Unedited "Psion Dump" from my Ericsson computer
Dining in Slovenia
We were in Slovenia for fourteen days and we never had a bad dinner.. We at out 14 times, and each times, the food was wonderful. We ate randomly. We didn't consult any guidebooks or go to any 5 star restaurants, as far as I kno We ate whereever we were when we got hungry. We learned to eat between four and 9, because the restaunts uniformly closed, either their doors or their kitchens.. We ate in Ljubljana, we ate in Piran, we ate in Bled, and we ate in small villages wheen we were out exploring. And the food was always good.
Our favorite by far was the grilled Calamari, something we've never been able to find in the USA. We enjoyed sea bass cooked and served with the head still on and prawns with shells heads and tetales and octopus and all manner of "meats." We had goulash, which was a delicate but heatry soup with well cooked pieces of stew beef. We ate polenta in multiple forms. We had delightful seeded grain breads and fresh crusty breads and puneant soups. We had a multiude of sauces. The dessserts were fabtastic and very different than any served in the USA. They were small, much less sweet, and took different forms..
We ate in restaurants in touristy areas where the menus were tranlated into 4 languages, and we ate in restaurants where the menus were in Slovene and no one spoke English (we don't speak Slovene). In every case we were able to obtain food, and that food was good. Very good.
Unfortunately, I can't comment on how wonderful the food was in Slovenbia without noting how BAD the food is is the USA. In Detroit, where I now live, one has to look long and hard to get passable food and a whole lot harder to get good food. I've been coming here 55 years aand I only know one or two plces where a person can count on beings erved a truly good meal. This is very sad, I think.
In Slovenia, you could walk in to any restaurant anywhere and expect to be served not only wholesome, but also delicious food. You could count on it.. Good food on any corner.
On any corner in Detroit, you are likely to find a McDonald's or a Burger King or a wendy's. It's truly sad, but no one seems to even noticve the loss. They think junk food is real food, they think it's OK. I wonder if tey even know what good food is
Since I've lived in Detroit, I've asked veryone I met torecommend a good restaurant, their favorite restaunt. Most of them were unable to name a single good restaurant. Those that did named a restaurant that turned out to be mediocre or barelya dequate.
Because I enjoy good food, I can't help but ask myself, why are there bo good restaurants in this city of === people* Don't any of those people like good food? Have none of them traveled to places where good food is availbleòoand tried some of it?
I want to blame it on mcDonal's, because McDonald's a blight on the face of the earth, like Wal-mart. Butt how can we blame McDonald's? If someone didn't go there, they'd go out of business. I can't say if we didn't go there unless I am using the quenly or editorial we==I do NOT go to McDonald's. This is not to say that I have never been there, I have, my my childrenw ere small 30 years ago, but not since. Anyone who has eaten grilled Calmari in Piran, and prawn, and sea bass prepared who and goulash in Triglav National park could not possibly cosider McDonald's food.
I didn't cosider it food before Iw ent there.
I can't eat out all the time, even if there were good restaurants in Detroit, which there aren't. (If anyone knows of one,let me know)it's too expensive. What I have to do onstd is prepare my own food at home. It is actually quite simple to make real food. Satrt with real ingredients, fresh fruits and vegetables, whole grains, really fr3esh meats, fish, and poultry. Prepare the food with love and vare. It's not that hard.
I have some bloggy friends who are really good cooks, and I love to visit them and eat their yummy food. I'd name them, but I'm not sure they'd want me to. Suffice it to say that their food is better, for the most part, than anyretsaurant in Detroit. Yay Bloggy friends. 6 5c mg in
I wonder if someone created a genuinely good restauhjnhb in Detroit, if it would survive or go out of business. I'd hope it would survive, but so far, the best restaunts here have all gone out of busines.
Restaurant Review, Dylan's and Tom's Oyster Bar
One of the very best restaurants we'd discovered in Detroit was Tom's Oyster Bar, on Mack. It seved raw and cooked oysetrs and sea food and the food was erll prepared and nicely presented. However, when we recntly went there to celebrate our one=year anniversay, it had moved. Th old place was shut down, but tere was a sign on the door saying a new place would open soon. Soon dragged out.
' We went to Lucy's instad. I went with two ther people who were negative about Luct's, but I had an excellent meal that day and would go agin.
We yook two people and wne to the new tom's Oyster Bar. It had moved out to the Shores. There was a bad sign when we got there=ithe parking lot was movvbved. There ised to bne a saying that you could tell how good a restaurant was by how crowded the parking lot was. That, unfortunately, is no longer true, because the mob mentality seems unable to choose well any .ore. Look at the line at MConal's. Chain restaunats, like Yukon and Beenigan's, which used to be OK, but have all gone downhill, have crowds waiting to be seated.
When we got inside,t he place was movvedòòwith Shores boat people. They are an upper echelon of sorts, so you might expect them to have good taste, but the menu had shrunk and all the best items had disapeared. We had to wait for a takle, the service was very slow, and the food, thougha dequate, was nothing to write a good review about.
So we waited and waited and waited for Dylan's. It finally opened and we went the other night. Their calamari sucked, to piy it mildly. Of cocurse, we'd just returned from Slovenia, where they know how to make Calamari. It wasn't as good as Tom's CXalamar It was big hunks and a bit soggy and the sauce that they served with it was in chucnks that sis not ajere to the calamari pieces. The serving size was small for #3456.59 tan. That being said, my entre was favulous. I had the Jambalaya. The first thing I noticed was that it wa sin a much smaller pan than the pan Tom's had served it in, which was huge. The second thingg I noticed was that there were no mussels. Of course, Tom's only had three mussels and three shrimp. Dylan's wasn't exactly "tall food# (a la David Sedaris), but it was piled high )as in my Italian Gramdmoter, mange mange!). And it was good, very good. Delcious, fabulous, yummy. Lots of shrimp, and they had no tails. Tom's had always served them with tails, which was annoying when I was dressed up to have to wallow in sauce to try to remove the tails. The sauce was delicate, hot but not too hot, spicy and scrumptious.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007, 10:58 AM Morning Glory Cafe, Whitehall Michigan
I want to get back to my food rant and talk about Dylan's and Tom's and Slovenia, but so much has happened that I haven't had time to write about. Oh, my goodness, fast service, yummy food==BUT i asked for no cheese,twice, and they gve me cheese. :-(
Write about:
• Morning Glory Cafe, great tasting food, small tables, fast service
• The rte 31 BBQ!
• White Lake and Graham
• The White Hall Tannery Mystery, the deserted buildings, the Polluting of the lake, kids in the darkness, climbing the tower, the fence, surveillance etc. The disappearing, kids ON and in the tower, appearing out of nowhere in the dark
• The Montague Tour )Getting lost between WhiteHall and Montague(NO GOOD MAP!) :-(
• Complete, total utter lack of or in some cases utterly inadequate signage to anywhere up here. :=(
• Now i am afraid I'll run out of gas (after literally being lost for HOURS
• God I can't believe I drove around for hours trying to find this place and for what? Oh my God
• I can't turn off the bullets because of the broken screen, and the touch screen doesn't work. There may be a way, but I don't know what it is. I'm worried about my gaas supply.
• I think you have to py to get in here and I don't want to, after ALL that driving!
• I am back at Whitehall for I think the fourth time today. I am at the beach by the lighhouse, and I am walking in the water with my leather sandals, birks. The Tevas are in the car, but I did not bother walking back to get them. I won't make it home by five as it is
• I didn't see any no parking signs, but I am worried about where I'm parked and also about running out of gas. Keith is always poo=pooing that concern, but I've driven for miles and miles without seing a gas station and I'm very low and I don't know when I will see one
• I wanted to walk at the Stae Park, the mskegon Stae Park, and there is another one, too, right near here, but after being lost for so long and because it's already so late and I'm worried about my gas, I prolly will just TRY to head into Whitehall, get gas, and get on 31 south and head to Grand Rapids, Lansing and home, I hope.
• When I stopped to attempt a probably worthless picture of some gulls, I forgot to turn my watch back on and since I'm so late and so bummed out, I don't wnat to walk any father than necessary, which is too bad because it's so pretty here. I am right on lake Michigan and it's hazy and of course the lake disappears into the haze I've been hot all day and there's a nice cool breeze blowing off the lak.
• Originally, I thought I might walk 15 minutes here and 15 minutes at each of the two parks. But they cost $6 to park, though Muskegon does have a free parking place for the hiking trails. But my concerns about running out of gas have squelched that plan. However, this beach is sort of boring it foes on and on unchaged.
• Suddenly, I turn back. I'm not sure what I'll do, but not this.
• It's not that I can't afford the two dollars to go in the maritime museum, it's that I'm worried about the gas and the time.
• Boy oh boy did I have stress dreams last night. I didn't sleep well; I was awake most of the time, and when I did sleep, it was all stress. I dream I am going for a walk this morning beofre taking Graham to Blue Lake and I get lost. It's still dark and I can't find the right street aand it keep getting darker and street gets narrower and turns into a trail which gets steeper and steeper until finally, it's so steep I can no longer climb it and I'm say8ing to myself, this is stupid, this can't be the right street, it's not even paved and there are no buildings on it and what should I do? I wake up in a sweat and am relieved to see it is early in the morning and i'm still in the motel with Graham.
• My watch is broken, the band, that is, and I "fixed" it 15 times, but it's keep falling back apart, guess it cant be fixed, so I hav it hanging out of my bra )an old lady thing, I guess\\. Putting in my pocket didn't work!
• 2:00 I am back in Whitehall for the 5th time--drove back past the tannery and back past the motel yet again--they were in t the tannery demolishing, they are gonging to build condos. :-( We couldn't go back because they strtd woring really arly this AM. I am getting gas at the same gas station Graham and I walked to last night to get a slushie. It took a long time to get bck here from the lighthouse. AND NOW IT IS POURING RAIN!
• I was going to go back and finish my walk at Muskegon Sate Park, but instead, I drive to 31 south and get on. WAHN! Wahn
• I stop at the rest area to fill my long-empty water bottle and there is a kkitten in a carrier just outside the door. I think about Gail traveling with her cats. And about my ow difficult travles with cats. I worry if it is abandoned, but a man comes out of the bathroom, picks it up, and leaves with it. I guess he didn't want to leave it in the hot car, but leaving it by the door seems srange, too.
• I got my water bottle filled and belatedly, I got a better map--couldn't find one in the car, and I got my ear talked off my contractor running the restroos etc. And, now that I'm on 31 south, it's alost stopped raining! AK!! GHe's upst at how the state spends ourtx money (I was complaining about the death of signage.) He about their stinginess in caring for the restrooms.
• The restroom operator guy said he cn never find Muskegon Stae Park either.
• It was absolutely torrentially downpouring when I went by the exit for Musegon State Park, so I did not stop. I have a rainhat and roancoat in the car, but this was insane.
• Monday, July 30, 2007, 12:54 PM OK, so I am walking along McMillan Ave carrying a computer, a camera, and a calndar. I am on my way to th doctor's office. I didn't want to go. I'd intneded to cancel, but I thought it was on Tuesday and I could call on Monday. Thn I realized it was on Monday, so Itried to call Saturday but the offic was closed. So rather than forfeit th appointment I don't want to go to anyway, i am walking there in the hot sun on the hot sidewalk carrying alll this stuff. I jam the camera in my pocket. I jam the calndar down insid my blouse where the two corners of it stick up just over my breats, giving me an extra set of nipples. Boy do I look dumb! What age does one become "old?" You become old when you act and feel old. I guess allowing onesself to look really dorky in the interest of comfort is probably a sign of old age, LOL!
A man walks by, smiles, says hellow. I think he is older than me. He is wearing headphones. Lisening to opera or books on tape.
Hey, I finally was able to turn off the wretched bullets! Yay! The touch screen is brokn on my Ericsson Psion. So I can't use the meu at the top.
What I Ate for Lunch
I have a blogger friend named Leah. She is beautiful, looks young for her age. She's a great blogger and nonfiction writer, a poet, a photographer, and a wonderful perceptive kind loving friend. I rally like her.
I was having lunch with her on day, and as blogger do, we talked about blogging. We both admitted that we like to blog, we resent the time involved, and we don't always like other people' posts. Some are great, some OK, some boring.
"I hate reading about what people ate for lunch!" Leah told me emphatically. I winced. I myself am guilty of writing about what I had for lunch.
This reminds me of a story. I had a stalker for a while, at least, that's what everyone called him. So we'll refer to him as Stalker Man. He used to come by my house and leave me notes and presents. That would have been worrisome enough, but worse yet, he meddled in my life, sent threatening letters to my ex=husband, without my permission, and to my boss, etc. I was really afraid of him and relieved to move away where he could hopefully no longer bother me.
During the time after my husband left me, I dated a number of men, mostly briefly, before I gave up on men entirely. Stalker Man was one of the reasons for giving up on men. Biker Buddy was my sole reason for starting up with men again.
During the time I was dating, I dated a man who worked in construction. He was a stonemason and carpenter. He was rough looking on the outside but kind and sweet. I liked/loved him a lot. I'll call him Mason Man.
Stalker Man came by my house almost every day while I was at work. He drove a big truck, and every time he drove in and out of my driveway, he drove across the grass. In the spring and winter, he made big muddy ruts in the lawn.
Mason Man came to visit me one day. He also drove a big truck, because he needed it to haul his construction supplies. Because there was a car parked in my driveway, Mason Man drove up on the lawn in case the person to whom the car belonged needed to leave.
Understand, I really like Mason Man, whereas I was afraid of Stalker Man and he annoyed me.
During the course of my conversation with Mason Man, standing in the yard with his truck, I was noticing the deep ruts in my lawn made by Stalker Man. I mentioned these to Mason Man, and h apologized profusely for driving on my lawn. I was SO embarrassed. It hadn't occurred to me that Mason Man would think I was criticizing HIM. I wasn't! I wouldn't. I didn't care if h drove on my lawn. I was angry at Stalker Man and it had nothing at all to do with Mason Man. I told him that, but I didn't think he believed me, and I felt really bad. I wish Mason man knew I didn't man to criticize him.
The worst thing is, I haven't seen him since that day to tell him again I care about him and had no intention to criticize him
What does this have to do with what I ha for lunch? I don't know whether Leah meant to criticize MY talking about what I ate for lunch or whether she meant the criticism as an analogy for boring posts in general. And, in a way, it doesn't matter. Because I love Leah, and her criticism of my blog, whether intentional or unintentional, is well taken. Her blog is much more interesting than mine. I have "excuses" or reasons for that.
• I have a lot going on with my family and life right now with the death of my mother, her estate, and the sale of her house
• 'I am putting my writing energy into my novels and poetry. Also my art.
I could go on, but I won't. Why do I blog then, if it's not the highest priority in my life. I don't really know, maybe i shouldn't.
I just got weighed, and I lost a pound. My weight is 265, my blood pressure 137{78 and my pulse 72.
But I have another issue about what I had for lunch. I had no lunch, and it's 1:38 PM and I may not get any lunch. I often miss my lunch. I seem to be so busy lately. It's ridiculous how busy I am, and for what? The real problem is, I have issues with food. I am overweight, my weight threatens my health, and I can't get it under control. And all my doctors can't help. Or don't.
So maybe I shouldn't be writing about what I had for lunch. But I like to. I'm interested in food. Supposedly, one should eat to live, not live to eat. I'm not in either category, but I do like to eat and I like to write about eating and food because it interests me.
I wrote a story about Key Lime Pie, but I didn't post it, because I was thinking about what Leah said about not liking to read about what someone had for lunch. I thought about making a separate blog and naming it, "What I Ate For Lunch" and putting food talk and recipes on it. But, I have too many blogs already! I'd like to cut down on my blogs, not increase them.
So, I am going to label all my food=related posts, "What I had for Lunch" plus a subtitle. Then anyone who doesn't want to read about what I had for lunch can skip that post. And yes, Leah, if you're reading this, I DO realize you might not have meant me (Hence the story about Stalker Man and Mason Man.\.
So here then, finally, is my "first" (new) post under the "what I ate for lunch" category. It is not really the first one, but it will be the first one with that label. I will go back and label the old ones and then maybe post the Key Lime Pie story and some addendums to it.
"What I Ate for Lunch; Spicy orange Syrup"
As I'm sure you realize by now, I'm getting old. I'm 61 years old. I have a problem that bloggers rarely blog about: constipation. It's unpleasant and I don't intend to talk about it here, at least not much. I've tried all sorts of remedies without much success. The one thing that seems to work fairly well with a minimum of unpleasant side effects is bran. But bran is hard to take and no, psillium pills do not work.
I've experimented with various delivery systems for the bran, and my current delivery system is pancakes. With every meal, I make a whole-wheat bran pancake, because it's quick and easy and the taste is fairly acceptable. But it's better with syrup.
Syrup is "bad." It's high in sugar and being overweight, I do not need a lot of sugar in my diet. I also don't like paying the high cost of maple syrup, even though it's yummy. So I've been experimenting with homemade syrups. My mother used to make homemade syrups.
I made a delicious vanilla syrup. I made an elderberry syrup (I'm done at the doctor's and headed out and that's another story, a story about honesty and truthfulness and the goldfish I'd LIKE to write about.) My favorite syrup so far is the one I made last night, spicy orange syrup. It's perfect on my bran pancake and it tastes so good it's almost like a dessert. And I don't need desserts!
Here's how I made it. I did NOT use a recipe; because we got home really late last night and we were very hungry. I made it while concocting an ad hoc stir-fry (not sure if ad hoc is the right word here). I put one cup or sugar and about 2 tablespoons of water in a large saucepan on medium heat. The water did not entirely dampen the sugar but made it dissolve faster as it heated up. I heated it and stirred it until it boiled and then about two more minutes, took at 3{4 off the heat and added about a quarter of a cup of frozen concentrated (not diluted) orange juice and 2 sprinkles each of cinnamon and cloves. I stirred it until well mixed, cooled it, and decanted it into a plastic squeeze bottle to squeeze onto my pancake. It was wonderful.
Next time I'm going to try adding a little orange zest. It could be served on dessert pancakes. For presentation, sprinkle the pancake with powdered sugar from a sugar shaker and then make a spiral or other design with the orange the orange syrup. Serve with a wedge of orange and three cherries or a scoop of vanilla ice cream also decorated with the orange syrup.
I am on my way hom now. I am walking aling McMillan. I am happy that I told th doctor the truth and he seemed to b OK with it. I was nervous and considering lying to him but I hate lying and I am glad I didn't.
I had ntneed to cancel my appointment so I didn't have to tell him that I quit taking the meds he proscribed m.
This is all tabgled up, as many of my other storis ar, with various other things going on in my life. I'd like to write a story{post about it, but it's still in progress, so I don't know the outcome yet.
Today, Laura called me up and asked me to buy a gofish for Rachel TODDAY or tomorrow and brng it when we come tomorrow night. Rachel's goldfish died. Laura told her it had gone on a trip but would com back. (Issues here, too, with her father in Iraq!!\ So I'm supposed to get her another one just like it. And we're all supposed to pretnd it's the other one, back from it's trip.
AK. I don't like being party to a lie
I'd rather tell her the truth.
But I feel like I can't do it without exposing her mother as a liar.
I don't want to do that, ither. But if I participate in extnding the lie, I become a liar and an accessory to the crime.
It makes me a liar.
But I am already a liar, even though I told my doctor the truth about not taking the meds. I slightly fabricated the story about how Is topped taking them, even though it was partly true, I stopped on my trip to Slovenia because it was difficult to acess th meds on the plane, very difficult. Then I just decided to try not taking them, because I was unhappy with them.
But I told him there was a dely with the luggage and then I decided not to take them, since I'd been off them a while at that point.
And I outright lied to my other doctor's rcpetionist, I called and said I'd be out of town and couldn't make the appointment and tha I'd call when I was back in town. I just didn't want to go.
I'm reading a book called The Secret Keeper (I think) and I do not like the protagonist. He's a bit slimy and dishonest and has a condescending attitude toward women and toward his patients. I want him to be more honorable. He dos admit his shady dealings to his lawyer. I don't want to be like that. I want to be honorable. I want to b honst. So it bothers me intnsely when I am not.
I'm almost home, well, about three blocks nore to go. I almost don't wnant to get there. I ahve so much to do I hardly know what to do first. AK!
And I have just added buying a goldfish for Rachel to my bulgingg toòdo list. And I have no idea where I can buy a goldfish. I'm a strnger in this town and don't know my way around at all.
And on the topic of goldfish, there'ss th life of th goldfish to be considerd, too. They keep the goldfish in tiny bowl with nothing. Nothing at all. No wonder it dies. I will feel responsible for the life and death of that goldfish. Could I make it a teachable oment. Buy it a larger bowl and a filter? Some plants? AK. I'm afraid my "help" would not be appreciated. I left at home a nice bowl and filter, but it probably resides int he botto of the landfill by now.
I am home. The phone is blinking with a message. I'm all hot and sweatifed. It's 2:38 and I have yet to have lunch. I'm hungry. I need to go get my new driver's license, go to the postòoffie, deal with the house sale issue, etc.
I listened to my phone messages, made myself a small lunch since I will have dinner soon, and then spoiled it all by eating not one, not two, but THREE pieces of key lime pie. I made two pies last night, but they got done so late I never got to taste them Aieee. So much for that one pound I lost. AK. :-(
So much for dinner soon. Think I will be making gumbo or minestrone soup or some variation{combination thereof.
But I won't be very hungry.
I start some wild rice, black beans and noodles for Keith's supper soup. I'm going to attempt a jambalaya like mea for myself.
I put my long pants and shoes and socks back on and brush my teeth and now I am standing in line at the secretary of State Office. This is the Michigan Equivalent of the DMV. It took me more than 20 minutes to find it, so I am later than I'd hoped to be. AK.
I brought my book, The Secret Keeper, by Chris Zimmerman. The line is long and it is already 4:33, I hope I get through before they close at 5.
A couple of women leaving together say, "Well, that was pretty fast." Hope it is.
I'm 2 back from the first desk and the line behind me is longer than when I got here, all the way out to the door.
When I get to the front of the line, I am laughed at rudely by a mean lady and told I do not have all the requied IDs=iI need 3. My driver's license, from NY, a passport or birth certificate, and two others plu proof of residency. Si I leave after wasting all that time and accomplihing NOTHING! AK!
6:29 PM So I made Jambalaya for dinner, from Scaratch. Kith helped by thawing, peeling and cutting up the shrimp. And the Andoullie sausange. I cut the veggies and shicken and did the stirring and spicing, and it came out xcellent. Then a pancake with ornage syrup and thn Key lime pie for dessert. I took only a sliver (really\ and Keith took the rest of a quarter of the pie minus my sliver so there's 3/4 of it left and I told Keith to pack it up for his lunch but he says there's nothing to pack it into. I don't want to eat any mor of it.
Tuesday July 31, 2007, 8:30 PM We are in the car==Keith's car--heading to ML's from Chipolte where we had supper with Laura, Rachel, Nathaniel, Mrs. Chen, Ruby, Jonathan, Natalie and Sophia, there were ten of us not counting Sophia. Laura had entered the card contest and won a meal for ten people. It's a fast-food Mexican Restaurant, but one with quality natural food, and it was very good. I took a bunch of pix. Rachel and Nathaniel each got a birthday dragon "from Neil." It was rather chaotic at first, but the food was quite tasty. I brought my own fake cheese.
Sveral new offers have cone in on my Mother's house and it's all up in the air and a bit nerve-wracking.
I went over to SOS again today and had to take a motorcycle test (which I thought was difficult) and I got a new interim Michigan driver's license. The new one will com in about two weeks. Now we need to hurry up and insure my car in Michigan and change the registration. Everything seems to take ridiculously long.
It's unpleasantly overhot in this car. The air conditioner barely functions in the front seat and never reaches to the back but Keith doen't like the windows open because of the noise. He and ML are in the front where there's a hint of coolness, bu back here, there is none I am dripping with sweat.
set up the goldfish aquarium in the basement. Laura covered it with a towel. It looked really pretty.
I also delivered the pictures I had framed for Laura Lindow and the cards and photos I made her. She called to thank me but I had to cut her off, as we were leaving to go gt ML and go to Laura's. We also had to get gas and taht delayed us as there was a line. We were a little late getting ML but made up most of the time, so we weren't late at Laura's, but then it took a while to set up the aquarium.
I finished the book, The Secret Keeper, by Chris Zimmerman. I was disappointed with the ending.
Comme ci; comm ca
The Secret Keeper, by Chris Zimmerman. The story is pretty good, I'd give it maybe an eight out of ten. It was interesting and unfolded neatly. owever, the protagonist, a psychologist named Ong, is an unsympathetic character. He is insensitive, makes fun of his patients and other people, belittles his wife, his girlfriend and woman in general. He breaks the law and he breaks the psychologist's code of ethics and only occasionally exhibits a twinge of guilt or a moment of understanding. Worse yet, there is little to indicate that the auhtor is aware of the dispicableness of his protagonist.
I realize that unsympathetic characters are the vogue these days, but I prefer a character I can associate with. I want to agonize and suffer with my character, not find myself hoping something trribl will happen to him to balance out the bad Karma he is creating by his unfortunate thoughts and choices.
Several characters in this book are motivated by revenge. This is an appropriate motive for a villain, but not a hero.
Many of the dangling ends are tied up, but a few are left loose. The ending is disappointing and juvenile. It's a fantasy come true for a person who doesn't deserve it and has paid no penance for his wrongs.
Thursday, August 8, 2007, 3:48 PM I am out walking. It's in the 90s. I'm wearing jean shorts and a trasparent dragonfly blouse from Aunty Ann with a white comisole under it and sandals and carrying a black daypack with Erin's package and the print for Muna Beeai and 500 $ in cash to deposit in Graham's college account, not the "special" one, but the regular one. From Mom's bequest. I may not have time to do all that. And, because of the heat, I may turn around and go back without having done it all or any of it.
There's a breeze and clouds and a chance of thunderstorms and neighbors ar out watring their lawn.
I fel a little sick for some reason
Sick to my stomach, that is.
I am bummed out that I started mutiple potentials posts and stories and have not finished thme. I guess there is one post in here that is possbly finished.
The What I had for lunch 1st post.
I was working on a "book review" for Chris Zimmerman's book, The Secret Keeper," but didn't finish that. I had a long talk with Keith about it and would like to have written more of it right after that, while it was fresh in my mind, but was unable to so. I can't go back and read what I've written and continue from there. That is one of the difficult things about writing while I walk. I can write, butt I can't really read. I don't have to look at what I'm writing, but I'd hav to stop to read.
I was going to try to continue writing about it, but bfore I do, I thought of a couple other things.
First, after a lot of waffling and indecision, a family decision has been made to sell Mom's house to Wayne through Carol. I have mixed feeling about all this.
There is a sense of relief and hope that finally it will actually happen and be all over with. That would be a reief for sure, in on sense. There is a sense of sadness and grief that my parnets house and all their beongs is about to cease to be theirs and ours. There is a concern and worry about the boxes that were never looked at and finacial papers in the garage and elsewhere. I'm not sure that this was the perfect decison, but it's probaby an andequate decison if it all works out OK.
I never met Carol or Wayne or talked to them, but I have a slightly negativ feeling toward them because they were rude to Erin and did not return the key to her.
AAlso, it will be a little less money. But not that much. On the other hand, I filled out rebate forms twice for on $5 rebate, so letting a coupl hundred dollars slide seems a little strange. But, whatever. Hope it all works out.
I do feel funny and sad, and also I'm trying to just sort of suspend those feelings a little until I'm sure it will really happen this time.
I am almost to Muna Beeai's. She is my primary care physician and sh saw one of my art pieces at the bank and liked it so I made her one and I hope the office is open so i can give it to her.
My hips hurt.
4:08 PM It took me 18 minutes to walk to Muna Beeai's fro home. Now, I am walking back the way I just came. I am walking back past a street person who is sitting on the ground talking out loud about God, I guess. I just walked by him a minute ago. He's black. This is Detroit. Walkinga round with $500 in cash may not be wise. But I'm doing it because I am trying to ill two birds with one stone, do some of my errands and get my walk in. Next stop: the bank, if it's open. I want to deposit not $500, though I have that with me, but $475. I'm saving $25 to give Graham. If you inherit some money, it sems as if you should be able to spnd at least a little of it! The rest is going in the college account, part in the special one, part int he regular on.
I hope it is open. That would be good, because I would like to get this over with and know it is done.
It occurs to me, though, that there may be money in his bank envelope, which I don't even know where it is. Money that should be deposited with this. AK.
Chris Zimmerman's characterization is pretty good, I'd say an eight on a scale of one to ten.
The bank was open and I deposited the money. Now, I have to get across Mack, big 6 lane road here. Then to the PO. It's so close no pint in trying to work on the book review yet!
Her we are at the PO at 4:26 PM, Nine people ahead of me.
Chris Zimmerman's characterization is pretty good, I'd say an 7 on a scale of one to ten. The characters more than one demensional and fairly believable, but a little stereotypical. I exerience a little
4:34 PM, I mailed Erin's package. It didn't have everything in it that I originally wanted in it, but at leats it's off the diningroom table, LOL!
Boy, people here are driving like maniacs!
Chris Zimmerman's characterization is pretty good, I'd say an 7 on a scale of one to ten. The characters more than one demensional and fairly believable, but a little stereotypical. I exerience a little
Chris Zimmerman's characters do not seem to be fully aware of their flaws and shortcoming. No, that's not right.
No one is fully aware of their shortcomings.
I am having trouble articulating what it is that I have a problem with. I explained it all to keith the other day but have lost it.
Let me talk a little about Amy Tan and Cider House Rules. There are unpleasant characters in each of those books. But they are treated as human beings with a history. As people who have made less than good choices but are still seen as fully human and even somewhat sympatetic. I can empathize with the character's. Chris Zimmerman's characters are disagreeable but drawn in such a way that it is ahrd to empathize with them.
Wahn, I forgot to turn my watch on after stopping for the last light.
Chris Zimmerman never indicates in his writing that he understands the flaws and humanity of his characters and that they are sepata from him.
I stopped at the Village Market and got bread, salad fixings and shiitak mushrooms. Keith is making dinner tonight, spahetti and salad. I'm hoping that I will have wlaked my required 45 minutes when I get home, but because my watch was off for a while, I may not have. I would like to beat Keith back so he knows i have those itmes and doesn't go out after them himslf! And that means that I cannot walk any extra to make th numbers come out right.
Some authors are able to write about unpleasant characters, make the characters sympathetic, and allow the reader to associate with both the characters and the author himself, but in my opinion, Chris Zimmerman fails at this important task. He fails to separate himself from his characters and to make the wrong choices and obnoxious things they do entriely understanble to the reader. For example, he uses revenge as a motivation in several events in the story. Revenge is an appropriate motivation for a villain or antagonist, but his protagonist and the protagonit's wife both use revenge as motivations with no apparnt understanding by the autor or character of the inappropaitenes sof this for a protagonost and no growth away from this POV.
Saturday August 4, 2007, Whitehall, MI
Here I am at the Morning Glory Cafe again, because the food at the Motel is not to my liking. The food here is OK. It was pretty good last time, but Iordered soemthing different. I asked for water with lemon twice and got water with no lmon. And last time I was here, I asked for no cheese and got cheese, so we'll see.
The wateer tastes like salt.
Keith is back at the motel repairing the lock. His key broke off in it last night. He ate two bagls and seems satified with that. Th bagels were't even whole wheat, at least last time they had whole wheat bagels.
There is a playhouse across the street from our hotel offering a play tonight and we might go. Last time I was here, I tried to do some writing but the service was so fast that I didn't get any done. I was hoping it'd be fast today, too.
I was trying to figure out what the difference is between Chris Zimmerman's characterization and Amy Tan's, John Irving's or Barbara Kingsolver's. Figuring that out is not a futile exercise in semantics or pop psychology, it's important to me as a writer. I want my characters, to be full, well=developed and sympathetic. I don't want them to make the reader continually flinch at MY gaucheness.
I guess that Chris Zimmerman's characters do have good qulaities, but their flaws are so flawed and so unexplored and they happen to be hot-button issues for me. The protagonist belittls his wife and girfriend, refuses to accept what they say as meaningful, dismissing it as "rambling," and thinks revenge is a meaningful and appropriate motive for behavior. As I mentioned before, a character with those traits seems more like a villain to me than a protagonist. If the protagonist is going to be a villain, then I would prefer that the author
Tuesday, Agust 7, 2007, 8:54 PM the hours and days keep speeding by and I never seem to have time to finsih the things I satrt. Tonight, we had an orthodontist consultation for Graham getting his braces. The whole thing was confused and upset and delayed by Graham having had h8is bicycle stolen. He says he has it locked to Austin's bikeb and that they took both.
The doctor had plaster casts, photographs and X=rays of Grah.m's face motuh and teeth. It was all aliitle strange and weird. The plaster casts of his teeth rminded me of those ducks and other strange cratures that artist made at Heidelberg. The photos of the teeth and X=rays were a little gruesome. And there were diagrams and technical terms. I asked what the consequences of soing nothing would be, just to see what he's say and he was really articulate about explaing the pros and cons. The consequnces of getting braces but not keeping your teeth clean could be worse than not getting them all at, which worries me because we can hardly get Grahma to brush his teeth even when nagging him.
I may never have an opportaunity to return to writing about Slovenia food or soing those restaurnt reviews I started or finsihing the book review I'd started on Keeping Secrets by Christ Zimmerman. I really wanted to that. I think examing what works and ddoesn't work would be helpful to me as a writer.
It is so hot and humid out here. The cicadas are humming loudly. It smells of sewage and rot and I can't imagine what it must smell like in Bahgdad where the temperature is 128 degress and the airconditioned rooms are 90=something.
