Showing posts with label whinge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label whinge. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 03, 2010

ANGRY JENNIE

Two book-related things today that have me all in a dither:

1. Amazon hasn't put the MacMillan titles back yet. There's a book I need for class and I need it next week. None of the local library systems I use carry it. I can't get to an independent until this weekend, when we're supposed to get 17 inches feet of snow, so even if they ARE open, I won't be able to get there. I could get to Barnes and Noble tomorrow night, but they don't have it at the store, so I had to order it from their website. And pay shipping. (I have Amazon Prime. I don't pay for shipping.) Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

2. I live within walking distance of a branch of my local library. Given that I spend all day every day at a different library in a different system, I usually don't browse. I usually just look up books that my work-system doesn't own or has a long wait for, and put them on hold in my home-system. I went to pick up a book after work today (Yes, I went from one library to another. I am that nerdy.) Now, they have all the hold books on shelves near the check out desk so you can just go over and find yours and bring it up to the desk. I know this is a hot new trend in libraries right now but...

I will probably STOP using the Arlington libraries because of this. It is such a HUGE breach of reader's privacy and given that I pretty much ONLY use them for hold books and I just can't agree to this system... bad bad bad. Yes, they shelve the books spine down, so it's harder to see what the books are, but that just makes it easier to see who has a book on hold and it's not that hard to flip through and see who's requesting what.

Personally, I'm not very private in my reading habits (which you know, as I blog about EVERYTHING I read right here) but the principle of the thing has me very shaken up and upset and pissed off.

I'm more annoyed at the Amazon/MacMillan thing because they're private businesses and while they're both being stupid, well, it's business and they can do that.

The library, however, is breaking the ALA's Code of Ethics:

We protect each library user's right to privacy and confidentiality with respect to information sought or received and resources consulted, borrowed, acquired or transmitted.

So, I will be writing a letter to the director of the system and seriously rethinking my library use (Because, I do spend all day at another system, so I'm a bit privileged here, I know.)

But here's the thing-- just two years ago, Arlington libraries had a PR flap about this very thing. And, unlike the branch in the article, these books had no covering, the only concession made to privacy was the books being shelved spine down, which may have not had anything to do with privacy at all-- it makes finding your name (and your neighbor's) much easier...

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

Monday? NO! Tuesday!

I love 3 day weekends, except then I'm always off for the rest of the week. Let's see if tomorrow I remember it is Wednesday (so must go to work in the morning) instead of Tuesday (when I go to work in the afternoon.)

Also, this weekend, I managed to seriously (well, not hospital-serious, but serious enough it's totally gross to look at and I can justifiably whinge about pain) mangle a toe on BOTH feet, in 2 separate incidents. Really. Saturday night was my right foot, last night, my left. Oiy.

But... let's talk books, shall we? Today's review is about a book written for adults, except I first read it at 11 or 12 or around there and loved it. I have been looking for this book for years and finally figured out (well, Sean figured out) what book it was. So, I reread it. I'm happy to say that, for the most part, it stands up to reread AND! I found out that it was actually the first in a trilogy. WooHoo!

Bring Me the Head of Prince Charming Robert Zelazney and Roger Sheckly

Every 1000 years, the forces of Good and Evil hold a contest. The winner controls man's destiny for the next millennium. Anxious to get out of duty in the Pit, Azzie is the demon in charge of Evil's entry. He has a budget, an assistant, and a drive to win. Azzie's plan involves building a princess and Prince Charming and have them act out the tale of Sleeping Beauty, but with disastrous consequences. Of course, nothing goes according to the plan.

Bring Me the Head of Prince Charming is funny, and almost a fantasy spoof. It very consciously plays with some of the fantasy genre mainstays. It's very silly, but in a smart way. I loved it as a kid and very much enjoyed it as an adult. There are a few things that I understand now that I'm pretty sure I didn't get then--nothing content wise, but some mythology and Citizen Kane references/allusions. I think I appreciated the silliness more when I was younger, but this was an extremely pleasant reread--I'm very glad I found this story again.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

I hate my life

No Elif Shafak for me.

There's some nasty weather going on. My way from work to Politics and Prose overlaps with my commute home. I left work at 5:45. I got to the splitting point in the where I had to decide: reading? or home? at 7. I knew by the time I got to the bookstore, I would have missed the event.

I got home at 7:50. I live 10 miles from work.

Ergh.

But, for once in my life, I voted for a winner!

Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Hanging out at Home

Fun new developments in my world: STREP THROAT! Ergh.

So, because I'm all contagious until I've been on my meds for 24 hours, I'm at home today. La la la la bored. Dan suggested curling up on the couch this afternoon with the dog and some cocoa and watching a movie while the world falls apart outside (we're supposed to get some weather today) but... the main symptom of me being sick is me feeling very contrary and nothing we own or on TV sounds good to watch. Y'all are lucky I'm home alone today. CRANKY CRANKY CRANKY PANTS.

I just got mad at the refrigerator for failing to magically provide cranberry juice even though I know full well that I drank it all last night. WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY FRIDGE DOESN'T MAGICALLY MAKE THE FOOD I WANT? SINCE WHEN?

See, even in blog land, I'm all shouty. Maybe because I have strep, so I can't shout in real life.

Anyway, let's talk about some books, shall we? Today we feature a book written for grownups.

Olive Kitteridge: Fiction Elizabeth Strout

Interestingly, my copy is not subtitled fiction, but rather "a novel in stories" which is more descriptive. For Olive Kitteridge is indeed a collection of short stories, all revolving around the small town of Crosby, Maine or its dominating title character, Olive.

I don't think I've ever read a book before with the elderly as main characters.

Olive is loud and outspoken, moody and unexpectedly and quietly kind. We first meet her in a story largely about her husband and his relationship with an employee as juxtaposed with the his relationship with his wife. We then see her as she talks to one of her former students, a young man who has returned to main to kill himself. We see Olive briefly in a story about a troubled piano player. There are two stories that focus on her son and how Olive effects his relationships with women. There are two stories (one strongly featuring Olive, the other one only having her make a brief appearance) with two different takes on how a marriage changes in the empty nest years.

Throughout the book, Strout offers us a glimpse into the tangled and troubled lives of people in a small town, where everyone knows everyone else. She compassionately tells the stories of people caught in a changing world they don't always understand. She tackles grief and pain and the emotions of aging with a steady and clear hand.

Overall, she tells a wonderful story about a complicated woman--a week after reading the book, I still can't decide if I like Olive Kitteridge or not. Overall, a compelling and strong read.

Publication Date: April 2008

Full Disclosure: ARC provided by Random House through Library Thing's Early Reviewer Program.

Friday, October 19, 2007

autumn leaves were turning to the color of her hair...

I am not happy this October. October should be about sweaters and the smell of neighbors with fireplaces enjoying them. October is crunching leaves and pumpkin pie and early bathches of mulled wine.

October is not in the high 70s. (Really DC? High 70s? In October? Why do you hate me so?)

le sigh

I am a northern girl at heart.

But, in books, things are different. My picks for October are up at the Biblio File Store. Be sure to check those out and support my book habit.

Here is today's poem. It's really a song. Lots of people have sung and I'm not sure who wrote it. It contains my favorite lines about fall When you knew that it was over/ Were you suddenly aware/ That the autumn leaves were turning/ To the color of her hair


Round, like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel.
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
Like a snowball down a mountain
Or a carnaval balloon
Like a carousell that's turning
Running rings around the moon

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of it's own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble
Someone tosses in a stream.

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle your head
Why did summer go so quickly
Was it something that I said
Lovers walking allong the shore,
Leave their footprints in the sand
Was the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand

Pictures hanging in a hallway
And a fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair

Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circle that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Pictures hanging in a hallway
And the fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair

Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind


You can listen to a great version here: Les Moulins De Mon Coeur (The Windmills Of Your Mind) by Toots Thielemans but, it looks like Napster changed the way they do things? So maybe you can't just listen for free all nice and easy anymore? Or is it just because I'm blogging this from the computer I have Napster downloaded onto? Anyway, it's a good song.

It will be sweater weather soon, right? Please?

Friday, August 31, 2007

Big Sky Country...

Holy Cow, all I want to do is read some books about a British ballet dancer. Why is this so hard? When last we chatted, I had purchased Drina books 1-6, and ILLed 7-11. I recieved emails letting me know that all but the last one, Drina Ballerina, were in. So, before class I went to the library to pick them up...

They've all come from Trinity College in Dublin (?!) which has a "library use only" restriction on all of them!!!!! ARGH!!!!

Anyway, here's a poem. According to My Classical Chinese Book, it's a Tibetan Folk Song. The translation is by yours truly.

Qile River,
Flowing under Yin mountain,
Heaven seems like a yurt,
A basket canopy over the wild prarie.
The sky is azure.
The land is vast and vague.
The wind blows through the grass, bending down to show our cows and sheep.


I hadn't thought about this in years until I read the following passage in The Long March: The True History of Communist China's Founding Myth by Sun Shuyun, which I reviewed here.

The book is quoting Sangluo, a foot soldier on the Long March who stayed in Tibet when the army crossed it...

On the plateau it was like another world. At first, it seemed peaceful, no planes pounding us, no Nationalists chasing us. But then it was just peculiar. No people, no houses, no roads--just grass, grass, grass up to the horizon, empty of everything except the occasional river snaking through the plain. Event he sky was different, so close, if you shot a bullet it would pierce it. Bright blue like porcelain...

Monday, August 13, 2007

Weeding=Bad


I've come to the very sad realization that I will have to weed my personal library. The books are eating the house.

But, does anyone else remember the Drina Books?

Drina is directly responsible for my loathing of weeding my personal library. When we did the great book collection integration after we got married and moved to Michigan, I got rid of a lot of books from my childhood. My thinking was along the lines of (1)I can get it from the library on the off chance I actually want to read this again (2) When I have kids, I'll buy them new, shiny copies.

Who knew that 2 years down the road I'd be flung into the carnival that is Children's Librarianship. And my library has most of the books I threw out.

It does NOT have Drina. Drina, who is the star of the BEST series of ballet books ever. Drina, who is long out of print. Drina, who sells for obscene amounts of money on Ebay, Drina, who is barely even available on my Maryland-wide ILL network. Drina, whom I'm ILLing through SCHOOL.

Well, I'm ILLing the last 6 books of the series that I didn't even know existed when I was a child. I found the first 5 rather cheaply so I bought them. Weeding be damned. I will buy the next 6 too, when (1) I have more $$$ or (2) I can find them for under $20-$50 a copy.

For most of my childhood (and a large portion of my non-childhood) I wanted to name my firstborn daughter Andriana after her and she's so out of print. :( But, the recently republished Ballet Shoes so maybe Drina will come soon? Hopefully?

Thursday, August 02, 2007

Ramblings blah blah blah

So... as I mentioned yesterday, I have today's post all written up, but it's contingent on when the new issue of Edge of the Forest goes up. So... here's some blathering on about random stuff.

Lemony Snicket is finally out in paperback! I wonder why they waited so long. Anyway, it's in paperback, with some additions. I haven't had a chance to look too closely at it, but in the back there is definitely some new material.

It looks like there's a serialized story going on! (Please, if you've looked more closely than I have, correct me.) Also, Mr. Snicket seems to have turned Agony Aunt on us, to my immense pleasure.

In other news, Megan McCafferty's new Jessica Darling adventure, Fourth Comings, comes out next Tuesday. Very excited. I can't explain what draws me into it, but I couldn't put Sloppy Firsts down and stayed up way past my bedtime reading it.

Anyway, here's my dilemma (yes, I know I lead an exceedingly difficult existence). It comes out Tuesday. I want to read it NOW. My library hasn't even ordered it yet! What am I to do? Oh! The Agony! I want to preorder it, but I don't, because I've been spending way too much $$$ on books lately. Plus, I don't own any of the others, so... whatever. It looks like my local library (the one near my house, not the one I work in) has it on order, so I can place a hold on it there BUT, I'm not around this month during library hours. I'm always at my library, school, or out of town. Argh.

whinge whinge whinge

Tuesday, July 03, 2007

Oo-er

You wanna know how difficult my life is right now?

Well, I have a final exam due tomorrow at 11:55pm. I am not very far along on it because I've been slaving over my final project (which is going to be awesome, but still needs a lot of work.)

So, tomorrow=no fireworks, and I live in DC which has the greatest fireworks of all, and I LOVE fireworks. Poo. Plus, Dan comes home tomorrow. I'm hoping he'll be horribly jetlagged and will need to sleep all afternoon so I don't feel badly about blowing him off to work on my final. (Hi Honey! I hope you had a good time in Argentina! You can tell me all about it tomorrow, because I need to work on my test now! Go away!)

And, just this very minute, the very nice UPS man came to my door and gave me this, 2 days early.

How am I supposed to concentrate on usability testing and software implementation plans when a bright pink copy of Love Is a Many Trousered Thing is waiting for me?

Plus, Reptile World is coming to the library tonight and I'm introducing the program and such. I'm not such a big fan of reptiles. Oh well. I hoping there will be lots of kids who will be excited about such things...

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

Qing ni fanyi ma?

Currently Reading The Opposite of Fate Amy Tan

Major pet peeve time:
I have noticed that Chinese-American authors, whom I assume haven't studied Chinese on an academic level, but picked up bits and pieces from their Chinese-speaking relatives, make up their own transliteration system, so those of us who actually speak Chinese need to translate the transliteration. Grrrrrrr.

I can understand that the author hasn't studied Chinese, so how would they know proper transliteration methods, but surely, someone in the editing department can figure it out! If not, they should hire me.

Examples:
In her essay arrival banquet Amy Tan talks about her mother teaching her cousin English.

" 'Bu-shr har!" my mother says to him. 'Don't say "har." How. How, how, how--like hau, hau, hau.' Good, good, good."

Except in the pinyin system, the first word (which translates as a general negative, in this case, "no" or "wrong") is bu-shi if you want to put a Beijing accent onto it (which you don't, because Tan's mother is Shanghainese) you can write bu-shir. And good is hao.

Further on in the essay:
"Meigwo-ren... Jyou jin-shan" (American... San Francisco)

Should be Meiguo ren... jiu jin-shan and it wasn't until she directly translated the Chinese name for San Francisco as "old gold mountain" that I realized what she meant by jyou.

The Dim Sum of All Things by Kim Wong Keltner did the same thing. A lot.

I know it's stupid, but it gets to me, which is why it's a pet peeve, no?