tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-269456752024-03-05T20:52:41.971+01:00A Kitty Dreaming About WingsRamblings about this and that, writing, books, cats, coffee...angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.comBlogger204125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-91698600130226821762012-07-15T10:40:00.000+02:002012-07-15T10:41:05.546+02:00Blog Moved<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Packed and moved to
<a href="http://angel011.wordpress.com/">http://angel011.wordpress.com/</a></td></tr>
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To all who may be interested: in the spirit of <a href="http://sleepyangelcat.blogspot.com/2012/04/something-new.html" target="_blank">doing something new</a>, I've moved the blog to another location. It's still <a href="http://angel011.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">A Kitty Dreaming About Wings</a>, all of your lovely comments are there as well, just the address and the platform are new (well, new to me, many of you already use WordPress). So, see you there!</div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-8851071825800433362012-07-13T12:49:00.001+02:002012-07-13T12:49:59.437+02:00Good News, Not So Good News<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the spirit of the Friday the 13th</td></tr>
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At the end of the last week, I applied for a job as a writer for an online magazine for women. A couple of days ago, I found out they didn't accept me. Too bad.<br />
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On the other hand, yesterday I found out that my story was accepted for a vampire-themed anthology in Serbian; it should come out in September. Yay!<br />
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For the end, something that's not writing-related: on Monday, I made a pizza for the first time in I don't remember how many years, and it turned out good. Another <i>Yay!</i><br />
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Have a nice weekend, everyone! And remember to be nice to cats!</div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-52553894240973507482012-07-10T13:36:00.000+02:002012-07-10T13:36:52.906+02:00Stop Looking at the Screen and Look at Me!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at me! Oh, wait...</td></tr>
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There we were, in Zagreb, at the Eurocon, and at the socializing part of it: a meal at the brewery. Mediocre beer and not too bad barbecue at the affordable prices (affordable for us, the folks from UK and some other countries wouldn't even be able to find such a cheap meal in their own homelands). And did I mention socializing, meeting new people from all over the Europe, and an American or two, too?<br />
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Well, for one thing, we all followed our natural tendencies to sit with the people we arrived to Croatia with (although, it was the first day, we had three more days to meet whoever we wanted to meet). For the other, the first question the guys I was with asked the waiter was the WiFi password. And then, one of the guys was using his tablet (he was GTalking to his wife, since that was the cheapest was to talk to someone in another country), the other one was surfing the Internet on his phone, and the third one had his eyes glued to his netbook.<br />
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The rest of us were talking between ourselves and with them.<br />
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Part of me had a wish to tell them to stop looking at those screens and to look at us. The other part of me realized we had no trouble keeping the conversation going, so what's the problem? I mean, it's not like we were plotting an assassination or taking over the world or planning to help someone in dire need. Yeah, it's nice if people are not surfing the 'net or whatever while talking to you, but if they're still capable of responding in intelligent sentences, no biggie.<br />
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Now, I do find it annoying if people I'm trying to talk to are texting someone else or doing something equally distracting them from the conversation. But if they have no problem keeping the conversation going? Part of me still dislikes that I'm not getting their full attention, but I'm learning to live with it.<br />
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How about you? How do you feel about people looking at some screen while talking to you, and you're sitting right there ion front of them?</div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-18885756329384655672012-07-06T14:26:00.002+02:002012-07-06T14:26:49.636+02:00The Books I've Read In May<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
May has been a good month when it comes to reading -- well, mostly. I managed to read a bunch of books, and some of them were really good. So, without further delay, here they are, in the order in which I've read them.<br />
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<i>Irbis</i> by <a href="http://naprednainteligencija.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Aleksandar Žiljak</a>. This novel sort of reminded me of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0116225/" target="_blank">Escape from L.A.</a> It's fast-paced, full of action, there's the "do or die in horrible pain" catch, and the ending is just as vicious, although more optimistic. Above all, it's fun, and well worth a read. And the cover is adorable (you also get to see what an irbis is). The link leads to his blog, which is usually in Croatian, but there are posts in English too.<br />
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Ogledalo za vampira (A Mirror for a Vampire) by Adrijan Sarajlija. It's the first novel by a Serbian author who already had a pretty good story collection. It combines magical realism, horror, science fiction (sort of), and the structure is more of an acid trip (not that I have a first-hand experience of an acid trip) than of a novel. An interesting and a fun read, although some parts of it are not for those with a weak stomach.<br />
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Intrusion by Ken MacLeod. It's a creepy novel about Hope Morrison who lives in near future and refuses to take The Fix, a pill which would remove many possible genetic defects from her unborn child. She has no particular reason for refusing to take it, other than the wish to be left alone with her body and her pregnancy. The world she lives in is not that of totalitarianism, on the contrary; it's a democratic Western country where there is a lot of care for everyone's safety -- which leads to very little personal freedom, <i>and people fought for it to be that way in the name of democracy and safety and good life for everyone</i>. For example, every woman of a child-bearing age must wear a monitor ring, which informs the authorities if she is drinking alcohol while pregnant or engaging in other activities which might damage her unborn child -- all for the safety of the children. Another example: the police won't beat you up, they'll torture you instead with heated sterile needles, so there's no infection,and when they're done with you, they'll give you the number of the service which helps people cope with the trauma. To make it short: it's what the world might look like if people give away too much of their personal freedom in exchange for "safety" and "common good".<br />
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The Executioness by Tobias S. Buckell. It goes together with <i>The Alchemist</i> by Paolo Bacigalupi -- and <i>The Alchemist</i> was considerably better in exploring the society which lives under the threat of a magical (and extremely difficult to destroy, and often lethal) bramble which grows every time someone casts a spell -- and spells are quite easy to cast. So, it is illegal to use magic, and those who do it anyway get executed, normally by executors, but <i>The Executioness</i> tells a story of a woman who picked up her father's axe after he got too sick to perform his duty. The story is an interesting read, although too naive at times.<br />
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Preko rijeke (Across the River) by Dalibor Perković. Another book by a Croatian author, this time a story collection, some of them award-winning. The horrible truth about Jesus Christ. Extraterrestrial aliens and the war in former Yugoslavia -- the aliens had nothing to do with the war, some of them just happened to be in the area and were conducting their business -- the aliens were not nice by any means, it's just that humans can be even worse than that. A humorous story involving a time-travel machine and the sexual life of a couple. A story about the relationships between a deity and the folks worshiping that deity. Some of it was serious, some was funny, and overall, quite a good read.<br />
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The Last Watch by Sergei Lukyanenko. It's the fourth book in the series, following what should have been a trilogy, and it's mostly of the <i>what happened next</i> kind -- and something always happens, doesn't it?<br />
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Blackbirds by Chuck Wendig. Fun idea. Well thought-out characters. Well thought-out plot. Well thought-out everything. Feels like it was rewritten too many times, though, so some life was sucked out of the book. Fun anyway, and worth reading. Will read the next one for sure.<br />
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Bullet by Laurell Hamilton, the 19th book in the series about Anita Blake. Skip the first part. Skip the last part, unless to see the ending. From the middle, read every fifth page. You'll miss nothing of importance, skip the sex scenes, and won't read every single thought Anita had. That way, the book is tolerable. Sort of. To give you an example: in the first 30 pages or so, we get to see what everyone is wearing, and we get to learn that even a 3-year-old (or a 5-year-old, the author can't remember how old that character is) knows that Anita has sex with just about everyone. Then there are some emotional problems, guys (particularly one of them) talking about emotional problems, you get to know which one of the guys can give another guy oral sex without choking even if it goes deep (you were dying to know that, didn't you?), and then there's a long sex scene (three guys, one woman, homosexual sex, heterosexual sex, BDSM), and when it's over, you see you've read about the third of the entire book. It doesn't get better. Oh, and you get to read every single thought Anita has. The oral sex talk was way way more interesting, even if you weren't interested in it at all.<br />
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Hit List by Laurell Hamilton, the 20th book in the same series.** spoiler alert ** Yet another book where you get to read every single thought of Anita Blake. Some things happen, too, some people get injured, folks we were previously told were superfastsuperstrongsuperkillers are suddenly sloppy, the villain we were previously told might be unkillable gets defeated without much difficulty, and we get to read inner monologue of Anita Blake. At least she's less annoying than she used to be, so we don't read about her having issues and having issues, but growing up a bit and having less issues than she used to. Yay. Not.<br />
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Have you read something interesting lately?</div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-86410774749930535342012-07-04T12:46:00.001+02:002012-07-04T12:46:51.386+02:00Do We Have To Look Busy?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Do you ever just look around you and do nothing special?</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
There I was, sipping McDonald's cappuccino (not much of a choice, I know), and looking around me. It was somewhat early, so there was no crowd. Some teens were surfing the Internet -- some people come to McDonald's for free Internet alone. A middle-aged gentleman has finished reading his papers and was going through his phone. Two young women were talking and laughing.<br />
<br />
Then I remembered other times, and not just in McDonald's. Folks sit in such places, eat and/or drink, read newspapers, go through their phones, some have their laptops with them, some talk to other people (and check their laptops or phones at the same time)... They are all either engaged in a conversation (which is perfectly fine) or otherwise busy. It's quite rare to see someone just eating or drinking and being idle, looking around, thinking their thoughts... It's like everyone must do something, like it's a crime not being busy. I caught myself thinking about tweeting, even though I had nothing to tweet about. Or thinking about reading a book, except that I had none with me.<br />
<br />
It made me wonder: what is it that makes us believe we have to be busy at all times? Sometimes we do have to check our phones or mail or whatever even while grabbing something to eat, or prepare ourselves for some business task, but all the time? Why? Why can't we just sit, look around ourselves, watch people, birds, cats, dogs, sunshine, think our thoughts without thinking about grocery lists or jobs?<br />
<br />
How about you? Do you ever just sit alone with a cup of coffee or a snack and allow yourself to get lost in thoughts, or to just look around you, without the need to take a picture of it?</div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-56490862187079877572012-07-01T20:07:00.000+02:002012-07-01T20:07:29.649+02:00Still Looking For Coffee Cats, I Guess<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaqzhRi4u3_Qva6rl1xVWM9Q_Putz35cyPZH09F-mCvwPGOcVa1aa7PI9D2JQpm28wXac5B9MqPB02dgoUgQvqdNeIh3iJCIPNnmDOI628vhfoUikojtKFRbTVTkCuwPleLhbEsw/s1600/zenkitty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaqzhRi4u3_Qva6rl1xVWM9Q_Putz35cyPZH09F-mCvwPGOcVa1aa7PI9D2JQpm28wXac5B9MqPB02dgoUgQvqdNeIh3iJCIPNnmDOI628vhfoUikojtKFRbTVTkCuwPleLhbEsw/s400/zenkitty.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Listen to the zen kitty.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Every once in a while, I check out what keywords people used and ended up here. I wrote about the results <a href="http://sleepyangelcat.blogspot.com/2012/03/how-do-you-find-me.html" target="_blank">here</a> -- basically, people look for coffee&cats and find me.<br />
<br />
So, here's a new round of the keywords people used and got here, it's from the last month.<br />
<br />
- coffee cat<br />
- cat coffee (yeah, you can try it like that too)<br />
- need more coffee (try making some?)<br />
- cat with coffee<br />
- coffee cats<br />
- 10 matchstick triangles (probably because of <a href="http://sleepyangelcat.blogspot.com/2012/06/flash-fiction-challenge-bone-cathedral.html" target="_blank">The Bone Cathedral</a>)<br />
- blue and white animated bird (<a href="http://sleepyangelcat.blogspot.com/2012/01/put-it-away-will-ya.html" target="_blank">this one</a>, perhaps?)<br />
- how do you find me? (<a href="http://sleepyangelcat.blogspot.com/2012/03/how-do-you-find-me.html" target="_blank">heh</a>)<br />
- ivana skrobonja (sorry to disappoint you, but that's not me; my name is Ivana and I translate and sometimes write for Goran Skrobonja, who's a writer, a translator and a publisher, so maybe that's what confused Google to lead you here)<br />
- kitty doing zen (I agree, cats are totally zen)<br />
<br />
The first results were from March, and these are from June; do you think I should be writing about other things, not just cats and coffee?<br />
<br />
Oh, wait, I'm already doing that. Google Almighty doesn't seem to notice, though. Not that it troubles me; cats and coffee and zen are fine subjects, and if that's what I'm recognized for, nice.<br />
<br />
And, since you're here, would you like some coffee? Take your pick:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsoJrmgCPad_Yk1IUVhKxoYltO-loFVQliaRmVa210gZS1AndklBuedzmm-RvFSarW5_iB_WrYq3Th9NyxnpBl8DrbAXDl0gClOlh-xV4YrbiumxJmjqcMqaVLDICHjz8dDgdrTw/s1600/blackcream.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsoJrmgCPad_Yk1IUVhKxoYltO-loFVQliaRmVa210gZS1AndklBuedzmm-RvFSarW5_iB_WrYq3Th9NyxnpBl8DrbAXDl0gClOlh-xV4YrbiumxJmjqcMqaVLDICHjz8dDgdrTw/s400/blackcream.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coffee?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-83880714646965208912012-06-25T14:28:00.000+02:002012-06-25T14:28:19.818+02:00Keep the Introduction Short, Please<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ82-oo0-ENHnXl1EaBhF9HCc4y0LvgM578dezO0u1Q0YZ3dIBPy17XYffBFwgf9gSZUh0PGQ3sCd7f6tZ0UMOodERRWy_XDmo41OZc6gZilsZazMapbTyLcpzjW8EiTrgsIQ1LQ/s1600/boredcat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ82-oo0-ENHnXl1EaBhF9HCc4y0LvgM578dezO0u1Q0YZ3dIBPy17XYffBFwgf9gSZUh0PGQ3sCd7f6tZ0UMOodERRWy_XDmo41OZc6gZilsZazMapbTyLcpzjW8EiTrgsIQ1LQ/s400/boredcat.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Recently I’ve
read a book which I’m not going to name here, because the problem I’ll
talk about does not appear in this one book only. And the problem is: the
introduction was way too long and way too boring.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The book is an anthology, and the subject is such
that it should be a fun book and mostly a light read. There are two editors,
and each one of them wrote an introduction. Each of the introductions goes on
and on about what they liked to read when they were kids, and how much they
liked it, and how they found some other likable stuff to read and watch, and
how those various things could actually go pretty well together, and how much
they liked all that, and... Each of the introductions was about 10 pages long.
In both of them, the editors mostly talked about themselves and what they liked
and how it led to this particular anthology, but failed to say much about the
anthology itself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was pretty late at the time I was reading these
introductions and I was tired, but couldn’t sleep because it was too darn hot.
I doubt that it improved either my mood or my patience. Still, I find it
difficult to imagine I’d enjoy reading them no matter the time and the weather.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I almost gave up on the entire book because of the
introductions; it’s highly unlikely that’s what the editors tried to achieve, and
it’s not like they’re new to the business. The only reason I didn’t give up on
the book was that I expected the stories to entertain me quite a bit (sadly, it
didn’t happen, the stories were, except for one, ineptly written, or childish,
or too much down the <i>anything goes</i>
alley, or all of it).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">An introduction to an anthology, as far as I can
tell, doesn’t need to be longer than 2 pages; if the editor or whoever wants to
talk some more about certain details of the book, that can be put in the
afterword and, also important, it should be interesting to read and to the
point (there should also <i>be</i> a point).
I don’t mind learning how a particular book came to be; what I do mind is
reading meandering and long-winded introductions (or meandering and long-winded
anything), unless it is done in such a way that it is really
fun/interesting/informative to read. I don’t count every little thing you liked
as a kid informative, sorry. I’m aware that I can just skip the introduction,
but why putting in a book something so boring a reader would want to skip?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This was the first time that the introduction to a
book made me want to give up on the entire thing (and not even because of
something it said about the anthology!); normally I enjoy them. How do you feel
about introductions? Do you skip them, or read them? Has an introduction ever
made you want to give up on the book? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-76443025213067091272012-06-18T14:38:00.000+02:002012-06-18T14:39:06.053+02:00Monday Fun: The Holy Sinner by Thomas Mann<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/6/62/TheHolySinner.jpg/200px-TheHolySinner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/6/62/TheHolySinner.jpg/200px-TheHolySinner.jpg" width="291" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">*giggles*</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">One of the books I’ve recently read was <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Holy_Sinner" target="_blank">The Holy Sinner</a> by Thomas Mann. I kept
giggling while reading it, or at least thinking of giggling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Now, this is not a review. It’s more my impressions,
and what made me giggle so much; there’s a bunch of spoilers too, so proceed at
your own risk. Oh, and there’s religious matter, so if you’re easily offended,
you might be offended by this too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The story is told by a monk Clemens, in a somewhat
old-fashioned way and in a sugary tone. He tells us of a brother and sister,
twins, of noble birth, who loved each other very, very much. They loved each
other so much that they were expecting a baby (so now you know <i>how</i> they loved each other). Realizing
that they have a problem, they talked to their trusted advisor, who suggested
that the brother went on a pilgrimage, while the sister would go to the advisor’s
castle and have her baby there, in secrecy. Not knowing what else to do, they
agreed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The sister was oh so mourning being separated from
her beloved brother (the sugary tone, remember?). She gave birth to a beautiful
little boy, whom the advisor wrapped in expensive silk, placed him in a barrel,
put lots of gold and a message on a plate in it, and left the barrel in the
sea, to God’s mercy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And so on, and so forth; the little boy grew up into
a strong young man, Gregory, who helped a noble woman when her city was under siege,
and married her, and had two daughters with her, only to discover he had
married his own mother. And oh, they were so horrified, and so she went on to
take care of cripples and such, while he went to become a hermit and to sit on
a stone far away from the shore. Still the sugary tone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And then some more things happened, and then Gregory
became Pope Gregory.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And there’s the <i>Children,
don’t do this at home</i> conclusion (don’t sin, things worked out for them in
the end but they suffered a lot, don’t do it, kids).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Hilarious.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Now, I’m fully aware that there’s more to this book,
that this is Thomas Mann trying to explore some really serious stuff like sin
and evil and so on, but still, it’s hilarious, and if someone tells me Germans
have no sense of humor, I’ll throw this book at him/her. Well, I won’t, because
it’s my mother’s and I gave it back to her, but you know what I mean.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Have you read anything funny recently?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-60125504816490335212012-06-13T14:07:00.000+02:002012-06-13T14:07:37.294+02:00Flash Fiction Challenge: The Bone Cathedral<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid4YdhxJXPSWEjinLYlGAHJwZ2tEtcZT38fGbsEk03FHHavKuGGDCNa9Iv8s20xZL7lBfyzeZ1DmhFRoWVPeGhsXU_BK1GGS8nM2uzBJn5s-lsBOu90TTgtrdmNuVo6paXM3EzxA/s1600/matchstick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="391" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid4YdhxJXPSWEjinLYlGAHJwZ2tEtcZT38fGbsEk03FHHavKuGGDCNa9Iv8s20xZL7lBfyzeZ1DmhFRoWVPeGhsXU_BK1GGS8nM2uzBJn5s-lsBOu90TTgtrdmNuVo6paXM3EzxA/s400/matchstick.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Blame it on Chuck Wendig and his flash fiction challenge!<br />
<br />
Fine. Don't blame him, he just gave me the idea -- and if you wish to blame someone, blame me for clumsy writing.<br />
<br />
Anyway, you can read about the challenge <a href="http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2012/06/08/flash-fiction-challenge-choose-your-setting/" target="_blank">here</a> (basically, pick one of the 6 possible settings, and write a story around it in no more than 1000 words), and here's what I came up with:<br />
<br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The Bone
Cathedral<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Honey, I really think you should talk
to him. I know that some boys torture bugs, but <i>this</i> is freaking me out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’ll take care of it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Son, this is... Impressive.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“It’s just a model.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“A model?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Yes, it’s tiny. No real people could
get in to pray. I just wanted to see if I could do it. If I could make it so it
would stand.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“So, it was a one-time thing? Well, you
certainly made it. Where did you get all those little bones?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Mice and rats.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Live mice and rats? How did you...?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, they’re not alive anymore. And
Mrs. Smith is no longer complaining about mice in her kitchen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“But how did you... Oh, never mind, once
you set your mind to something, you do it. But tell me, why bones? You little
cathedral is impressive, but why didn’t you just use matches or something?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Because we’re all made of bones. We
should pray among the bones.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“What... Oh. I didn’t think that seeing
that Roentgen photography of your brother’s leg would upset you so much.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“It didn’t upset me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, did you pray for his fast
recovery?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“I told you, it’s a model. It’s too
little. I’d need bigger bones for a real one.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“We don’t have to pray among the bones,
and besides, we’re not made just of bones, we’re also flesh and blood and
nerves and other stuff.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“But when we die, isn’t it bones that
remain?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“After a while, yes. But after some more
time, there’s only dust.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“At the end, we’re dust? Like, after a
fire, when everything burns?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Something like that, yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Oh.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Honey, when I said you should talk to
him, I didn’t mean that you should give him more ideas.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-11687456360453670512012-06-11T19:02:00.000+02:002012-06-11T19:02:10.305+02:00Back to Work<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://redroom.com/files/images/cat-on-computer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="371" src="http://redroom.com/files/images/cat-on-computer.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't expect this...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
I didn't expect this.<br />
<br />
What I expected was to go to Croatia and visit my family, and then to get back home, and back to work. But it turned out that SO got a vacation just when I got back, and since this time I didn't have a deadline to finish the translation, it meant I could just relax with him. Which I, of course, did. And enjoyed it.<br />
<br />
And now, I start working again, later than I expected. It feels a bit weird, both not working for so long, and then starting again. What also feels a bit weird is slipping into the old routine so easily (come to think of it, that's what routines are for, you easily slip into them and get the work done without much fuss).<br />
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I'm not even sure what the point of this post is, other than me feeling slightly puzzled, and trying to figure it out. Does any of this - unexpectedness, not working for longer than you expected, and yet easily falling back into the routine - sounds familiar to you?<br />
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P.S. Hopefully, my next post will have more of a point - you'll get to read some flash fiction. Stay tuned!</div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-88791264198469964942012-06-08T17:53:00.000+02:002012-06-08T17:53:07.526+02:00Cleaning Out Our TARDIS Closets<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i292.photobucket.com/albums/mm37/klngonktty/LOL%20Cats/ClosetKitty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="282" src="http://i292.photobucket.com/albums/mm37/klngonktty/LOL%20Cats/ClosetKitty.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sadly, we found no cats in our closets.</td></tr>
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Have you ever noticed how a closet is bigger on the inside than on the outside, just like a TARDIS?<br />
That is, if you're trying to clean it up; otherwise, there's never enough space in it.<br />
<br />
SO and I have been cleaning some of our closets, and no, it's not a metaphor; we we're throwing out some old stuff we were not using anymore, so our closets would be neat and tidy again. Well, somewhat neat and tidy. We piled up stuff we were no longer using -- we piled it up everywhere on the floor where we could find some space for it. And that's when I've noticed it. I looked at all those things, some of them possibly older than me (although not older as a good wine goes old -- quite the opposite), and I wondered how could all that possibly fit into our closets, which were pretty small. There was only one explanation: each and every one of our closets was a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/TARDIS" target="_blank">TARDIS</a>, minus the time travel ability (and minus the police box look, they only look like closets -- what can I say, obsolete models).<br />
<br />
Or maybe they lead to Narnia, but Aslan had no use for old rags either?<br />
<br />
Or is my imagination working overtime? Nah. No such thing, there's never too much imagination.<br />
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Have you ever noticed something similar about your closets, or something else unusual about either your closets or some other part of your home?</div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-53929926549137393402012-05-31T12:40:00.001+02:002012-05-31T12:45:39.758+02:00Who Likes to Travel?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Z0L_bGJh8cmK7gQ1_1U-9RLdH9KhN8SZ-ke_gGBLsGMr2a4aeap7U2eTfhd1wyp0-gGeGR6mZTz3tleXUF6GR_9ZeeavY8z3Q6eSi3NunubZBJwG88E0fF1EICiGd8HTBrUoAw/s1600/IMG_4714.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Z0L_bGJh8cmK7gQ1_1U-9RLdH9KhN8SZ-ke_gGBLsGMr2a4aeap7U2eTfhd1wyp0-gGeGR6mZTz3tleXUF6GR_9ZeeavY8z3Q6eSi3NunubZBJwG88E0fF1EICiGd8HTBrUoAw/s400/IMG_4714.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who can resist seawater?</td></tr>
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I know, I know, I've been a bad blogger, neglecting this blog for a while. And I had the intention to write about a lot of things, so I guess I'll start at a random point - my recent trip to Croatia. Not to Zagreb and the Eurocon, but the later one, to visit my dad and my brother in Omišalj.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB8p7V4lFkHvGii75g5VqFg5xikJK0v1yvbp_8VRaq2SqMGXEShiX7Kwdk1-eyy2E_ctRH_pFO23zmhS9YMy4H4dYqgHuTqXuUITXTOtZHUjZ5eX3AgrkOvdELyCqQDgj9zW8upQ/s1600/IMG_4707.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB8p7V4lFkHvGii75g5VqFg5xikJK0v1yvbp_8VRaq2SqMGXEShiX7Kwdk1-eyy2E_ctRH_pFO23zmhS9YMy4H4dYqgHuTqXuUITXTOtZHUjZ5eX3AgrkOvdELyCqQDgj9zW8upQ/s400/IMG_4707.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snow in the Southern Europe. In the middle of May.</td></tr>
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It was threatening to rain when I got into the bus in Belgrade; on my way to Omišalj, I passed through some dry weather, some downpours, and at one point, in Gorski kotar, we passed through snow. On the May 16th. The entire trip was a bit more than 500 kilometers, in Southern Europe. Go figure.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn_X4Zi2uDD0ticAar1Lzxzon9Dc6XDaivIMwIWiIJUipizNLUjkzzS1RZqeNYElMxfJg8hJL5cL9NN4dGHzb1gdQtZAYsxdxL3s34cipDBQRe3eVXQR_xNfIjxN_guN10MUVYcg/s1600/IMG_4761.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn_X4Zi2uDD0ticAar1Lzxzon9Dc6XDaivIMwIWiIJUipizNLUjkzzS1RZqeNYElMxfJg8hJL5cL9NN4dGHzb1gdQtZAYsxdxL3s34cipDBQRe3eVXQR_xNfIjxN_guN10MUVYcg/s400/IMG_4761.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stairs to one of the mini-beaches.</td></tr>
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In my <a href="http://sleepyangelcat.blogspot.com/2012/04/something-new.html" target="_blank">previous post</a>, I was writing about learning new stuff. On this trip, I realized something that was probably pretty obvious: we learn new stuff all the time. I've learned a new way to eat a kiwi (cut away the top and eat the rest with a teaspoon), and I've also noticed some mini-beaches I haven't paid attention to before. They're pretty neat - the stairs are for sure-footed people, not your elderly grandma, but then you get to that little peace of stone for just two of you (or the four of you, depending on the size of the mini-beach), with your own entrance into the sea. Be warned, though: although the place is small enough and secluded enough that nobody but the two of you will have the room for sunbathing there, it is <b>not</b> your private beach in the sense that you can do there what you otherwise wouldn't do in public (wink wink, nudge nudge, <i>Know what I mean</i>, <i>Know what I mean</i>?).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUehm-7oeBWCRQZqMrHEmNRNgiWg2ooNg9m-gUt9GUpR3uPUoyLC086XJK0HVDpSlk6SL4WdHUWOfrvc5_Zn9TU_ljctKJ8eR-U93rb74Ky_S3iFZ3P0E9QYSmoyc7beBdEG9Inw/s1600/IMG_4760.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUehm-7oeBWCRQZqMrHEmNRNgiWg2ooNg9m-gUt9GUpR3uPUoyLC086XJK0HVDpSlk6SL4WdHUWOfrvc5_Zn9TU_ljctKJ8eR-U93rb74Ky_S3iFZ3P0E9QYSmoyc7beBdEG9Inw/s400/IMG_4760.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A mini-beach.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I'm happy to see my family, of course, but I'm always happy to see someone else who resides there: Roko, getting older and older, and more deaf, but still as adorable as always.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPQ-bQlm051fOKTPyMkeWJtbY_AwtVd51Swi47RznJX9AFmY0rgPVfj05pT9_36v2a4w7fIf6_dN4bFkELcA_atvgCeL2_gytwRwndNP7Yt8pJRPFBuEn_ub_S8AiITzjcbvtJxg/s1600/IMG_4711.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPQ-bQlm051fOKTPyMkeWJtbY_AwtVd51Swi47RznJX9AFmY0rgPVfj05pT9_36v2a4w7fIf6_dN4bFkELcA_atvgCeL2_gytwRwndNP7Yt8pJRPFBuEn_ub_S8AiITzjcbvtJxg/s400/IMG_4711.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roko, an elderly canine gentleman.</td></tr>
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Enjoy in the pictures!<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOk-vRQQZyqKM2Fi-gBKMvU2EPpNzURrzz58L1CWKDZ5lw398-A-WulQ4jSj6Pl2AiDsGeaeaEc55n0PVPxF9m5K9UmKLKtA-efMrexyYPWrnjvxIFS5iL2RxV896BXlwRLFCsHQ/s1600/IMG_4752.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOk-vRQQZyqKM2Fi-gBKMvU2EPpNzURrzz58L1CWKDZ5lw398-A-WulQ4jSj6Pl2AiDsGeaeaEc55n0PVPxF9m5K9UmKLKtA-efMrexyYPWrnjvxIFS5iL2RxV896BXlwRLFCsHQ/s400/IMG_4752.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Cuddly as always - unless he sees you as a threat to the family.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEv-IhccftDeXO64IkIfyWf3LjISiCRv0so-2R6qz3HeXriKXL-5JNoXB80r6Egh5ZPQjAHdtyRRtz48-I4Of00-FRY6WGDAnj_fuxTMt_GAUKWQ8r1oHlkQ3lvb3nLvbjlUY_pA/s1600/IMG_4720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEv-IhccftDeXO64IkIfyWf3LjISiCRv0so-2R6qz3HeXriKXL-5JNoXB80r6Egh5ZPQjAHdtyRRtz48-I4Of00-FRY6WGDAnj_fuxTMt_GAUKWQ8r1oHlkQ3lvb3nLvbjlUY_pA/s400/IMG_4720.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A shadow on the stairs.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9NaJsmEipl4v_1yuyyglGoh-kNeF4t13BMx2Rg8xh_WcR8_7edtUWJ4WZoMgpiUCtAerH23wKgj6lAUNvvBsdleXml7rTVQ40ZWBiuAUWUB45VDAh9ZzpSfj2KB0URbfDY_ZkLw/s1600/IMG_4713.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9NaJsmEipl4v_1yuyyglGoh-kNeF4t13BMx2Rg8xh_WcR8_7edtUWJ4WZoMgpiUCtAerH23wKgj6lAUNvvBsdleXml7rTVQ40ZWBiuAUWUB45VDAh9ZzpSfj2KB0URbfDY_ZkLw/s400/IMG_4713.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj27Cx90xjfVSKgDCvEJpnTEGzeOoeh2B0VbxA5uqaD29RniwT1e3OgeKMwdC5thZDlGw8zF4Xyu8MhxDuPagPmZU_5idrtOwO7u6MJcGh1MxnRtx5QnkrIUzfn5QMydiJKZ4y52g/s1600/IMG_4768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj27Cx90xjfVSKgDCvEJpnTEGzeOoeh2B0VbxA5uqaD29RniwT1e3OgeKMwdC5thZDlGw8zF4Xyu8MhxDuPagPmZU_5idrtOwO7u6MJcGh1MxnRtx5QnkrIUzfn5QMydiJKZ4y52g/s400/IMG_4768.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sea in the rain.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirUj7aDb6O07UeTy6mgU1rv3i8aU-JYvgEJzzMyGW-ab_5zUwNnqLL01uYKVyNHscTZLefIvzdryiXpVi1R_XJFlQShtthH89kWwj2POpdJsldAcH6ElqUXfVo5p1uhzqC97IJpg/s1600/IMG_4729.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirUj7aDb6O07UeTy6mgU1rv3i8aU-JYvgEJzzMyGW-ab_5zUwNnqLL01uYKVyNHscTZLefIvzdryiXpVi1R_XJFlQShtthH89kWwj2POpdJsldAcH6ElqUXfVo5p1uhzqC97IJpg/s400/IMG_4729.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sea in the sun.</td></tr>
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</div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-69410650952638442142012-04-02T09:28:00.000+02:002012-04-02T09:28:47.444+02:00Something New<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbb5IXGW5_1eOC6sHlK3_o0B2F-9PSsou-hmhKtpOjjoCQ51xRDWhrpKIFFBkyWk1QETqVycgc4Yk-YJ0nBl7CFrtKjYVNjfhICXW1G7tQoW76GyQSlJsgtqCnK6A0jm6KWaFjag/s1600/catsellingstuff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="335" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbb5IXGW5_1eOC6sHlK3_o0B2F-9PSsou-hmhKtpOjjoCQ51xRDWhrpKIFFBkyWk1QETqVycgc4Yk-YJ0nBl7CFrtKjYVNjfhICXW1G7tQoW76GyQSlJsgtqCnK6A0jm6KWaFjag/s400/catsellingstuff.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Would you like to buy this book?</td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I believe that new experiences are very important for us. They’re important for us as human beings who wish to keep growing as such, and they’re crucial for writers – if I don’t have my own personal experiences, what am I going to write about? My childhood? Of being bored and stagnant and empty? It’s something to write about too, but it can only get me so far until I’m left without anything to say and until everything I write starts looking as a fake and a lousy retelling.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">How do you pick something new to do, some other area to explore? It’s up to you and to your interests, whether those interests are big or small or just something which will pass within a week. It can be learning a new language, exploring the woods close to your home, starting to take more pictures and playing with photography, looking for new recipes and trying them out... Anything, really.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">What I did recently was to join a Serbian auction website. One part of it designed for auctions, and the other for selling and buying at fixed prices. I did it both as doing something new, and as a way to sell some stuff, books mostly (my own short story collection, plus a bunch of books I own but will not read again, nor will I give them as gifts – you know the kind, you buy them on a whim, read them, have no wish to read them again, and don’t know anyone who’d actually love to have them).<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was scary. Not much, but still. You see, I’m an introvert. I’m anti-social. It’s not that I hate people; I don’t. I just want them to stay away. And if I’m going to sell them stuff, well, I’ll have to communicate with them, to answer their questions, meet them in town and bring them books (if they’re from the same town as I am – that’s the simplest way). Scary.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So far, I didn’t have unpleasant experiences (well, it’s only been a week). The very first day I put up some books for sale at the fixed price part, I sold one. The guy who bought the book contacted me immediately. He didn’t live in my town, but it turned out that his dad did, so we agreed that I would meet with his dad and give him the book, and he’d give me the money. It all went without problems, his dad turned out to be a polite elderly gentleman used to meet with people who sold books to his son. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But still. A new experience, plus communicating with people. Scary.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The other book I sold went to another guy. The meeting with the elderly gentleman was still two days away (we agreed on the time which suited us both, and it wasn’t the same day), but with this other guy, it went faster, on the same day the book was marked as sold. In other words, it was the first time I did it, went to the place where we agreed to meet (a public place, of course), and I was a bit nervous. It’s not that I was scared of that particular guy, or of the possibility that he could be a lunatic with a machine gun – I checked him out on the auction site, and several people already stated that they sold him stuff and it all went just fine, so I had no reason to be afraid of him. It was that nervousness of doing something for the first time, and it was the darn communicating with people – and in person at that.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The guy – a young man, in his early twenties perhaps – showed up in a tow truck, the one they use to remove cars from the no-parking zones. I have no idea whether he was in the middle of the working hours, or was just finishing his shift and used the tow truck as his own vehicle, or what; we didn’t chat, it all went pretty quick, give the book, take the money, say <i>bye</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We call those tow trucks ‘spiders’, so I was joking, later, that I sold a book to a Spider-Man.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So. Doing something new, making two sales, and I have stories to tell, of an elderly gentleman whose son lives in another town and loves buying books, and of a young man who came in a tow truck to pick up a book. Well, not exactly stories, but certainly nice details, at least.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Not to mention, while doing something new can be a bit scary, it’s also fun, and good. The little bit of money added to it doesn’t hurt, either.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When was the last time you did something new?<o:p></o:p></span></div></div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com187tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-3317015101008534862012-03-23T15:29:00.000+01:002012-03-23T15:29:26.419+01:00How Do You Find Me?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://images.cheezburger.com/completestore/2010/5/30/129197417093621556.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="381" src="http://images.cheezburger.com/completestore/2010/5/30/129197417093621556.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coffee and cats, that's what people seem to like.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
Just a quick one, since I'm supposed to work.<br />
<br />
From time to time, I check out the stats of my blog, and also the keywords readers used to find me. The champions for this month are:<br />
<br />
- coffee cat<br />
- blue british kitty<br />
- cat coffee<br />
- broken computer kitty<br />
- cat on coffee<br />
- coffee kitty<br />
- kitty and a camera<br />
- kitty camera<br />
- need coffee meme<br />
- british cat computer<br />
<br />
My conclusion? If I want this blog to be read, I should be writing more about cats and about coffee. I should also post more coffee/kitty related pictures.<br />
<br />
How do people stumble upon your blogs, what keywords do they use?<br />
<br />
I hope you all have a nice weekend!</div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-25491932927436576962012-03-12T14:19:00.000+01:002012-03-12T14:19:59.980+01:00"We Vegetarians"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1259/795528210_68dbca4006_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="270" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1259/795528210_68dbca4006_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They are all kittens, but they're not all same.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">You could easily change the </span><i style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">vegetarians</i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> from the title with any other word, as in, we the waffle-lovers enjoy this, we the pie-eaters love that, to stick just with the food. What remains is the statement that WE ALL want this or that, love this or that, dislike this or that, and that is just wrong.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I remember reading an article written by a vegetarian lady, she said that people often think that vegetarians dislike the taste of meat, which is simply not true – they love the taste of meat and greatly enjoy, for example, the meat-flavored soy substitutes, like soy sausages. I have no doubt that this lady spoke the truth about herself, and perhaps about a lot of vegetarians she personally knows. However, I do have a vegetarian aunt who seriously dislikes the taste of meat, and who also hates substitutes, the imitations of meat or milk products which don’t actually come from the animals. If she’s not going to eat meat, milk, eggs, anything coming from animals, then she’s not going to eat it, and she won’t be looking for the substitutes either, not when it comes to the taste substitutes (she will look for the other nutritional sources, of course).<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">When we talk about vegetarians, we talk about a wide variety of people. Some of them don’t eat meat, but do eat milk and milk products, eggs, honey, some eat fish too – and some of them will look for meat-flavored food, while the other won’t. Then there are vegetarians who will eat milk but not eggs, and vice versa. There are those who will not eat anything coming from an animal. There are also those who will refuse to eat anything that was cooked or baked or fried, only raw stuff is acceptable. And, of course, they all have their reasons for doing so, some do it for health, or because they think eating animal products is unethical, some say they do it out of sympathy for the animals, and so on.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And this was just scratching the surface, there could be many other differences among the people who are all vegetarians in their own way.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The same could be said for any other group of people – for example, saying that all of us women want the same and are the same is simply ridiculous. Perhaps, instead of <i>we vegetarians</i> (or, let’s say, <i>we women</i>, since I’m not a vegetarian myself), it would be better to say <i>many of vegetarians</i>, <i>or some vegetarians</i> – but not <i>all</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Maybe I’m nitpicking, but I really dislike these <i>we</i> (as in <i>all of us</i>, and without knowing the opinion of every one of <i>us</i>) statements, they immediately make me think: <i>Hey, wait a minute, I know so-and-so who is (enter what he/she is) but is not like that at all! Come to think of it, I know a plenty of 9enter what they are) who are not like that at all!</i><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">What are your thoughts on the subject? Do you ever get annoyed at such statements?<o:p></o:p></span></div></div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-41897020720805223672012-03-05T17:44:00.000+01:002012-03-05T17:44:16.527+01:00Chimney Cake!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Sometime last year, <a href="http://www.otooltvanji.com/" target="_blank">a fellow writer Oto Oltvanji</a> recommended chimney cake on his Facebook status. Last Thursday, I managed to try one (two, actually, but more about that later), and I can recommend it too, although I suppose it might create you problems if you're on a weight-loss mission.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj70uPDCLpkn4fqNH2b9jhOpk8MJvtu4amneLsv9Vm4cmBN0el4d_HMBlGxE2HxSbJwFxcmg_Jd4FcT03u3HB3VQmasvYI9u99UTtqLWQ5cleYqq6wkiQT7_VC4s60_rvFE_RE7vw/s1600/IMG_4519.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj70uPDCLpkn4fqNH2b9jhOpk8MJvtu4amneLsv9Vm4cmBN0el4d_HMBlGxE2HxSbJwFxcmg_Jd4FcT03u3HB3VQmasvYI9u99UTtqLWQ5cleYqq6wkiQT7_VC4s60_rvFE_RE7vw/s400/IMG_4519.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A cinnamon chimney cake on the outside.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
You can read what Wikipedia says about the chimney cake <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/K%C3%BCrt%C5%91skal%C3%A1cs" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
<br />
Go on and read it, I'll wait. It's not long, promise, but it will give you an idea about a delicious cake.<br />
<br />
Managed to get back? Are you drooling yet?<br />
<br />
In the very small store where they make them and sell them in Belgrade, there are 6 flavors: cinnamon, chocolate, vanilla, hazel, almond, and coconut. You get them freshly baked, still hot; they're packaged in such a way they're still warm by the time you get home, provided you don't open them before you're ready to eat.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA-_PWcpEyDHz_HjYThryx49TiPfyYpAkm3i6ikAXHo2mdMXtS8XsZZd5hqUlbth2R35kq5LSG0lqd2NSOBmZQRYS692odoQ1xILqDfp3uipbrHLpqm3HPPacfj4legvfVF0xmog/s1600/IMG_4520.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA-_PWcpEyDHz_HjYThryx49TiPfyYpAkm3i6ikAXHo2mdMXtS8XsZZd5hqUlbth2R35kq5LSG0lqd2NSOBmZQRYS692odoQ1xILqDfp3uipbrHLpqm3HPPacfj4legvfVF0xmog/s400/IMG_4520.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hollow on the inside, like a chimney is supposed to be.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
I got 2 of them, for the two of us; one cinnamon, and one chocolate. The chocolate one was so-so, but the cinnamon... Slightly crispy on the outside from all the cinnamon and the caramelized sugar, melt-in-the-mouth soft on the inside. And the cinnamon, oh my! There was so much of it that it made my mouth sting a bit -- not that I complain, I love cinnamon, and they were certainly not saving up on it. Yum!<br />
<br />
You don't exactly see that on the pictures, but one chimney cake is big enough for two people to eat, unless you're really, really hungry. Or like the taste extremely.<br />
<br />
Have I mentioned that chimney cake probably wasn't such a good idea if you were trying to lose some weight?<br />
<br />
For a brief moment, the writers mind wondered about putting a chimney cake in a story, about a character eating it, or something.<br />
<br />
Then I got back to just enjoying the taste. That's how good it is. Or overwhelming?<br />
<br />
So, if you ever get anywhere near a place where they sell chimney cakes, do try them. You won't regret it.</div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-3694515730147307392012-02-27T14:31:00.000+01:002012-02-27T14:31:41.111+01:00Doing Laundry, Getting Character Ideas, and Other Monday Ramblings<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i282.photobucket.com/albums/kk255/dabbad/CoffeeCat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="246" src="http://i282.photobucket.com/albums/kk255/dabbad/CoffeeCat.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Need... More... Coffee...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
SO fixed the washing machine last night (it broke last Monday), so I managed to do the laundry this morning. The only reason I mention this is because, while the machine was doing its thing, my mind was doing the writer's thing, thinking of a way to insert doing laundry and the washing machine in a story or with a character. The character would probably be a female, but, of course, there's a bunch of questions: when does she do the laundry? Early in the morning, to get it done as soon as possible? Late at night, when the power is cheaper? In the afternoon or in the evening, after the job is done (what job, and at what time of the day is it done?). Does she wait until there's enough to fill the machine, or there's a reason to do the laundry before that? What detergent does she use? What's the smell of it, is it something she prefers, or whatever is the cheapest in the supermarket? And so on.<br />
<br />
I don't know the answers to these questions, but just thinking about them told me it's possible to learn interesting stuff about the character from the way she does the laundry.<br />
<br />
By the way, that's a writer's mind for you, sometimes. Or more often than that. Can't do a routine, mundane thing without thinking about writing.<br />
<br />
Speaking of writing, a great way to improve your writing can be a writers workshop. Unfortunately, they can also make your writing much worse than it would otherwise be. I've encountered both kinds of writers workshops, and <a href="http://blog.bookviewcafe.com/2012/02/26/writing-groups-and-writers-a-match-made-in-heaven-or-hell/" target="_blank">this excellent text</a> reminded me of them (you can also find links to some online -- and free! -- writers workshops there).<br />
<br />
Since it's Monday, I can't help but think of coffee and the other ways to wake up (I think I still have too much blood in my caffeine). And when it comes to coffee, you have to drink it from something, right? This <a href="http://geniusbeauty.com/gift-ideas/24-ingenious-ideas-coffee-mugs/" target="_blank">wonderful page</a> has some hilarious coffee mugs -- gotta love 'em!<br />
<br />
Okay, enough with the ramblings, back to work! Oh, and feel free to share your Monday (Tuesday, Friday, whatever) ramblings! </div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-18329174503015776282012-02-20T19:06:00.000+01:002012-02-20T19:06:32.426+01:00It's Monday, Relax!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Monday can seem busy after a weekend, and therefore stressful. So, here are two songs which I truly enjoy -- the music is relaxing and the videos are nice to watch.<br />
<br />
<br />
</div><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/B7zJ0yVSSvE" width="420"></iframe><br />
<br />
</div><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/6SvxaNQ6d7M" width="420"></iframe></div><br />
And here's one that makes me laugh (if there are children reading this: kids, drugs are bad, don't do them!).<br />
<br />
<br />
</div><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="236" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Ls4qXjZtZXI" width="420"></iframe></div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-90793663547327794142012-02-13T13:22:00.000+01:002012-02-13T13:22:59.757+01:00Winter Wonderland -- with Pics!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">The snow has been falling for a few days now; needless to say, it tends to make things difficult, especially if you actually have to go somewhere (say, to work, or to pay bills, or to purchase groceries....).<div><br />
</div><div>If you have a car, it might look like this:</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRV1YXcg4XO4rSIihDJbfHlkmPAfqAkimPbIvM2-J71JmaoXwIq5bTl5lkl-tMe_VHbDpmVmhM8imTsjItUbMIJjzWCBGjK6jInCXuhZCIHOpPqIJRlcl-3wuKClj-7F6utQq49A/s1600/IMG_4513.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRV1YXcg4XO4rSIihDJbfHlkmPAfqAkimPbIvM2-J71JmaoXwIq5bTl5lkl-tMe_VHbDpmVmhM8imTsjItUbMIJjzWCBGjK6jInCXuhZCIHOpPqIJRlcl-3wuKClj-7F6utQq49A/s400/IMG_4513.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's a car. Really!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div>Or like this:</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_35DXTyRp5cidRyFzA7rzVgxkI9QDqVI0aonVQJwLEMwkTItaoKBpcxU3qfb1EU1_u_LvxokPCow7lX4cR_nYdofsY_KhGFvxKacaZzelJUukPU99F_V31kLkdyMyvrbTwCByxQ/s1600/IMG_4505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_35DXTyRp5cidRyFzA7rzVgxkI9QDqVI0aonVQJwLEMwkTItaoKBpcxU3qfb1EU1_u_LvxokPCow7lX4cR_nYdofsY_KhGFvxKacaZzelJUukPU99F_V31kLkdyMyvrbTwCByxQ/s400/IMG_4505.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can't just get in and drive.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div>If there's sun, you might see something like this:</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcCdzV00KmGs0V7SXlrxpNgJPKMeolxFehrfRXn0DzJEJ_xAXYSJ80vrDxkVfFcznmcDfb7K5tXEplBrvW6ZonZuqftCr1we2QBlf6pskThVm2AIy54KoITygmVUsIHq7XGpoepQ/s1600/IMG_4504.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcCdzV00KmGs0V7SXlrxpNgJPKMeolxFehrfRXn0DzJEJ_xAXYSJ80vrDxkVfFcznmcDfb7K5tXEplBrvW6ZonZuqftCr1we2QBlf6pskThVm2AIy54KoITygmVUsIHq7XGpoepQ/s400/IMG_4504.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'd say they meant to clear this up... Someday.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div>With no sun, it's more like this:</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiW-OzzSM6keQyb7TWXjgsXJRecwkX_JzyIR1M6K4oewCUfCs84sLH9cpGc9LbA44XcxsPKOIPIM9tplWvMHBGDn8ySy_AhMv2oKAK7ecTenlWFP_5QS5uMuDZFb7nhLu7MwKNlA/s1600/IMG_4507.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiW-OzzSM6keQyb7TWXjgsXJRecwkX_JzyIR1M6K4oewCUfCs84sLH9cpGc9LbA44XcxsPKOIPIM9tplWvMHBGDn8ySy_AhMv2oKAK7ecTenlWFP_5QS5uMuDZFb7nhLu7MwKNlA/s400/IMG_4507.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still looks fun to play in!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div>Or this:</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn0Je03qMdoei8wRv7C_KuBHNOQxaYyC_0YpsR0PnR_EQU6Ojp6gdnEixpQrSIDZGbbT_4iQCuzRor8zwGl-viTv9TNuREWiDBF3UHBbTV6w-vY5DIDSJA0osSFZgz7LEwn1qXSg/s1600/IMG_4509.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn0Je03qMdoei8wRv7C_KuBHNOQxaYyC_0YpsR0PnR_EQU6Ojp6gdnEixpQrSIDZGbbT_4iQCuzRor8zwGl-viTv9TNuREWiDBF3UHBbTV6w-vY5DIDSJA0osSFZgz7LEwn1qXSg/s400/IMG_4509.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trees don't seem very happy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div>If you're not driving, the path is on the right:</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJZCA9He4WhATvClv_RuhP4F9MZf3jfFvpr5zjv2Edyr-zC_uXsWAOrTOlDrWOHlm3npaewEuKMoEqf_ZP5-T-S-ZWrQQ3Oj35uJ82olgq5Ix0mQsJjub72HnFPdVzyaat18TQFg/s1600/IMG_4510.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJZCA9He4WhATvClv_RuhP4F9MZf3jfFvpr5zjv2Edyr-zC_uXsWAOrTOlDrWOHlm3npaewEuKMoEqf_ZP5-T-S-ZWrQQ3Oj35uJ82olgq5Ix0mQsJjub72HnFPdVzyaat18TQFg/s400/IMG_4510.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's trickier than it seems.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div>But before that: do you go left, or right?</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvUNNTazWjNqX04XKXZUusq4cUPzR9K1O7asfT-fjrlAVNheUJVTPXkXN0jWr3jZPaldTPZwm89g3UX_HfjvIWsr38NHjg2EI7lS7NRCi26lztAkH5LSBaGmjxZBGTMWqXJPg3nA/s1600/IMG_4506.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvUNNTazWjNqX04XKXZUusq4cUPzR9K1O7asfT-fjrlAVNheUJVTPXkXN0jWr3jZPaldTPZwm89g3UX_HfjvIWsr38NHjg2EI7lS7NRCi26lztAkH5LSBaGmjxZBGTMWqXJPg3nA/s400/IMG_4506.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Choose your path.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div>After that, there's this:</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW004s1xd2oNstrFmu-RSPodNKE6hMZaTWUQbA8dK077UmJMsNiNbCIPndDLaRTH-tVVUqGTnjmNsklcWQWm6YlwtQGh1KgXa2jcJ28ZVXDxeqndy-Ab3qDzZuYbjR3UAoDGOKzA/s1600/IMG_4517.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW004s1xd2oNstrFmu-RSPodNKE6hMZaTWUQbA8dK077UmJMsNiNbCIPndDLaRTH-tVVUqGTnjmNsklcWQWm6YlwtQGh1KgXa2jcJ28ZVXDxeqndy-Ab3qDzZuYbjR3UAoDGOKzA/s400/IMG_4517.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Uneven and tricky -- perfect for straining your ankle.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div>Fortunately, there are bars on the side. In situations like walking this, they're very useful.</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiblVL2R9litQAlUJ_IP_6RIQ3fc6Oi6U_cWiBuNuWYVVbijhBeK8duuo5IWw1sS8JiC-o-lnxfCh5lQIzDMw1y_L6rV8ItFCM1HDgRjBh710TIzuJnTLxoJJIj4fT10-F5n8sZg/s1600/IMG_4518.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiblVL2R9litQAlUJ_IP_6RIQ3fc6Oi6U_cWiBuNuWYVVbijhBeK8duuo5IWw1sS8JiC-o-lnxfCh5lQIzDMw1y_L6rV8ItFCM1HDgRjBh710TIzuJnTLxoJJIj4fT10-F5n8sZg/s400/IMG_4518.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just grab 'em.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div>Not everyone is unhappy with the snow. Some people really love it, if they don't have to go far. Some kids and plenty of dogs are quite happy to play in the snow (because of the snow and the low temperatures situation, schools won't be working this entire week). Cats don't seem to mind the snow, either -- the one on the picture below is as friendly and soft-furred as usual:</div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV9hr5NQV8gQQnxK1RjG-BksqAyUeo7OfomUxL07760kJV_-MGT5Vyu6YI8guKjcjcYQr4IzR9izRbexnDiVXGVvgHVUU-bo_LY7OLyCo3ffN5pIdoo1sWGTmuL53by99cbiHY9g/s1600/IMG_4516.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV9hr5NQV8gQQnxK1RjG-BksqAyUeo7OfomUxL07760kJV_-MGT5Vyu6YI8guKjcjcYQr4IzR9izRbexnDiVXGVvgHVUU-bo_LY7OLyCo3ffN5pIdoo1sWGTmuL53by99cbiHY9g/s400/IMG_4516.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pet me or I'll bite!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div>How about you? Do you have problems with the winter and the snow?</div></div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-919485219572307702012-01-30T18:54:00.000+01:002012-01-30T18:54:34.578+01:00Translating Untcigahunk by Rick Hautala<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBkyVGHE_b3yriOmPDaiI16gkmyqdYhIrkk1aeTsnuB6tQJu13cV5eFQm1EGiNpvuGc8eOKEIVlt9tbr7TD8dW8oh4xiIdB7_NEIHZCYOG2swq0SYuRPlBPbQ7_zprpNYmNEN5A/s400/untcigahunk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBkyVGHE_b3yriOmPDaiI16gkmyqdYhIrkk1aeTsnuB6tQJu13cV5eFQm1EGiNpvuGc8eOKEIVlt9tbr7TD8dW8oh4xiIdB7_NEIHZCYOG2swq0SYuRPlBPbQ7_zprpNYmNEN5A/s400/untcigahunk.jpg" width="281" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Translating Untcigahunk and enjoying it!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
I've recently read, and am currently translating, <i>Untcigahunk: The Complete Little Brothers</i> by <a href="http://www.rickhautala.com/" target="_blank">Rick Hautala</a>. The book consists of the horror novel <i>Little Brothers</i> and of several stories set in the same world -- which would be our own, except that the creatures from the American Indian mythology, such as the "little brothers", truly exist there. And are quite nasty and hungry.<br />
<br />
Here's the description of the novel you can usually find on the Internet:<br />
It has been five years since Kip Howard saw his mother killed horribly by a blur of ""little brown things"." Five years of nightmares and a terror of dark places. Five years of struggling to overcome what must have been just his imagination...But the 'untcigahumk', the Indian word for ""little brothers"," are no one's imagination. hideous forest creatures who feed every five years on human flesh, the little brothers are about to emerge from underground once again.Only this time, there will be no escape for the young boy who witnessed their last feast.<br />
<br />
And here's what I think of the book, as a reader: I enjoyed it.<br />
<br />
If I look at it as a horror novel, it works quite well, with the nasty little monsters trying to eat the protagonist and a few other people. It has a bunch of the usual horror elements, nasty monsters, teenagers who have sex and get killed after it, the kid who saw something but nobody believes him, the town drunk who can be so much more... What adds to the value of the novel is that it would've worked just fine even without the monsters. If the mother from the beginning of the description died by some more common accident while her seven-year-old son watched, if there were no hungry little creatures, the novel would have still worked as a compelling family drama and a coming-of-age story. The two boys who lost their mother, the man who lost his beloved wife and is trying to keep the family going, the older son who is becoming increasingly like the town teen bully while the younger one is seeing a psychotherapist on regular basis... The younger boy meets an unlikely friend who helps him overcome his troubles... It would be quite a compelling story even without the "little brothers" wishing to eat a bunch of people and perhaps some cattle, too. Although, it <i>is</i> more fun with the little buggers.<br />
<br />
After the novel, you get to enjoy three "mythological" stories, about the creation of the untcigahunk, and then some other stories about human encounters with the "little brothers", with the usual entertainment of the unreasonable, stubborn trouble-makers or the folks who stand and watch instead of running for their lives getting eaten by the monsters.<br />
<br />
Now, I would've preferred a shorter novel, but that's just me; I've seen people say they enjoyed the length, because that way they got to know the characters better, and they liked their company. What annoyed me a little bit was Kip occasionally turning from a likable boy whose fears and trauma we understood to a sulking little brat. However, it didn't really spoil the book, it's just a detail which could have been better.<br />
<br />
What can I say, it was fun reading this book, and it's quite fun translating it.</div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-40753340179888590922012-01-18T18:56:00.000+01:002012-01-18T18:56:30.632+01:00An Excerpt From a Future WiP<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguYLtby7bdST0YsStWM-KkNUBZcG1OMKhQNYM03eAvjx1wTUJJCmPxCfIu3wnuJsWqUa489UcwEkwlI6h8Afl6J4zS2gqgCnxTwTZNowsUFFVemBhmJLop4pohpHwxVvY0MPbT/s1600/mice_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguYLtby7bdST0YsStWM-KkNUBZcG1OMKhQNYM03eAvjx1wTUJJCmPxCfIu3wnuJsWqUa489UcwEkwlI6h8Afl6J4zS2gqgCnxTwTZNowsUFFVemBhmJLop4pohpHwxVvY0MPbT/s400/mice_1.jpg" width="374" /></a></div><br />
<br />
I can't exactly call it a WiP, because it would indicate the book in progress, and I haven't started writing it yet. But this humorous piece can give you some taste of what my non-fiction book about cats is going to be like (although, not everything is going to be as funny). It appeared <a href="http://www.epinions.com/content_2904531076" target="_blank">here</a> first, and people seemed to enjoy the silly but true story of a cat refusing to catch a mouse. I might re-write it for the book, especially the end part, but all the fun stuff will stay. So, without further ado, here it is.<br />
<br />
Oh, and you also get a chance to see what my writing looked like 9 years ago. Not too bad, I hope.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Catching a Mouse</div><br />
Once upon a time, Kes was a big, strong cat who hunted everything that moved. He was able to catch a fly while it was flying; several times, we have found remains of a big, fat pigeon which served as his snack. <i>People in Belgrade tend to feed pigeons so much that they become too fat to fly, or at least too fat to fly away in time. A heaven for cats! </i><br />
However, with years Kes became lazy. He could move fast when he wanted to, but he preferred to sleep and be fed and petted. And of course, my mom and I loved to feed him and pet him. Still, I believe my mom thought he should catch a mouse if an opportunity arises; I also believe Kes didn't share her opinion.<br />
One morning, when I came back home (my boyfriend and I were celebrating our fourth anniversary), mom was panicking. She told me a mouse appeared in our apartment last night, and she had barely slept because she was afraid it would climb her bed and bite her. I gave her a puzzled look.<br />
"Mom, mice don't climb beds. And why would it bite you?" I said.<br />
"I'm not afraid of mice," she said. "But if it bit me, I could get some disease. Kes didn't even notice it; I believe it's somewhere in your room," she added.<br />
I shrugged. What's so scary about a cute furry little thing, anyway?<br />
Kes was sleeping on my bed, as usual. I petted him and turned my computer on, to read some book I've downloaded.<br />
Later, I went to the bathroom. Mom summoned me from it, clearly in panic.<br />
"I've seen it again! It IS in your room! I put Kes so he could see it, and he ran and hid under your bed!"<br />
I laughed. I couldn't help it. Just imagining Kes -- the biggest cat I've ever seen (black with little white fur on his lower belly, as if he was wearing panties, if you want a more clear image) running away from a tiny little mouse -- made me laugh. Of course, I knew he wasn't running away from the mouse. He was running away from my mom, because he felt like sleeping and didn't want to be bothered. At the age of twelve, he was a senior kitty citizen and was rarely in the mood to hunt.<br />
I tried to explain to mom that such a tiny thing as a mouse couldn't possibly be a threat. Besides, if it spent entire night in my room, it was probably half-dead with hunger (I don't keep food on my floor) and fear. Mom reminded me that hungry mice chew on cables. Ouch. I also remembered that if it hid behind some big furniture piece and died of hunger, it would be extremely difficult to find and get rid of. Ouch again.<br />
And Kes still refused to get out from under my bed. He decided to take a nap there. A very long nap, if necessary. Nice kitty.<br />
Eventually, I had to catch the mouse myself (well, people do compare me to a cat, sometimes :) ). It wasn't difficult, really. It was in the middle of my room, confused, and all I had to do was to throw an old T-shirt on it. It was so scared it didn't even wriggle in my hands. I took it out of the house and set it free. It disappeared in the bushes. Cute furry little thing. I hoped it would survive.<br />
My boyfriend's comment to this was: "I know you grew up with cats. It's all right to catch a mouse, we all do it sometimes. Just don't eat it."<br />
Kes? Once it was all over, he went to the kitchen to get a snack. Then he got back to my bed and fell asleep. He seemed satisfied.<br />
<i>Several months ago, Kes disappeared. Sometimes he would disappear for a week, or even more, especially in February (or whenever there was female kitty company to please). But he had never disappeared for months, and knowing he was more than thirteen years old, there isn't much hope he's still somewhere, lost but alive. :( The only thing that comforts me is that he was a happy cat. He had a good life, and is probably chasing females somewhere in kitty heaven.</i></div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-66311575890397019562012-01-16T17:37:00.000+01:002012-01-16T17:37:43.884+01:00"I Write For Love, Not For Money!"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://consciouscat.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/iStock_000015165914XSmall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://consciouscat.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/iStock_000015165914XSmall.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
<br />
The title sentence is one I hear from time to time, and seriously dislike it.<br />
<br />
For one thing, it implies that it's impossible to love writing and still want to get paid for your work.<br />
<br />
For the other, it often sounds as if those saying it see themselves as better than those who write for a living.<br />
<br />
And frankly, to me it sounds like: "My writing is not good enough that anyone would want to pay me for it, so I'm going to put down those who manage to sell their work." Not to mention that I often hear it either from people who are financially supported by their parents (regardless of their age), or from those who do something else for a living, like to write, but for various reasons don't give their writing serious effort and don't dare to attempt to make it more than a hobby.<br />
<br />
As for me, I love writing. I couldn't imagine my life without it. And the main reason I want to get paid for writing is so that I can write full-time, so that I don't have to do something else for a living and write only when time/energy/circumstances permit.<br />
<br />
And besides, is there anything better than doing what you love most and being paid to do it?</div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-80060964881656485272012-01-10T19:32:00.000+01:002012-01-10T19:32:00.307+01:00Put It Away, Will Ya?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.workwithdaria.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/twitter-bird.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://www.workwithdaria.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/twitter-bird.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Remove those darn animations if you want me to read it!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
I've been looking through some blogs, and it's probably just my bad luck, but several blogs in a row had one of the most additions ever.<br />
<br />
Animations.<br />
<br />
I'm not talking about some discreet snow animation, or something else equally discreet and non-disruptive. I'm talking about very visible animations, such as big snowflakes falling over posts and making them difficult to read, or about those annoying Tweety wittwe biwds. You know, the Twitter bird which is supposed to make you follow the blog owner through Twitter. On some blogs, the darn blue bird was flying over posts, making them difficult to read. On some others, it was flying on the side, still annoying and distracting.<br />
<br />
If I come to a blog to look at cute animations, then I expect some cute animations. But if I come to a blog to read it, and the blog owner made it difficult to read with obtrusive animations, well, guess what, I won't be straining my eyes to read it, nor will I be following.<br />
<br />
So, if, by some chance, you want me to read your blog, do me some courtesy of making it possible for me to read without a bunch of distractions.<br />
<br />
Thank you.<br />
<br />
Rant over.</div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-6268215634231947862012-01-07T13:32:00.000+01:002012-01-07T13:32:30.071+01:00The Things I've Learned from CastleVille<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://mikewilliamson.files.wordpress.com/2010/04/computer-cat.jpg?w=480" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://mikewilliamson.files.wordpress.com/2010/04/computer-cat.jpg?w=480" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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For those of you who don't who've never heard of CastleVille, it's a game by Zynga, played on Facebook (or at least I play it on Facebook, on the account made solely for playing games, not the one you can see on my blog). It is a cute and a fun game, great for wasting time, with all the ups and downs of the Zynga games -- but that's not what I'm talking about now.<br />
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Computer games, including those on Facebook, which real gamers would never even acknowledge as real games, can occasionally teach you something. Such as, you get extra points if you hit pedestrians with the car you've stolen (that would be GTA). Or some English words, for non-native speakers. Joking aside, some games are actually designed to teach children some stuff, however, CastleVille, as cute as it is, is not one of them.<br />
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Without further ado, here are things I've learned from CastleVille, and they're about animals such as pigs, cows, chicken and so on -- it's useful to know about them, isn't it?<br />
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Cows start out as baby cows. You feed them and they grow first into youths, and then into adult cows. They don't die if you don't feed them, they just don't grow in that case. Once they're adults, they produce bottles of milk and cow hides. They keep producing bottles of milk and cow hides as long as you feed them. A cow is in no way harmed when you get cow hide.<br />
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All animals start from babies, grow into youths when fed, and then into adults. Chicken start as baby chicken, and eventually grow into adult chicken. Adult chicken produce eggs and chicken meat. They keep producing both; chickens are in no way harmed when you get chicken meat, and keep producing more.<br />
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Sheep produce wool when adults. Getting wool doesn't harm sheep in any way. That's for a bit of sanity there.<br />
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Adult pigs produce meat. Getting meat... You already know. Adult minks produce mink oil. They don't mind it when you take mink oil, and are not harmed by it.<br />
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Geese and peacocks produce down-feathers (geese) and red and blue feathers (peacocks). Seeing how they produce very small amounts of those, it is plausible that the feathers simply fell off without harming the animals. So, another bit of sanity here.<br />
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No animals were harmed for the purpose of writing this post.<br />
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Oh, and I have nothing against Zynga or CastleVille, either. This was for fun only.</div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26945675.post-48683528336302351172012-01-06T14:43:00.000+01:002012-01-06T14:43:50.162+01:00The Versatile Blogger Award<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8cPALTgI7nAo3YkUH91kg2usZNI7A8USs0TVy_RFIr0qRX4clJxTXU-KuXo8cPXu_NLPmlvfYa_LzPd-bhv_9c4WT9J9MplZ4cH2AJ7YNldP4TkB9QTQmUeVSuyUBWPTl2E2v/s1600/versatilebloggeraward-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8cPALTgI7nAo3YkUH91kg2usZNI7A8USs0TVy_RFIr0qRX4clJxTXU-KuXo8cPXu_NLPmlvfYa_LzPd-bhv_9c4WT9J9MplZ4cH2AJ7YNldP4TkB9QTQmUeVSuyUBWPTl2E2v/s400/versatilebloggeraward-1.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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I got an award for my blog, yay! <a href="http://karenwojcikberner.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Karen</a> gave it to me, thanks! Now I'm supposed to mention the one who gave me the award (done), say seven things you probably didn't know about me, and award five other bloggers.<br />
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1. I think that having fancy gadgets you don't truly need is silly, not to mention a waste, and yet, there are some I wouldn't mind having, like iPad, laptop or an iPhone, even though I'm perfectly aware they're way too expensive for what they do.<br />
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2. I was quite introvert in high school (I still am), didn't have any real friends there, and believed I was too boring for anyone to gossip about me. Later I found out that there were some rumors about me anyway, such as, that I was a witch, that I had an evil eye and it was a bad idea to mess with me, and that I burned down a house to the ground during summer holidays.<br />
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3. When I was a kid, my favorite color for a while was yellow, after I saw a yellow seat in a streetcar and loved that particular bright color.<br />
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4. One of the first books I've read, and that was before I started going to the elementary school, was a book about children diseases, a sort of how-to book for parents. I loved that book and re-read it several times.<br />
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5. I think of spiders as useful house animals, as long as they stay away from me.<br />
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6. While I do enjoy music, I can't listen to music while I write. It's too distracting. I prefer silence.<br />
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7. Come to think of it, what I enjoy listening to the most is silence.<br />
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That would be it. The five bloggers I'm awarding, because they more than deserve it:<br />
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1. <a href="http://gypsyroxylee.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">One Sister's Rant</a><br />
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2. <a href="http://writinginflow.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Beverly Diehl's Writing in Flow</a><br />
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3. <a href="http://teamoyeniyi.com/" target="_blank">Love versus Goliath</a><br />
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4. <a href="http://lessonsfromthemonkimarried.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Lessons from the Monk I Married</a><br />
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5. <a href="http://anne-k-albert.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Anne K. Albert</a></div>angel011http://www.blogger.com/profile/02603101632272208797noreply@blogger.com5