation Created Our World & Everything in It by Arthur Herman.

I'll start by saying that it was pretty interesting. He looked at several ideas in the education system that eventually led to those great philosophical ideas we study in school and, one person that I knew very well from school, Adam Smith. And then it also described the Scottish culture influenced the US, Canada, and other areas of the British Empire as the Scots left Scotland in waves.

There were a few little known facts, at least to me, that I found fascinating. And this may be because I've always had a fascination with words and sometimes I think I really should have gone to school to become a linguist. For example, the old political party, the Whigs, was derived from a Scots word, whigg. And it's interesting to note that Tory apparently comes from an Irish word. Bu Herman writes "Whigg is Scots for a kind of sour milk or whey....Whiggamore [sour milk men] soon shortened to Whig; in John Locke's day, it referred to anyone bound and determined to have a Protestant succession, whether in Scotland or England."

The Scottish also went South and influenced endearing parts of "Southern" culture in the US. Herman mentions some words that were also generated from the Scottish and parts of Southern culture, which is strange because I wouldn't at first think of it as particularly Scottish.

It's the little facts that I really like. In my Euro class back in high school, my teacher loved the little facts and one of her biggest things were quotes. We had to memorize a quote from a certain time period or in the case of school, from a chapter. But it was fun and they stick with you. I know I've already brought up the Whig party to a few people.

The book is also a fairly quick read. Yes, it's a history book and history can be...complicated. Complicated in that certain people or families keep popping up and you may have to go back and refresh where they came from initially or why they're on one side of history as opposed to the other (even if they may have been on the other). But that's what makes it interested. I think that there could have been more dates in the book as there were a few times when I had to flip back several pages to figure out what time period, since the entire book wasn't chronological. It was for the most part, but when you have a chapter or two on a cultural aspect, time lines are going to flow back and forth quite readily.

I'll try and be better about my book recommendations. Right now my 'to-read' stack is a little daunting. I've got about 11 books stacked up on a console table, not to mention that there are several on my bookshelves that I'd like to reread. Ordinarily I'll read one, and then quickly jump to the next one for that feeling of accomplishment in seeing my stack decrease. And of course, let me know if you have any suggestions.

success!

There's this opera song that I love, but have had absolutely no idea what it was. You may, and probably do, know which song I'm talking about. It's on so many movie trailers and in so many movies as a battle song or just...well, it's a great song to create tension (and patriotic tension at that).

Whenever I hear it I think I need to look it up. And in May when I last saw my sister, the two of us discussed how we need to look it up. But that was a few months ago.

Friday evening I put in a movie and watched the trailer for it, you know, just to get in the mindset of the movie, and guess what song played during the duration of the trailer? Yeah, it was this opera song. And I thought "hmmm...I'm home, with my computer and internet, and I'm going to look up this song now, while I'm thinking about it." Because like all the other times, if I put it off, I'd forget about it.

And I found it. It's "O Fortuna," from Carmina Burana, by Carl Orff. So, for your listening pleasure, here's one video I found on YouTube. Though of course there are many, many videos.



Sound familiar?

what do we need umbrellas for again?

I woke up this morning to a brilliant, clear sunny sky. But I'd heard all weekend about how it was supposed to rain and on NPR today I heard repeatedly about the severe thunderstorm warnings and watches. I knew it was only a matter of time before the skies let loose.

Now granted, I slept in late this morning, much later than usual. But I'd earned it. So I took my time getting up, drinking my coffee and checking my email, but shortly after lunch the bright light pouring in my window faded. A lot. And I still needed to run to the grocery store a few blocks away.

So I threw on some jeans and a T-shirt, left my hair half dry (not that it would matter), grabbed an umbrella and hurried off to the store. No rain. Maybe one or two drops but that was the entire walk to the store. I figured I could grab the things I needed and hurry back home before the rain started.

Not so much.

I looked out the windows when at the check-out and it poured. Not to the point where visibility was impaired, but it was poured in sheets. But I persevered. I figured with my umbrella, I might make it home fairly dry. It was either that or wait around like a few other people were doing. But who knows how long the storm would have lasted. So I hurried home.

A block from the store was the first of many oceans that formed at the end of the sidewalk with no possible way to jump them without landing in their depths. And these oceans formed in the twenty or so minutes I was inside the store. Amazing. Who wants to work with me to dig drainage systems? Or deeper ones since I know there are a few in my neighborhood.

Needless to say I looked like a drowned rat by the time I got home. My jeans soaked up water from the oceans, along with my shoes and socks. Not to mention that the rain was coming in at an angle, so that the only dry part of my jeans was the part my t-shirt covered. Because my shirt was soaked too so it's hard to say how much longer that dry part would have remained dry. And I had some nice little tablespoons of water in my bags (luckily nothing I bought was ruined by water...except maybe the boxes of my granola bars).

And of course my entire walk home, with my umbrella up and me feeling soaked to the bone, I just have to wonder why I'm even bothering.

sorry!

Yes, I'm still here. Sorry for the silence. Last weekend my internet was down for some strange reason (and yes...it was down for the entire weekend). And then during the week for the last two week the days have been a little crazy.

But, I'm still here. And I've got some ideas for some posts so expect them coming up soon. Just wanted to let you know I haven't forgotten about you!

-Patricia

sometimes a greater appreciation comes with age

I'm reading The Historian right now, by Elizabeth Kostova, and because Dracula plays such an important part, I've been thinking it might be time to reread Stoker's book. By the way, I'm only in the beginning of The Historian, so I can't say how much I like it, but so far I'm enjoying it.

Anyway, it's been a very long time time since I read Dracula. And at the time...I really, really didn't like it. I was bored and having read a lot of Anne Rice, all I can say is that Dracula is definitely no Lestat. I prefer the handsome vampires...not the literal living dead ones. So why bother to reread it? I remember what happens and I remember the trials of getting through it (my apologies, Bram). But I have to wonder if maybe I'll like it now.

Around the same time that I first read Dracula, I also read Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms. I thought I would happy to never have to read another Hemingway in my life. I wasn't a fan of his short, staccatoesque sentences, and I definitely was not a fan in his portrayal of women. His women, I felt, needed a backbone. Of course, this was all formed after one book, but at the time...it was enough.

Then, years later, we read For Whom the Bell Tolls in AP English. And here's the strange thing. I dreaded having to read it, but as it turned out, I loved it. I wondered how on earth I had come into the English assignment with such dread. Anyone who's since seen my bookshelves will see quite a few Hemingway titles. He's now one of my favorite writers, and I've read The Sun Also Rises many times over.

So what's my point? My point is that our tastes change. Maybe getting older and having other reading experiences enabled me to enjoy Hemingway more. I'm sure there are others I've read and then later reread and enjoyed that much more, but Hemingway is the best example that I can think of. So maybe I'll enjoy Bram Stoker more, and be able to look past the physical flaws of the main character (reminding myself, again, that he probably looks pretty good for a centuries old walking corpse).

Maybe I will. I'm sure I kept my copy, though it's probably with the rest of my books...in storage under the stairs in Texas. If I think of it, I'll have to look through them next time I'm there. And speaking of Dracula, maybe I missed something. One quick note, this next comment is going to appear rather random.

I remember being pleasantly surprised by the movie League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. I think the main reason is because I wasn't expecting much from it at all after hearing the reviews. And secondly...it was really kind of a cool idea about having all those characters together. But here's what bothered me...a lot. There's one scene where they're outside on the deck of the sub, and guess who's standing there talking without affect. Mina Harker.

Will someone correct me on this? And again, it's been many years and my mind has since been filled with other pieces of information from other books, but I didn't think Dracula could be out in sunlight. I understand that other vampire authors may allow their creatures to do so, but I didn't think Dracula could. Which would mean Mina wouldn't be able to be in sunlight then either. Laugh all you want, but it bothered me.

Maybe it was just poetic license by the screenwriters, but maybe I'm wrong. Maybe Dracula did walk in sunlight. Anyone remember?

I warned you that last comment was random. But if I ever get back to Dracula, I'll let you know if my opinions on it have changed. In the meantime, read some Hemingway.

small acts of kindness

Living in a large city, such as this one, many of us can easily find something (or some things...ok, several things) to complain about. One of them is construction. I've read many urban blogs complaining about the sidewalk and street closings, the noise, the dust, etc., etc. so I know I'm not alone. Near where I live is one of these wonderful sites of what will be, I'm sure, a wonderful building when it's finished. But it's been going on for essentially the last several years I've lived there.

I've learned to live with it. As have most of the people in this area.

But occasionally there will be one beast of a truck (or, like yesterday, a great big cloud of dust that almost makes you wonder what went wrong) that throws just the slightest crimp in an ordinary day. And today was one such day. I'm not complaining because really, so what? I have to cross the street in the middle of the block instead of at the end. It's happened before and it may even be quicker. Depending on traffic of course.

And this morning there was a little bit more traffic than usual. Maybe that's my fault since I left about 10 minutes later than normal. But when I stepped out and waited for a break in traffic, one of the crew ran over and stepped out, stopping traffic. I figured this was for some large truck backing out and knew enough to hurry across and out of the way, taking advantage of the moment.

But when I crossed the street, I glanced back and there was no truck. And the man had gone back to the others. Did he just...stop traffic for me to get across?

I glanced back several times, looking for the truck that wasn't there and you know what? Even if he didn't do it just to let me cross the street, that's what it looked like. And it totally made my day. That's the purpose of this post. It's the small things, the little things that make a difference.

And they say chivalry is dead.

pescetarian? really?

Today I saw an article, and of course I can't find it right now while I'm looking for it, that says that pescetarian is one of the new words to be included in the updated dictionary (along with edamame, finally!). My first reaction: seriously?

Now, I don't want to offend any pescetarians out there, because essentially I am one, but I just tried to think of it in terms of practicality. And maybe that's because I get enough grief from those who love me about being a vegetarian (need I remind you I grew up in Texas). I had this image of announcing that I was a "pescetarian" and the grief I'd get. Or to people who may never have had a romance language.

Me: I'm a pescetarian.
Other person: A pesce...what? What are you?
Me: I'm a pescetarian.
Other person: And what on earth is that?
Me: I'm a vegetarian who eats fish.

Versus the current dialogue.

Me: I'm a vegetarian.
Other person: Oh. Do you eat fish?
Me: Yes.

And then apparently there's this debate on whether or not if you eat fish you can be considered a vegetarian. Maybe I just don't take my status seriously. But my argument, and this has to do with how I was raised culturally, is that you can eat fish on Fridays during Lent, and if you had the same upbringing then you may know you're not supposed to eat meat on Fridays during Lent. Very basic, but it worked when I was about 12 and tried fish for the first time and wondered if I could still call myself a vegetarian (this was during the time I was trying to justify it other than...I don't like the texture)...and oh, how heavenly was that sushi that came shortly after!

At one point I did try to give my specific brand of vegetarianism a name. In junior high some magazine had the different types and I went around telling people I was an ovo-lacto-vegetarian. Translation: I was a vegetarian that ate eggs and dairy. Essentially, not a vegan. And I got strange looks. But then again, this was Texas so maybe the odd looks were from the "vegetarian" part (only kidding!).

Again, I mean no offense. But just my two cents as a vegetarian. We already have labels enough for stuff, do we really need to specify down to the last detail what we eat? And if we do...what about the other things that can't be labeled? After all, there are debates about fish being meat, but what about other animals, like bugs? I'm not in the habit of eating a fried...whatever it was, cricket? But I have had the occasional escargot, and if prepared well, it's delicious. But are snails really meat? I wouldn't put them in the same category as a bull, or even a chicken for that matter. And they're not...fishy, exactly.

Maybe we should start labeling people who don't eat chocolate. After all, that's another important part of the diet. In my humble opinion. Especially dark chocolate (and it's good for you too! theoretically).

j'ai besoin d'étudier

Here is what I discovered after trying to converse in French: I need to study.

Well, let me rephrase that. I need to review. A lot. Excluding the French review class I had (now over a year ago), it's been about six years since my last French class. Really doesn't seem that long. I took a semester of an upper level French class in college and would have continued, except I had to change to Japanese for a year for my minor. And don't get me wrong, I loved Japanese and would love to continue studying it.

But hearing people converse in French, without really thinking about it, reminded me of how much I love French. And I used to be able to speak it a lot better. But that's what practice is for, right? Time to pull out my books and my collections of French poetry and throw myself back into the first language I fell in love with.

The thing is, I have a pretty good grasp of French grammar and a fairly decent sized vocabulary, but when it comes to speaking it, I'm terrified of making a mistake that will sound absolutely horrible that I freeze up and forget the words I'm trying say. So...I just have to get comfortable with speaking it again.

Easy as that, huh?

On a side note, the radio is talking about a cold front coming in over the weekend, which I'm finding highly amusing. I hear "cold front" and I think gusts of northerly winds that will drop the weather to the 50s, maybe 40s. High 80s really doesn't sound like a cold front to me. But of course, it's all contextual since at least it means it won't be in the 90s.

now this could be fun

Dubai plans 'moving' skyscraper

Make sure to watch the video too.

How fun would that be? Both to walk down the street and watch the building move and then also to live inside one and have your view constantly changing. There's this restaurant in Big D (and I'm sure many other places as well) that's at the top of a tower and revolves around to look over downtown Dallas. And it's always seemed really cool.

And I bet that would make for a beautiful and chic housewarming party. I would really like to know more about how that works. The article goes into a little bit, but at one point I used to want to study architecture, and that part of me wants to really understand the nuts and bolts.

And $3.7m to $36m is quite a range. I wonder what the penthouse's view would be. Pretty spectacular I'd wager. Especially at night.

finding admiration in the object of irrational fears

I have an irrational fear. Probably several, but the one that I thought about today was my fear of sharks. Yes, I realize that I have a greater chance of dying by being struck by lightening than being attacked by a shark. I realize that given the whole world with its huge population, on average there are about 100 shark attacks.

But what can I say? I was a Jaws fan growing up. For some inexplicable reason.

And that is why I never learned to surf those years in California, even though I really, really wanted to. So that's my irrational fear.

I bring this up because despite my irrational fear, sharks are, for lack of a better word, cool. Very, very cool.

I think they're fascinating. And this morning I came across this article about whale sharks (which it should be pointed out do not attack humans), that had this to say: "Monster sharks can execute underwater 'flight' moves that would have put some fighter pilots to shame...."

The sharks are normally placid when close to the surface, but when they dive into depths not easily reached by us, they can be quite...oh let's say acrobatic.

There was another link to an article on a "fossil" shark captured on film that was oddly in shallow enough waters to be seen a caught (and if you look at the picture...it does kind of look like a fossil). This article, along with the media buzz on the colossal squid, are just one of several reminders that there is so much we don't know, about the depths of the ocean and even the specimens we do have access to. Again, looking at the whale shark and beginning to find out all this information that was unexpected.

There's so much we don't know, in all of our thousands of years of observations and study. And I, for one, look forward to the next discovery.

author recommendation

I recently finished reading Jhumpa Lahiri's recent novel, Unaccustomed Earth, which was incredibly beautiful, as her writing generally is. I was first introduced to Lahiri through her first book, Interpreter of Maladies. I picked it up after hearing a lot about it, and because it was to be a phenomenal collection of short stories. I wanted to read more short stories since it's a type of writing I'd really like to work on.

But back to the purpose of this post. In Unaccustomed Earth, Lahiri returns to the short story and her writing is poetry. It flows and, at least from what I recall, there wasn't a single unnecessary word. And I particularly liked the last section where the first stories are told from first person, and then the next, told in third, really joins the two characters and becomes their story, and not just hers or his. I think that was a really neat tool to use.

I know, but as I'm writing this, I can't come up with a better word than "neat." I'll have to come back and edit, but I'm writing this as I go, with whatever comes to mind.

With some of the stories, and her previous works, at first glimpse it may not seem like I can relate to her characters. I don't have that cultural struggle that comes from being an Indian set into a different culture either here, in the US or in England. But she really illustrates that, without "telling" us it was difficult or awkward. That awkwardness comes through the writing and the reader feels it. And I would imagine that might hard to do.

But the cultural background, while a large part, is only part of the story. The characters themselves are multi-faceted and their stories can happen to anyone, and do I'm sure.

Lahiri is a wonderfully gifted story-teller, and whenever I read her books shortly after their release, I just really, really look forward to the next one. But as I know, writing is a process. A long one. So it'll take some time but the wait is worth it. Thinking more on it now too, I'd have to describe her writing as calm. It was like...the pace of what I'd imagine a bard telling the story to be like. Slow and melodic, and engaging. Very, very engaging.

I highly recommend Lahiri's works. All of them are equally poignant, so start from the beginning, the end or pick up The Namesake, the novel in the middle of the two short story collections. Just enjoy on a lazy afternoon or maybe as the sun sets at the end of a long day. And I, for one, will be waiting for her fourth book.