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© All text and images copyright1999- 2003 emjaybee
Give a hoot. Don't steal.

My dad was probably responsible for at least one fire, because he always threw his cigarette butts out the car window. I would watch them worridly from the back seat as they flew down to the pavement in a shower of sparks. Sometimes they flew into the medians, though, and I'd feel guilty. All those Smokey the Bear commercials had done their work on me.

Matt is working hard on the CD releasing business, and I accepted a new book project for next year, a book on Weapons of Mass Destruction: Biological and Chemical Warfare. Yes, grim stuff, except that I've developed a weird fascination with germs and viruses, so I find it more interesting than anything. Plus, it's a subject most of us really don't know much about, and it has a long history. Technically, germ warfare can be traced to medieval wars (and maybe farther back) when infected animal carcasses (and maybe even humans) were catapulted into enemy towns in the hopes of spreading disease. Some of the early European settlers reputedly gave smallpox-infected blankets to the Indians. Anthrax is just the latest variant.

Chemical warfare is pretty old too; there are ancient references to "salting the earth" of captured villages, which would make the soil incapable of growing crops, at least for many years. And wells would be poisoned, too.

I don't know why I find this so fascinating, but maybe it's because it helps me put it all in perspective. We think of these weapons as something new, but they are just the newest version of old ideas. Maybe I think understanding them removes some of their fearfulness, though I don't know why that would be so.

September 21
I decided to take my overly-pale self outside to enjoy a glorious September day, and went to Central Park for a few hours. The air was at that exact right temperature where you don't even feel it against your skin; not warm, not cool, just absolutely perfect. I discovered that someone had decided to make an impromptu roller-skate park out on a wide stretch of concrete, by setting up barricades in a circle and putting a dj rig in the middle. Every fancy skater in the city was there, some of them old guys from the 70s roller-disco days. They were amazing; one guy skated around doing tricks with 3 water bottles balanced on top of his head. It was fabulous to watch them, and the music was some great clubby/hip hoppy stuff that was so much better than the endless loops of Sad Eyes, Sherri, and Thriller that played back in the rinks I used to go to (thousands of years ago).

Work craziness continues, and I probably won't slow down much before the end of our season, but I think I'm through going in on weekends. I think I do need to find other, social, things to do, though, because I'm starting to feel twitchy staying home too much.

Whenever you read articles about breaking the couch-potato habit, they always recommend volunteering. But I was telling Matt, I need to do something that doesn't feel like a chore, or a duty, something that is strictly for me. Volunteering is great, but I just want to meet people and feel like I've had a good time, I think. I'm not sure what that would be, though, so I'm trying to keep my eyes open. I'm not naturally a very social person, so I have to make sure it's something that doesn't make me feel like running away screaming.

Also, I'll admit, I have a low stupid-person tolerance, and this severely limits what I do. That's why I ended up leaving my old writer's group in Texas; it was just a sad collection of people who wouldn't know a good book if it bit them in the tuckus. Yes, I'm a snob, but I can't help it. I never dissed anyone to their face, but there's only so many times I can politely peer-review excruciating sex scenes with heaving bosoms, or psuedo-Philip-Roth novels about 50 year old men getting it on with 16 year olds---written, of course, by a creepy 50 year old guy.

Lots of people write what I can only classify as fan-fic; stories that are just rip-offs of other books with themselves put in as the characters. It may be therapy, but it ain't literature. And when it ends up in the publisher's slush pile, it makes things harder for good writers.

This is also why I've yet to attend a writing workshop. It just seems like my crappy writer's group writ large, and they're expensive to boot.

Off I go to another week, hurrah.

September 15
A banner day. Matt's disk is in! 6 boxes of his CDs are currently sitting in our kitchen, causing worry in our cat, who's afraid boxes=oh crap they're moving again. Me, I'm just kind of jittery and excited every time I look at them, which surprises me.

Over the three years it's taken for Matt's CD to come to fruition, I've been pretty blase about the whole thing. Maybe because both of us being angsty was too much drama for people sharing less (uh, way less) than 800 sq. feet. Also I've been preoccupied with my own angst, over book projects, work, the finer shades of moral gray in the ethical universe, what color I should paint my toenails next.1

But maybe also, because I didn't want to care too much.

Matt's last CD was with his old band, a terrific bunch of talented guys. Trouble was, the band just never had a strong vision of itself; every member seemed to feel pulled towards different ideas of what it should be. And bands have to be cohesive units to work, no matter how talented each person is. So the last time Matt had a CD to release, well, it didn't connect with enough people, and though the band played a lot of gigs and actually made a surprising amount of money, nothing ever came of it.

Realizing that nothing was going to come of it, not in that form, was really hard for Matt (and the other guys), and hard for me to watch him go through. I guess I've been a little wary of getting excited about his new projects since.

And yes, of course, no matter how much this cd "rokks"2, music is a tough, heartbreaking business. Lots of toiling, paying your dues, blahdy blah blah cue sad Behind the Music theme etc.

But.

This cd is a different animal from that one. It knows what it is, and what it is is strange and funny and sad and angry and more than a bit weird. And I know that there are equally strange/funny/sad/angry/more than a bit weird people out there who will like it, if we can just get it to them. So I have hope. Excitement, even.

I don't want you to think I'm someone who lives through their creative spouse; I mean, this site will continue to be focused on me, me, the things that make me angry, and the wonderfulness of me. And Matt supports my projects as much as I support his; he'd like nothing better for me to write a bestseller that knocks the latest Grisham book3 out of the list and makes me a million dollars. But I like being a part of what he does, because it's just darn interesting, and it makes him happy, which makes me happy.

And now we're just so darn happy, people want to kill us. But hey, that's the price of happy. Everyone wants to be happy, but no one wants to watch happy.

So anyway, there's a faint chance that someone from my work will find this site; I handed out copies of Matt's CD, which has his website, which links to my website. So if you're reading, hi, co-workers. I don't talk smack about you here.4 Feel free to hang around and read all my embarrassing childhood stories. And send Matt's CD to all your high-powered, blow-snorting, record executive friends. You know which ones.

1 purple.
2 a lot.
3 Title: More Lawyer Crap
4 At least, I don't think I have. But if you see me mention a co-worker, just relax and assume it's not you. Probably.

September 4
For many readers, there seem to be certain books that can change your life and your way of thinking--that can open up doors you didn't know were closed. I'm re-reading one of those books now, which I'll talk about in a minute, but I thought I would list the books that have had that effect on my life, and why.

C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
I grew up in a Baptist tradition, one that was mostly fundamentalist in nature. I've talked about the effect that had on me, and why I eventually broke away from it. But it was Mere Christianity that made that break possible. Lewis is by no means a radical, and I no longer subscribe to all of his theology, but he gave me a radical realization: that questioning and testing religious ideas is not a threat to God. God gave me my brain that questions, and demands that I use it, not that I accept everything that I'm told. It gave me a sense of spiritual freedom that hasn't left me since.

Robin McKinley, The Blue Sword
Something about fantasy novels has always attracted me; maybe it was just an outgrowth of my early love for fairy tales. At any rate, McKinley's take on fantasy was the first I ever read that featured a strong, fascinating female lead character instead of the standard prince/warrior/king hero. The fact that McKinley herself is a brilliant, opinionated, sometimes cranky writer doesn't hurt either. She was my first female role model. She also revealed the sexism in most fantasy and sci-fi to me, which did make me a much pickier reader, and led me on to seek out writers like Ursula Le Guin and Connie Willis. Her re-tellings of many fairy tales is also extremely subversive and satisfying, because they don't twist the originals, but improve them by giving the female characters equal and important roles.

Madonna Kolbenschlag, Kiss Sleeping Beauty Good-Bye (out of print: used editions available)
In a way, this book puts together the religious themes of Lewis and the fairy-tale revisions of McKinley. Hardly anyone has heard of Kolbenschlag; the copy I have of her book is a 1979 paperback I picked up at Half-Price Books. But this brilliant little meditation on the ways that the archetypes of fairy tales shape and cripple the roles of women in society hit me like a bomb. As I was home sick, re-reading this today, I kept wanting to highlight passages--but I would end up marking up the whole book. She draws from an enlightened Christian perspective, Kierkegaard, Freud, de Chardin, and a host of other thinkers and philosophers to explain what has oppressed women most--a lack of opportunity to find and choose their own, meaningful, work.

It's a dense book, but rich with insights.

Here is one excerpt:

Theologian Paul Tillich has described personality as being that which has power over itself. The power to do and to choose, the power to create one's own existence, the capacity for transcendence, is an obvious prerequisite for fully developed human personality. Self-determination is a prerequisite for the formation of an ethical capacity. Moral development is directly related to an individual's opportunity to make decisions in life, and this, in turn, is dependent on the role one is permitted to play in society. Where social role relegates greater responsibility to an individual, there the moral development is generally the greatest (for good or ill). It is not power that corrupts, it is powerlessness.

(emphasis added)

There are other books that have been important to me in their own ways, but these three are the ones I most want to make other people read. More to come on this (maybe) later.

September 3

New York is the new Seattle. Gray, drizzly, rainy days have somehow become the default setting here, and you don't even hesitate to take your umbrella when you go out. For someone who doesn't own a raincoat, I sure seem to be enjoying it, too.

The ladies who ride the elevator with me discuss the wet weather, and complain and roll their eyes. Over the last few seasons, I've discovered that they hate snow, too, and that most hot days are too humid. Only a sunny clear day that's not too hot gets their grudging approval.

I don't say much in return, because I've got no complaints. I like it this way, and I don't find it the least bit depressing. I don't know why, exactly. Maybe rainy days are more forgiving. No one expects you to do much, to go jogging, to do a yard project. No one's hair looks good, and you can't wear anything but sensible shoes unless you want soaked feet. The damp air comes in your window and you feel good about spending the whole weekend with a book, listening to the rain.

Which is all just as well, as the stupid-busy part of my work season continues. I'm training the first replacement person, and she's catching on well. Next week comes the second trainee. I like training new people, actually, so I'm enjoying that part of everything. But the sheer amount of work I have to manage between now and November is staggering, if I think about it too much, so I don't. I just do the bit I can, and try to keep everyone informed about what isn't getting done on time.

I'm watching Howard Dean with interest, as are a lot of people. This Salon article (you can read it if you click through the ad) made me laugh today, because it sums up what I've been thinking all along:

And what is the temper of the Democratic Party base? They loathe Bush and everything he stands for -- he's become a lightning rod for dark and febrile passions in the same way Bill Clinton was (and is) for the GOP core. It's not just his harebrained ideological nostrums for how to reorder America and the world. They hate him and it's personal. They hate his frat-boy smirk, his phony fly-boy act, his cringe-inducing mangling of the language, his born-again sanctimony, even his Texas twang and his godforsaken, tumbleweed ranch where only someone as fence-post-dumb as W. would hole up in August. They hate him like their lives depended on it, lives that will certainly be unbearable if this bumbling extremist is reelected (or elected) in 2004.

Though I personally don't really hate W so much...it's hard to hate someone who's such a non-entity. It's like being mad at the wall. What I hate is the rigged system that gives us only two parties and that decides presidential elections by the Electoral College, not the popular vote. I think that's a ripoff no matter where you fall on the political spectrum. I think that's why our choices are so uninspired come election time, and why so many of us never vote at all.

I'll be honest; I'd vote for any Democrat at this point, even Lieberman (though really, I cringe at the thought that's he's what's being offered). But it sure would be nice to vote for someone who appears to have a brain, a conscience, and a vision. Some of the Bushes have the first one, but the second and third appear to be off the menu. Even in my conservative days when I voted for Bush I, I hated the guy...I hated the way he fussed like an old school teacher whenever someone dared to question him, I hated the way his CIA connections made me wonder about him, I hated the way he dodged responsibility for the Iran-Contra affair, and I hated that he was so removed from ordinary life by his wealth that the sight of a grocery-store laser scanner amazed him. How can I respect a guy who's clearly never had to buy his own quart of milk?

We won't have a real democracy until real people are allowed to run the show. Correction: until they decide they're going to do it, and don't take no for an answer.