Painting Update

I haven't finished painting, but this is what the apartment's looking like to date. I've provided various angles of the painted rooms to give you a sense of the layout. Please excuse the clutter.

As stated in a previous post, the living room is painted Crewel Tan. Here's the view from the dining room.

Here's another view of the living room from within the living room.

The dining room is painted Crewel Tan on the top half and Decorous Amber on the panels within the woodwork.

The hallway walls are also painted Decorous Amber, except above the doors where I ran out of Amber and used the rest of the Tan. Here's a view from the dining room.

Here's a picture of the hallway taken from within the back bedroom/office.

Here we have the Festoon Aqua bathroom.

And now, for the pink kitchen. Originally, we wanted to paint the kitchen a pale yellow, but there were no yellows on the color palette we chose. I went to Sherwin Williams and asked one of the salesmen if he could match a yellow for me. He tried, Lord knows he tried, but he wasn't able to match one of SW's yellows to the three colors with which we had already painted. Cabbage Rose had been the backup. When Kate had suggested this color, I thought it looked like a reddish clay, so I wasn't opposed to it. And when Diana (the only person I know who has a pink kitchen) had said that of the colors on this palette she would paint her kitchen Cabbage Rose, that's when the red flags should have gone up.

Pink.

Pinker.

More Pink.

I will say that the pictures don't exactly represent the Cabbage Rose color too well. The walls look a lot pinker in the photos than in person. Maybe it's the flash? What's troubling is the fact that the swatch matches the walls, which makes me think I'm more color blind than I had previously thought. At least this is a huge step up from what it looked like before--there were cracks spider-webbing the walls, which I patched before painting.

To see pictures of what the apartment looked like when the walls were painted Insane Asylum White, click here.

I'll post pictures of the Majolica Green bedrooms, once I finish painting them.

Quick Break

This has been going around on Facebook, so I apologize if you've seen it already. For those of you who haven't seen it, enjoy. I'd like to meet the person who made this Xtra Normal video and shake his or her hand. Nothing but brass tacks in this exchange. If we could all be so honest, so direct.



In other news, the kitchen's been painted. It's pink. I got duped into painting the kitchen pink. Dammit.

A Piece of Advice for Those of You Looking for Jobs:

Make sure you spell the name of your potential employer correctly on the cover letter.

Today, after (another long) job search, I found a posting for a Reading Instructor at a school I thought I had applied to. When I had originally applied to this school and never heard back from them, I got pretty down. I knew some people who taught there, who I believed I was more competent than when it came to teaching. After digging up the cover letter I had sent this school back in July, I noticed that I had misspelled the school's name, which knocked me down from my previously situated position atop the pedestal of bitterness. No wonder I never heard back from that school.

Rendered completely embarrassed by the situation, I deleted the old cover letter from my hard drive and continued browsing job listings. I finished the search, applied for a position at Rasmussen in Brooklyn Park and filled out a questionnaire to become a volunteer with the Minnesota Literacy Council, then I went through the bookmarked pages to delete expired job listings. That's when I came across the new listing for the Reading Instructor at the school I thought I had applied to again. This time, however, I noticed that the listing wasn't for the same school--the first one was a community college, this one was a technical college; they had different addresses and contact info--so I applied for the position.

And you better believe I proofread every application material I wrote and filled out. Let's hope the outcome is (a lot) better this time.

As soon as I get this going again...

...a roadblock develops. Actually, this is a welcome roadblock, one that I had planned for prior to reviving the daily blog. Over the next few days, I'll be painting the bedrooms and kitchen in our apartment, which should wrap up all the painting that needs to be done here. I bought the paint last week, but haven't had an adequate block of days to begin the final leg of this project. Plus, it's been too cold to be painting, since the walls need to be, ideally, at least 57-58 degrees for the paint to cover without running. And those fumes can be (a little too much) fun without the aid of a cracked window.

To date, I've painted the living room, dining room, hallway, and bathroom. We decided to follow Diana's lead and use one of Sherwin Williams's color palette, so that each room would flow nicely into the next. Here's a link to the one we used; it's called Victorian, if you'd like to reference any of the following color names. We went with Crewel Tan in the living room and the walls above the chair rail in the dining room. The wall panels below the chair railing in the dining room, as well as the hallway, are painted Decorous Amber, while the bathroom is painted Festoon Aqua. For the bedrooms, we chose Majolica Green and the kitchen will be Cabbage Rose, which Diana helped us pick out.

I was going to post pictures of the already painted rooms, but the apartment is kind of a mess right now, so I'll wait until everything's painted and back in order before I show you the finished product. With that said, I might not be posting to this blog on a daily basis over the weekend, but know that it's because I'm working round the clock to paint before we experience a deep freeze. At which time I should be posting here more than I need to/should. Hopefully.

Three Books

Since May, I've gotten a lot of reading done. I had looked at my book shelves and realized that there were too many titles I hadn't gotten to, yet I was still buying books (someone's got to, right?). So I wanted to plow through as many as I could before buying any new ones--kind of like the way Bryan Johnson had setup that sidebar on his BOMM blog, where he had to read X number of books before he made any new purchases. I didn't set any specific goals for myself, but did aw-ight for a while there, getting through several titles already on my shelves. Then I moved closer to Magers and Quinn, found some awesome deals on Amazon--which led to the purchase of a new book shelf and the acquisition of another from one of Kate's family members--went to the Rain Taxi Book Fair, found even better deals on Amazon, and now I'll never need to get a library card for as long as I live.

BUT I've actually been reading the new books I've purchased, so that the ever-expanding "To-read" list doesn't get even more out of hand. Two of those books are Paul Harding's Tinkers, and Jonathan Franzen's Freedom. I didn't review either of these for the lit blog because I really didn't think they'd fit. While Tinkers is Harding's first book, it' been out for some time--long enough to win the Pulitzer--so I wouldn't have been getting the word out for that title. And Franzen's too big. His newest tome has been receiving glowing reviews from every major publication under the sun, which is why I think it's getting nearly as many one-star as it is five-star reviews on Amazon. Too much hype, maybe?

Anyway, I know I've reviewed a couple of books by writers who don't fit the theme of the lit blog--like Brady Udall and Brad Watson--but that's because those books were given to me by the publishers so that I would review them. That wasn't the case with Harding's or Franzen's books, but I thought I'd briefly share my take on them here.

Simply put, Tinkers is the story of a middle-aged man, George, on the verge of death, coming to terms with the strained relationship he had with his father, Howard. Beautifully written, the novel shifts back and forth between George's and Howard's points-of-view, while also jumping through time. From a prose and style standpoint, I thought Harding did a brilliant job of exploring how hazy memory can be, how time can play tricks on the mind, and which events in people's lives not only perceiver and stand the test of time, but can haunt them until their final days. In terms of plot--and even character, at times--this book wasn't very compelling. I think it's because it lacked concrete scenes. When there were scenes, they were fantastic. Such as how Howard acquired a signed first edition of The Scarlet Letter, or how he almost bit off George's fingers. I flew through these parts of the story because they were interesting and, unfortunately, too quick. More frequently, the novel consisted of characters ruminating or reading instructional passages on clocks or building birds nests. Again, these passages were well written, but I found myself fading during these stretches. I wouldn't say that Harding placed style over substance--there's definitely meaningful emotional weight in this story, and everything that's in there needs to be in there--I'm justing saying that overall, it wasn't my cup of tea. It's worth a read, and at 192 pages, it won't take up too much of your time.

There is no "simply put" with Franzen's novel. It's like Terry Crabtree said in the movie Wonderboys: "What he means is...it's difficult to distill the essence of a book sometimes..." If I were to give you a full synopsis of the book (which is 600 pages), it would end up being a 5,000 word plot summary. If I reduced it to a few sentences, as the book jacket does, the book would sound trite. I'll say this: Freedom is a dead-on portrait of an American family going through the ups and downs of the last decade. The world of the story--which mirrors the political and social climates of our world to a T--and its characters--who are directly involved with issues relating to the times--are so fully imagined that I got the feeling I was eavesdropping on the lives of real people. I had to know what was going to happen next; I craved to keep reading this book. Maybe I, too, am a victim of/sucker for all the advance hype it received. I don't think so. All I know is that I'll be reading his last novel, The Corrections, some time soon. Hopefully not before I get through more of my collection, though.

And now, for a little Rolling Stones. I heard about the new Keith Richards memoir, Life, a few weeks back and thought that I would eventually want to read it, but that doing so wasn't an urgent matter. Then I read the very approving Michiko Kakutani review, something that only happens once or twice a year, in the New York Times. And now I want to buy this book.

Not because it got a positive review, but because of what information the review gives its readers in terms of Richards's insight to fame, music, image, and Mick Jagger. The lines from the book provided in this review are eloquently written and have a somber, almost tragic, tone to them:

"I can't untie the threads of how much I played up to the part that was written for me...I think in a way your persona, your image, as it used to be known, is like a ball and chain."

Now I know Keith Richards didn't write this book himself; journalist James Fox is listed as a contributor. But apparently the memoir isn't just a collection of musings from an old rock star. Richards used old letters and diary entries from earlier in his career for material, as well. I'm thinking that Fox was more of a director, asking Richards questions so that the memoir remained focused, or transcriber for the book, maybe polishing up some of the more garbled responses to questions. If you've ever heard (and could decipher) or read interviews with Richards, he's got some pretty smart things to say. Of course he'd need a contributor; most celebrities do when writing a memoir. And I can't imagine Keith Richards sitting at a desk, typing on a computer. But I can see myself reading this book and probably will sooner than I get to The Corrections.

Under Pressure

So this makes sense. The barometric pressure in southern Minnesota the past day or so has been comparable to a hurricane, and according to the Star Tribune these storms could be the worst Minnesota has ever seen (in terms of low barometric pressure). There have been reports of tornadoes and micro bursts, and MSP reduced the number of open runways from three to one, canceling and delaying flights. Which, along with Obama visit on Saturday, could account for the lack of jet noise the last few days.

I have a tendency to blame the weather for my mood, and I'd like to say it's been the reason I've been off these last few days. It definitely adds up. But what I find to be weird is the fact that today--when the winds were at their worst, rattling the windows like an intruder trying to break in, pushing my car all over the road on my way to Mankato, nearly shoving me to the ground as I walked from the free lot to campus back to the free lot--I perked up. No idea why, but I felt pretty good today.

That is, of course, until I got home and found out that the replay of the new Sons of Anarchy episode ran immediately after the first airing. That means I didn't get home in time to see it, because I kept my class longer than usual, because the last two weeks none of my students have wanted to talk about the assigned readings as thoroughly as they needed to be discussed, SOOOO, because because because because becaaaaause of the wonderful dick I was (to them tonight), I ended up screwing myself over, and I missed my show.

Which brings me to my point: you take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have...

...syphilis

The Fall of Oh-Ten

I have such a difficult time getting out of bed on days like today, when it should be colder or warmer than it is, but gray clouds, sporadic breezes, and humidity confuse mind and body into feeling every which way but right. The weather's been like this for the past three days, and I can't seem to shake the sense of being weighed down.

There's been an inconsistency with sound outside, too. On Saturday, Obama was at the U for a Mark Dayton rally, making Minneapolis a virtual no-fly zone for the better part of the afternoon. Since we live only seven miles from the airport, I usually hear planes taking off and landing. That wasn't the case on Saturday, and it cast an eerie silence over the day, like I was in a constant state of waiting. Like I couldn't go on living my life until I heard the sound of jet engines accelerating through the tropospheric barrier.

Then, yesterday, I went for a walk and could hear planes taking off and coming in for landings, but the cloud coverage was so thick I couldn't see them. Which threw my bearings totally out of whack. Hearing those planes overhead but not being able to see them made me wonder where exactly they were located in relation to my walking route. If one happened to break apart midair, I didn't like not knowing where the debris would land.

Not being able to see those planes made me question my sanity. What if they weren't really flying? What if the sound I was hearing was just in my head? Should I have asked the woman who was walking her dog if she could her them, too. (I seriously thought about it.) I had to talk myself down and realize that the anxiety was all in my head.

Maybe it's just the pre-winter jitters, or maybe I'm stressed about not hearing back from potential employers. Whatever the case, I'm not a fan of these cold, gray days.

Free Will

If you've ever had Munchies, you know that they're a mixture of pretzels, Chex, cheese crackers, bagel chips; they sometimes include Doritos or Cheetos, and often have a seasoned coating. They're a perfect blend of all the snack items you could want.

In theory.

I've got a reoccurring problem with the makeup of Munchies. There always seems to be one item in the mix that's on the verge of extinction the moment you pop open the bag, (Currently, that item is Chex.) and that's the one thing I want most. Of course, it's never the one item that seems way more abundant than the others. (Pretzels. It's always, always pretzels--I mean, if I wanted this many pretzels, I'd buy a fucking bag of pretzels.)

I could just buy a box of Chex, but there's something about the magic of the mix--the combination of flavors, the mystery each handful--that makes it a welcome crap-shoot. It's like listening to the radio instead of a CD or an MP3 when you're on a road trip: you may hear a song you didn't know you wanted to hear. I'm okay with imbalance in my snack food bag's ecosystem, so long as I get a taste of something I didn't know I was hungry for.

But usually the same thing happens: I realize what it is I really want after I've opened the bag, and there's not enough of it. This same thing happens when I go to restaurants. Usually I regret getting what I got because the person or people I'm with get something that looks, smells, or (in the case where I get to sample the other dish) tastes better than my order. Sometimes I wonder if I'm in a perpetual state of wanting what I can't have. Or, more specifically, I want whatever it is I didn't choose. That doesn't seem like a very good way to go about living life. I'm pretty sure that's breaking one of the Ten Commandments.

Back on track?

Okay, I need to get back into the blogging game. It seems the stress brought on by not having job security--or enough work (that actually pays), for that matter--has become the perfect excuse for me not maintaining this thing. <----Warning: that was a shitty sentence! Which is one of the side effects of not writing on a consistent basis, I'm told.

One of the reasons I haven't been blogging--aside from having the mindset that I could be doing more important things, or general laziness--is that there's not a lot of news in my life. If I posted on a daily basis, you'd be hearing me bitch about how I'm still looking for either more part-time work or a full-time job, that it seems like I've written more cover letters than I have short stories, or that I haven't been writing that much. Blah, blah, same boring shit.

I'm working on a new blog, where I bitch about commercials. Right now, I'm generating material and trying to figure out how post videos on Wordpress--they don't always work. The goal there is to get this misguided anger I have toward specific commercials out of my head so that I don't develop a brain tumor. But that could end up exacerbating the problem. I'm hoping to post regularly on both blogs, in addition to the lit blog (yeah, that's still around, too). We'll see how long that lasts...

Time to get back to the NLCS, so that I can hear fantastic commentary from Tim McCarver, such as this:

"Oswalt just came into Aubrey Huff's power slot."

Based on your articulation of events transpired, Mr. McCarver, it seems as though we were watching two very different games.