7/12/2002

Up until yesterday, I was undecided. Now I'm not.

Yesterday was my birthday. (I'm 32. Thanks. No, I don't feel old. I just feel like me.) I had two things going on at the Tribune: I was waiting to hear back about a full-time job I'd interviewed for, and I had a meeting about a potential freelance project for a different group there.

I found out I didn't get the job. I did land the freelance project. OK then.

I've been thinking about freelancing for years, but I never had the courage to give up the steady paycheck, the sure thing. Then I got laid off. When I wasn't wailing and gnashing my teeth, I was actually almost glad. Here's my chance to try freelancing. Here's an opportunity to see if I have the discipline to get stuff done with no one looking over my shoulder, to go out and pitch my talents, to make my own living. Given a choice, I'd rather have been laid off with a lot more money in the bank, but what can you do? Here was opportunity kicking me in the ass. Was I going to take it?

For a month, I wavered. And now, I know. Yes. I can do this. I can charge money for my skills. I can pursue work that's fun. I can make my own schedule. I can survive without the safety net.

I am now a full-time freelancer. Hear me roar.

God help me.

7/10/2002

I spent part of the day at Angie's as she's getting her house painted and doesn't want the dog to roll in the paint. Fine with me, as I can work from anywhere with a computer. I brought some paperwork with me, typed furiously, and walked the dog. No problem.

Later, we had this conversation:

KestingAJ: hey, this your gold earring type thing that's here? like a double hoop?
sjerslix: Oh, it's a paper clip. And yes
KestingAJ: fancy paper clip
sjerslix: Feel free to use it to, um, clip things
KestingAJ: okey dokey
sjerslix: One of the tchotchkes generated by BrassRing.
sjerslix: Get it? A Brass Ring?
KestingAJ: I don't think I'm classy enough - oh I get it brass ring!
KestingAJ: too bad it wasn't called nipple ring.
sjerslix: We tended to call it Ass Ring
KestingAJ: lol. I like that
sjerslix: The logo pretty much forced us to-- it was of this stick-figure guy (which the head honchos called Flash, and which everyone else called AssMan) straddling the Ass part of Brassring
sjerslix: You can see it here
KestingAJ: ass man - that is HILARIOUS. Love the logo.
sjerslix: We paid someone for that! No WONDER they had to lay me off -- they were spending money on AssMan and fancy paper clips.
They have since changed the logo, to something much more tasteful and less asslike. I have no idea if they're still producing the fancy paperclips.

Note: I have no idea if the production of cool paperclips was actually at all related to my layoff. Maybe it was the beanie babies instead.

7/09/2002

Various feedback on "Alice":

I talked with Tripp, who has the distinction of being a boy growing up, about the Alice issue. "Oh yeah, girl's book," he said. I sputtered a bit, and he said "It's about a blond chick named Alice. Of course it's a girl book."

While I have to concede that Tripp may have a better insight as to what a boy might consider a girl's book, I still think he's wrong. Everyone else I've talked to says it's a classic and for everyone. Granted, everyone else has been a girl.

But, but! I got an e-mail message from someone I don't even know, and he had this to say:

Your comment about kids books is interesting. When my son was very young I bought him one of the Maisey books by Lucy Cousins. Since then he has enjoyed many more and watched all the video's about the female mouse, he loves her to bits. It has never bothered me. I am about to start reading him Alice in Wonderland this week, as his brain is soaking up stories like nobody's business.

I have enjoyed books where the key figure/ hero(ine) is a woman, The Dark Material Trilogy, any book by CJ Cherrygh/ Anne McCaffrey etc. While I admit to a bit off a knee jerk panic when I arrived at nursery one day to find him playing with a doll, I would never stop him from reading a book with a strong female character.
Thank you, Stephen Wallis. And let me recommend Susan Cooper's The Dark is Rising series, as well at Madeline L'Engle's Wrinkle in Time and that series. All good stuff.

(Side note: I love getting mail from people I don't know. It's so cool to realize I'm not just talking to myself and my friends.)

A brief interlude

In other news. I saw my friend Shannon last night, who was in town for a conference. You know those people you can not see for two years and have it not matter, you just talk for hours about everything? That's Shannon. She's so cool. She comes from a completely overwhelmingly brilliant and funny family -- the latest news is that her mother has become an award-winning playwright. This does not surprise me in the least.

A rant on "artists"

One of the things we talked about was my decision to never, ever be involved in an artistic organization ever again. It's not because I don't support the mission -- it's because I just can't deal with some of the "artists." I don't know where they learn this, but I keep running into talented people who believe that, because they are talented, they can get away with anything.

Now, if I'd only run into one or two talented artists in my time, maybe I'd let it go. Maybe I'd dismiss it as part of the artistic temperament. Maybe I'd just think "Oh, the rules are different for the aesthetically blessed among us." But you know what? I know a lot of writers and actors and musicians. I've been lucky enough to know a lot of people who are good. Really good. Some of them are even earning-their-living-working-with-their-gift good. And most of them aren't assholes.

Most artists, most talented people I know, are actually worthwhile human beings as well as talented performers or writers or whatever. But I keep running into artists who belive the rules don't apply to them, that sacrifice is something other people have to do, that they don't need to listen to anyone else's thoughts on anything. When it comes to the pure creation of art, I can understand that. I'm not going to play the Emperor of Austria, telling Mozart "Too many notes." But I like to believe that I get involved in these enterprises because I do have something to contribute -- brains, or work, or the ability to get things done, or, god forbid, practicality. I'm nowhere near being Mozart, but I could be the sort of person who gets The Magic Flute funded and staged. But I can't do that if I'm so pissed off at the artists in question that I'm thisclose to homicide.

Now, if I were actually dealing with Mozart, I'd maybe be able to swallow my pride and look to the greater good of the venture in question. But the people I've dealt with, while talented, aren't Mozart. I'm not sure they're even Salieri. They're talented, they're good, they have an artistic vision to contribute, but they can't quite get away with being the self-absorbed schmucks they want to be.

Because I know people who are better than them. People who have more talent, and more humanity. A friend of mine, one of the funniest and most talented actors and improvisors I know, once told me that what he really wanted was to be told that he was full of shit sometimes. At the time, I responded to that statement with, "Wow, you really are full of shit -- who wants to be told they're full of shit?" But now I understand.

And so that's how I respond when I see someone with talent crossing the line into schmuckdom. And it doesn't go over so well.

This was brought to my attention again by an e-mail exchange Lotti was having with someone we used to work with in theater. Lotti sent out a message to god and everybody that she's getting married. Yay! Just letting people know. She got a vitriolic response from a former co-worker, basically saying she was the antichrist for the way she left the company and that in no way could she ever be considered a friend, because she's sooooo irresponsible.

I laughed my ass off.

Lotti, and I, and several other people, left this organization because of the "I do not need to follow the rules of normal human behavior" attitude exhibited by a couple of people in the group. This included things like, oh, walking out on a performance 15 minutes before curtain when we had no understudy because of ... I still don't know. A fit of pique. Artistic differences. A fucking hissyfit. (The stage manager went on for the actor in question. We all said "Oh! So that's what the part looks like when it's done well!") And then turning around and saying that the one who walked out should direct the next show. So hell yeah, we left. And hell yeah, we told people why. And if that means you didn't get funding from some people, you can hardly blame us for it. Funders aren't stupid. They don't want to throw money at a bunch of basket cases.

Again, the vast majority of talent people I know are vehemently not assholes. Trust me, you can be talented and creative and true to your art without being a schmuck. Don't let the schmucks get away with this behavior. It can only help art if we hold the artists responsible for their actions. If they back out on a commitment, that means they don't get paid. If they screw something up, they have to face the consequences. Holding their hands and making everything all right and cleaning up the messes does not mean you'll have a better artist -- it just means you'll have an immature asshole with talent on your hands. Think of what they could achieve if they weren't having temper tantrums. Think of what they could produce if they weren't holding their breath until they turned blue.

Grrr. Stupid artistes. Grow the fuck up.

7/07/2002

I was talking to my sister Laura, who will be having a boy in November, about gifts for the kid. In trying to distract me from noisy toys, she said: "Get us books and videos in Spanish." (Jorge, her husband, is Puerto Rican and they both taught Spanish) And I said great, but I'm also getting him Alice in Wonderland in English, because I want to read it to him. The following conversation ensued:

Laura: Are you sure? He's a boy.
Me: What are you talking about? It's a great book. I still read that book.
Laura: Don't you think it's a little... feminine?
Me: [foaming at the mouth] What? It's one of the greatest children's books of all time!
Laura: Yeah, but it's about a little girl wandering around... I don't want my kid being made fun of on the playground because of Alice in Wonderland...
Me: Wha... bu.... gah...Wait. It's a great book. A GREAT book. It's for everyone.
Laura: [Skeptical silence]
Me: Well, look, if it makes you feel better, there are beheadings. And hell, I'll be getting him a subscription to Ms. if that's your attitude...
Laura: Hey, I'm not painting trucks on the wall of the nursery or anything. We're going to raise him to be a good kid, and to treat everyone equally. But there's a difference between masculine and feminine.
Me: Sure, whatever. [In my head, I'm already planning my wacky-bohemian-aunt-Sarah-field-trips to Seneca Falls and the Museum of Menstruation and Michelle Yeoh film festivals and the like.]
I sometimes wonder if we're actually related. How could you not love Alice in Wonderland? Who cares if it had a female protagonist? (Or if it's about a drug trip, or if the author was maybe a little too enamored with the idea of young girls in general?) It's a fantastic book, and it's on my list of all-time great kids books, along with Where the Wild Things Are and The Velveteen Rabbit and Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day and so much more.

The thing is, we wouldn't be having this conversation if she were having a girl. I don't think she'd object to any book being too "masculine." We read Tom Sawyer and Treasure Island and all the rest growing up, because they're good books. I can't imagine anyone objecting to a girl reading books with male protagonists. I mean, that stuff is cool, right? Everybody gets into that. Girls are allowed to like books about boys, but girl stuff -- stories about girls --are still just girl stuff.

I don't have a kid, so I don't know what the standard practice is. Are you not supposed to read "girlie" books to boys? (I can understand not wanting to ply a boy with Barbie's Plastic Surgery Adventure, but hell, I wouldn't get that for a girl, either.) And is a a"girlie" book any book with a female protagonist, regardless of what she goes through? That seems so... limiting. And unfair. And silly. And insulting. Because it's saying "god forbid a boy should want to read about anything a girl does -- that's not important stuff, that's not real life." Bullshit.

And does that carry over into adult books? Is serious literature only about man stuff? Any book about a woman is a chick book or a beach book or otherwise not serious literature? A woman's life can't be an epic life?

No. Hell no. My nephew will be getting Alice in Wonderland, and Harriet the Spy, and Ramona Quimby, and the Wizard of Oz, and all the rest.

And here's the weird part: My sister and brother-in-law really aren't sexist. None of us growing up were frilly-dress girly-girls -- my sisters were tomboys and I was a Star War/fantasy book geek. There was running and playing and skateboarding and doing whatever we wanted, "feminine" or no. Laura and Jorge today travel the world and camp in grizzly bear country and generally kick ass. She's an amazing nature photographer, and she doesn't just sit back and look decorative to get her shots. And if her knee-jerk reaction is "Alice in Wonderland isn't for boys," what happens with all the folks who really do believe that girls should be frilly and boys should be macho and never the twain shall meet? Does that mean most boys never get to read this book? That's such a shame.

What is the standard practice? What do you read your children? Why? Is there a difference between girls' books and boys' books, or are there just great books?
You know what? I'm just not naturally a 9-to-5 sort of person. I was up and out for a walk before 9 a.m., worked from about 10 a.m. til about 2 p.m., napped for an hour and a half, and puttered around doing stuff for the rest of the day. I'm only now getting tired, and, to be honest, I'm fine with that.

Down with the pig-dog oppressor's fascist conception of contiguous working hours! Fie on their restrictive definition of work and life and all that crap! Nyahh!

Can you tell I've been reading a history of Paris? "And the French revolted.... And the French revolted....And the French revolted..."
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