Babel barbarisms

Written February 12, 2006

How does, “you can’t walk no line*” turn into “you can’t cross the tightrope”? Spanish translators.

How does Ennis del Mar** go from yelling out “ya!” to his horse, leaving Jack without a word, to shouting out an enthusiastic “Yes!” to him? Spanish translators.

How does “The eternal sunshine of the spotless mind” turn into “Forget about me”?

Yup, you guessed it. Spanish translators.

I swear these people haven’t figured out that Babel Fish is utterly unreliable crap.

* From Walk the Line
** From Brokeback Mountain

We have normality

Written February 14, 2006

To all of you happily engaged in partnerships (sentimental, physical or both) with one or more people of the same or opposite* sex, I have this to say:

Happy Valentines, you lucky bastards.


Now that that’s out of the way, my life to date:

Yesterday I had a pretty good day until I spoke with mom who painted me as someone who a) can’t work a washing machine and b) hasn’t done shit.

I, as previously mentioned, finally did my laundry. I never knew a washing machine could have so many dials and symbols. You can pick the length of the program, the speed, the temperature and a whole lot of other itty bitty details.

Mom’s all, “but it’s so simple! All European washing machines are the same.”
To which I respond: “Last time I actually lived full-time in Europe, I was 9. I hope to hell I wasn’t the one doing laundry then.”

I miss the machines with just three buttons: delicates, normal that one I always used for towels and sheets, permanent press.

I can’t iron my stuff (not that I would) because apparently the iron stains, having burnt the blue plastic cover of the ironing board.


Today I walked and walked (this ain’t not ordinary walking, this is heavy-duty) looking for a decent coffee place.** I ended up at Starbucks. I know. I swore I’d never go there because a) bad coffee b) it’s freakin’ Starbucks…but they had nice plush sofas. So I paid three times more than usual for a coffee and read my French novel. And got hit on by the Starbuck’s boy

Then I wandered over to the French library and geeked out by checking out an encyclopedia that focused on world languages (all 3000 of them). It analysed the main trends in grammar, gave the different alphabets and some words in each, told the history, and it even made a list of reasons each language was hard to learn. (Must copy and show to you all.)

( I learned that, for example: )

This might be TMI but… I’ve got split ends. Granted, that in itself not amazing, but this is leg hair I’m talking about. What. The. Fu’.


The best thing ever, however, is that finally, after almost two months of zip, I’ve started writing again. Wait. That sounds like it’ll be a trend. Best just to say that I wrote a whole scene Sunday night and Monday night I almost figured out the gaping plot hole.

Weeee!!!


* and why is it “opposite” and not just “the other”?
** Even though there’s been an anti-tabacco law since January, there’s a bloody subclause saying that places smaller than x meters squared can opt to be smoking or non. That means that each and every bar (but 0.01%) allows smoking. Exactly how does this law change things again?

Oh, bitchcakes

Written February 15, 2006

No, don’t try squinting at the title to see if it makes sense. It doesn’t. Honest. And I’m using the term wrong anyway. Learn why here

Absolutely fascinating stuff I did today which you just can’t wait to read about:

…

…

Frenchclasslunchboredboredboredomgmakeitstop…

I went to the French Institute because there was a Belgian author (Amelie Nathomb) for Q&A. She’s witty and cute. Made this whole metaphore of how the books were her kids (not new, but wait) and how writing them is like a pregancy, constant, and how she absolutely adores white chocolate. There was a bunch of other mildly interesting and amusing details but I’m tired.

Which is why instead of writing a “Jayne totally fucks up at the whore-house” scene*, I’m going to watch Firefly. Because I can.

This afternoon I wrote all of 158 words of above-mentioned scene. I also organized some character observations I’d made, from the totally random (Jayne’s got a whore shirt), the trivial (Jewish postman’s called Amnon), the important details (they still have the really expensive and famous Lasciter gun), the “heeey…” details (Book’s never said any sort of sermon, on-screen at least).


Btw, any of you watched Serenity? If so, comments?

Bro’s bringing me a copy--else he’s not stepping foot in my apartment--but I know basically all the major plot secrets, so feel free to allude to them.



*I can’t believe I fixed a minor plot-hole on the bus. Just wham-bang-here-you-go-ma’am. Good muse.

Keeping fit

Written February 16, 2006

I’m all for exercise in the general sense, as long as I don’t get too much of it. But I’m sick and tired of exercises in futility.


…and if eyes are the windows to the soul, I’m getting’ me some curtains.


It has been said that There is no better way to relieve stress than to stab someone repeatedly in the chest.* If the opportunity does not present itself, might I suggest stabbing the lemon cake you’ve just baked with a toothpick? Granted, not quite the same, but there’s no limit to the number of times you can poke the bastard.

Plus, the recipe told me to do it.


Now, I don’t know what Dante’s said about the levels and types of hell, but here’re two:
Laurell K. Hamilton, an American writer born in 1963, says in Bloody Bones:

There had to be a circle of Hell where you were eternally fourteen, eternally in junior high. One of the lower circles.

Having defined a Lower Circle, let me give the stage to Firefly’s very own Shepard Book, who says:

If you take sexual advantage of that girl, you're going to burn in a very special level of Hell, a level they reserve for child molesters and people who talk at the theater.

*smirk*


One pet peeve that I have to share: why, oh good lord why, when the bus is full, do people insist on sitting in the aisle seat, leaving a beautiful (and empty) seat by the window out of reach for everyone else. It’s just so rude to make people ask you to move, or, worse yet, to crawl over you, just to set their tushes down.


*Amy Lau, friend of Rogue over at her quote gallery.

...If I can find the damn page again, I´ll share. *keeps looking*

Tidbit quote I found:

What? Someone with an unusual interest? And on the INTERNET, of all places... who would have believed it?

Mmmm

Written February 17, 2006

Money may not be able to buy happiness, but it can buy chocolate.

Fools might point out that chocolate can’t buy happiness either, but they’d be missing an important point:

It’s chocolate

O, zhe zhen shi ge kuaile de jinzhan.*

Written February 17, 2006

It’s 11 pm. I think I started writing at about 8 pm.

Fruits of my labour?

A measly 795 words and one finished scene.

*whines*

It’s not even the scene I’d been planning on writing. I was going to write the “Jayne leaves the bar for the whore-house”, as opposed to the “totally fucks up at the whore-house”, the one I’ve been planning for. Instead what do I write?

“Jayne and co. go to the bar.”

They haven’t even gotten to the bar.

Hell, to be honest, it’s “Jayne and co. gather before leaving to go to the bar”.

In real time, this scene would take all of five minutes. In author-time, it’s taken three hours. *curses*


Why do I have to keep on writing backwards?!

Seriously. Every time I set out to write a story, or conjure up some sort of story-esque idea, I find myself writing a middle scene. Then I keep going backwards, explaining how we got to that scene.

This really breaks the illusion of achievement. I already know all that’s happened but don’t get to write any new stuff.


Any one else have weird methods of writing? They don’t even need to actually work.


And because writing Firefly fics means you get to learn random Chinese phrases, allow me to share a favourite:

Gaoyang zhong de guyan.

Meaning “motherless goats of all motherless goats” (or, literally, “orphan goats among young goats).


* Oh, this is a happy development.

Argh!!!

Seriously annoyed that I can´t find Rogue´s Gallery of Quotes anymore.

And sorry for the multiple posts. Lack of internet and all that stuff.

PS: Will totally email tomorrow. Swear.


Ah, LJ, what would I do without you? You´ve tought me how to survive zombies here, here, here, and here, pointing the way to a book*, even.

Random is cool.

*Be sure to scroll down and see what else people bought.