I don’t think I was freaked out until I read this article. Thanks a lot, Alex.

A while back, Alex told me I had to read THE TIME TRAVELER’S WIFE. I looked at her like, What, you’re regressing back to our scifi days? Are we going to bust out with the Star Trek dolls — sorry, action figures – and play make-believe again?

Then she hit me over the head and said, No, you dope, I’m just trying to get you to read one of the most awesomest books ever.

Well, it went something like that anyway.

The book of course turned out to be fabulous — and not really scifi, although there is obviously time travel involved — and so when I stumbled across Writer Unboxed, I had to read their interview with the author, Audrey Niffenegger.

I figure writer’s block is a signal to stop working on something straight on and go at it sideways for a while.

I’m trying to put some order into my life, and not do everything for other people before I do my own work. It’s very hard to beat back the needs of other people, because taken singly, they seem so small and doable. Taken en mass they completely engulf me. So I am in the midst of attempting to make a new way for myself.

That reminds me SO much of myself, and the way I’m always dropping my own tasks to do what others ask of me. Work, parents, friends, Andy, Riley… (”Play! Let’s play! Take me outside! Wanna play?”) I always think, Oh sure, I can handle that, no big deal. And if it were just the one thing, or even the two, I probably could. But it’s never just one or two things.

It’s hard training myself to be more selfish — and more importantly, to not think of being “selfish” as bad. Really it’s more about focus, and priorities, and realistic expectations of self. I am not Superwoman, sadly. I am just me, trying to be an author.

Between shopping for a casual men’s jacket, going to Discovery Green in the rain, catching up with Barbara (Alex’s Momma #1 and my Momma #2), and spending hours trying (unsuccessfully) to get our sailboat’s motor to start, I unfortunately did not find time to upload any photos on Friday. I am so sorry. Please accept these fireworks as a display of my never ending regret.

“Not good enough!” Andy says. “Actions speak louder than intentions, and you did not meet your deadline. Thus you have failed, and I banish you to that vine-like prison.”

“What vine-like prison?” I ask.

“THAT ONE,” he says, pointing.

“Oh,” I say.

“Wait, this one’s prettier!” my mom chimes in.

“Hey! Whose side are you on?” I ask.

She takes a moment to consider her answer.

“Andy’s,” she finally replies.

“Oh,” I say.

And so it was that I came to be jailed by my mom and boyfriend in a giant red claw. Or something.

You know, I was walking out of the office yesterday afternoon thinking, “Oh, today’s Friday! That means I get to go home early and take a nap need to post a photo.”

And yet, here is it, 24 hours later, and no photo. (Or nap.)

[sigh]

To make up for it, here are several photos from The Best Place On Earth, aka Madrid. This is the view from a hostel I stayed in the first time I visited Madrid (summer ‘05). Behold el Gran Vía:

I remember waking up to the sounds of the city, climbing down out of my bunk, and slipping out onto the teeny tiny balcony with my camera. I stood there smiling down at the commotion and barely believing that I had come here all by myself. (Aisha stayed in Barcelona, then went to Vigo to see Claudio, then met back up with me for the return trip to Houston.) I gave myself two days to be with Madrid, and when I left, I knew it wasn’t enough.

The following year I arranged a summer study abroad session through IES, which included a homestay. My host Ana happened to live near my university and near the royal palace, and also happened to be a wonderful woman who liked to cook for me. It couldn’t have been more perfect if I’d written it.

Here is a horse-drawn chariot on the promenade by the palace, where I often did homework or other reading, writing, and thinking:

This is an ant:

No, Madrid doesn’t have an ant problem (at least not that I know of) but I thought it was a cool photo. I took it at a park in the western extremities of Madrid (I think Casa del Campo, but I can’t remember for sure) when Alex and Teo were both visiting me. We rode the cable car to the edge of the city and had a great view looking out over all of Madrid. (And yet, I posted the picture of the ant…)

Finally, this is a picture of el Parque del Buen Retiro, my favorite park in Madrid, in Spain, and maybe anywhere. Retiro is very much in the center of the city and its inhabitants usually reflect that. This was a typical night in the summer, full of activity, full of people, full of life.

Funny story: the first time I ever went to Retiro, some guy tried to hit on me. He told me I looked good, like I was dressed to go dancing in a club. At the time I was wearing a t-shirt and navy blue corduroy shorts.

Alex: she views it as an investment in me, and also as one of those things you do as a parent — you support your child in whatever way you can

Alex: i mean, if you were to replace the words “law school” with “drug habit,” there would be a different sentence there

Alex: one that ends in “boot camp

Dude, when did this happen, and why didn’t anyone tell me about it?

It looks great!!

–

From a cute article Alex sent me, titled “Your Friends Are Not Watching the Same Show You Are”:

To summarize the potato salad theory, fanfiction works for readers because the readers are already coming to the story with enough history and background to enjoy the story without piles of world-building and setup, much like stories that feature historical or mythological characters. We are bringing our own utensils and plates to the picnic, not expecting restaurant service. That’s fanfic. When it comes to our source material, we’re all bringing very different things to the table, and that’s going to affect what we consume.

As it happens, these preferences not only inform what we choose to watch in the first place, but also what we see when we get there. As when we sit in English class and interpret poetry, we each have our own particular take on the canon that’s unique to our backgrounds and histories.

And that’s okay.

–

Angie goes home tomorrow. :(

But we had fun while she was here!

So apparently yesterday was April Fool’s Day. Of course, I wasn’t really thinking about that when I opened my Gmail. I was thinking something more along the lines of, “Oh thank Google! I missed you so much!! I’ll never leave you ever again!”

As I browsed my oh-so-important emails (i.e., Xanga subscriptions, calendar notifications, and reminders about my live fantasy baseball drafts) I noticed something in the top right corner of my screen. Next to the Help and Settings links, there was something bold. And red. And with caps!

“NEW Gmail Custom Time!”

Whaaat?

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