Hey everyone :) Sorry this is a few days late, but I've been a wee bit busy. Bakeries do that around holidays where it's traditional but time-consuming to send loved ones edible gifts.
I hope you all had a happy Valentine's Day. Do you know, I heard someone complaining about how it was a ridiculous holiday. They protested that it only got started because of something called the Valentine's Day Massacre, and the holiday card companies leaped on some random event and turned it into a celebration of lovey-dovey goo-goo money making schemes.
I chuckled not-so-quietly to myself. The misinformation that travels around this watery planet makes for a most amusing evening with nothing better to do than trawl around on the internet.
In fact, there has been more than one 'Saint Valentine' throughout recorded history. The first one popped up a long, long time ago, before the calendar had even reached quadruple digits. None of the originals had anything to do with romance outright, that much is true. But the heart-throb aspect of the holiday was adopted long before Hallmark started making cheap, sappy movies. When Courtly Love was popular (that means professions of deep emotion, hand kisses, noble deeds, and an honor-bound lack of hanky-panky) some king decided to write fanfiction accounts about one of the original Saint Valentine's.
You see, the original story, as best we have it, is that Saint Valentine (the one in question) was captured by a Pagan dude. The Pagan dude thought Saint Valentine was the bomb. So he tried to convert the Saint out of Christianity, in order to save Valentine from being sentenced to death for...well, being a Christian. But Valentine was all, 'No, how about YOU convert to Christianity, yo?'*
So Valentine was sentenced to death. But before he died, he performed a miracle by curing the blindness of his jailer's daughter.
Years later, Ye Olde Kinge of the Courtly Love era decided to make a subtle change. Now, the story reads that in his last moments Saint Valentine sent out a love letter. Often the letter is sent to the jailer's daughter (remember the blind one?).
And so, with a slight twist, history acquired a new love-based holiday. It wasn't until centuries later that a bunch of gangsters committed a small but still technically mass-murder against a bunch of other gangsters in what would come to be known as the Valentine's Day Massacre. The Hallmark cards were once handmade, and the sentiments weren't always so mechanically manufactures, but the idea of spreading love on V-Day is older than anyone's great-great-great-grandparents can remember.
So, again, forgive me for the late update. But I hope you all had a wonderful Valentine's Day anyhow, and continue to do so in the coming years!
Also, as a side-note, I'm now going to try and post AT LEAST once a week. I'll also be starting up a vlog, probably on the same basis. See you then!
*The exchange may not have used these words exactly
About Me
- J Larkin
- J is an unpublished author, represented by Carrie Pestritto of Prospect Agency. J's first novel is a YA fantasy horror, regarding a siren who must choose between the haunting life and humanity. J draws on occasion, reads quite often, and is a founding member of the critique group 'Thoughtical Verbosity.'
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Tantrum Time!
The title is not referring to a tantrum thrown by me. Well, maybe, depending on how you look at it. But here we go!
An interesting tantrum from a customer got me thinking. He was making a big deal about which danish he got, wanting the biggest one. In my professional eye, they were all the same size, but that hardly mattered. When we finally got him squared away, he gave me a mournful pout and said, "You don't really care which one I want, do you?"
My response at the time was to chuckle and say "They pay me to care," which is both partially true and a good way to appease the whiners.
But as days passed, I couldn't get the question out of my head. "You don't really care what I want, do you?"
The truth is: Of course I don't! And if we're really honest with ourselves, it would be creepy if I did!
Can you imagine what sort of backwards world we'd live in if customer service reps had the demeanor they do in the commercials? No family life, no goals, no interests outside of how many fish specials they can hawk out to the twinkling lights of their lives: the customers.
It would be like the marketplace the Stepford Wives shop at. Any personal trauma or loss of limb would be easily programmed away. If the C.C.R. doesn't achieve their goal of measuring out, pricing and packaging the customer's products PERFECTLY, they self destruct. Life is not living if you can't magically pull out exactly what the crotchety dude in loafers wants, whether or not it's been sold out for hours!
Is that really how the average customer wants to shop? Indentured robotics in aprons and uniforms? I seem to recall a time when some stranger taking a deep interest in what you've got going on was cause for a search warrant and arrest. Whatever happened to a simple, "Hello, I would like that one, Thank you, Have a nice day?" There's nothing wrong with responding to other humans with, dare I say it, basic human contact. Even if one of you is being paid to stand behind a counter.
So, no, I really don't care what my customers want. Or how they want it. Or what they're going to do with it. And that is the greatest gift I can give to someone I don't know.
Jenni out.
An interesting tantrum from a customer got me thinking. He was making a big deal about which danish he got, wanting the biggest one. In my professional eye, they were all the same size, but that hardly mattered. When we finally got him squared away, he gave me a mournful pout and said, "You don't really care which one I want, do you?"
My response at the time was to chuckle and say "They pay me to care," which is both partially true and a good way to appease the whiners.
But as days passed, I couldn't get the question out of my head. "You don't really care what I want, do you?"
The truth is: Of course I don't! And if we're really honest with ourselves, it would be creepy if I did!
Can you imagine what sort of backwards world we'd live in if customer service reps had the demeanor they do in the commercials? No family life, no goals, no interests outside of how many fish specials they can hawk out to the twinkling lights of their lives: the customers.
It would be like the marketplace the Stepford Wives shop at. Any personal trauma or loss of limb would be easily programmed away. If the C.C.R. doesn't achieve their goal of measuring out, pricing and packaging the customer's products PERFECTLY, they self destruct. Life is not living if you can't magically pull out exactly what the crotchety dude in loafers wants, whether or not it's been sold out for hours!
Is that really how the average customer wants to shop? Indentured robotics in aprons and uniforms? I seem to recall a time when some stranger taking a deep interest in what you've got going on was cause for a search warrant and arrest. Whatever happened to a simple, "Hello, I would like that one, Thank you, Have a nice day?" There's nothing wrong with responding to other humans with, dare I say it, basic human contact. Even if one of you is being paid to stand behind a counter.
So, no, I really don't care what my customers want. Or how they want it. Or what they're going to do with it. And that is the greatest gift I can give to someone I don't know.
Jenni out.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
A Berry Melated Christmas!
Hello all! I suppose as a responsible blogger I should have got some brief message up on one of my internet hubs and hollered my holiday greetings at you hooligans. Alas and alackaday, that did not happen. I was busy celebrating the holidays.
And yet, here I am, wishing you the very best of end-of-year celebrations! New Year's is coming up soon, and I am delighted to say that I have the weekend off from work. Huzzah! That means I'll actually be around when friend Amber and her lovely children come over, and I can finally give them their Christmas gifts. Yay!
I hope you all had a fabulous Christmas. I know I did. Knowing that a return to school is (hopefully) in my future, I went all out this year with my gift-giving with the unofficial understanding that the pickin's will be rather more slim in 2011. My philosophy on money is rather simple: It's just money. At a certain age, you can and will be making more. Should you squirrel away some for the future? Yes. And increasingly 'yes' as time marches on. But when you're at a certain whimsical age and you have little better to do than travel to exotic places and spoil nieces, nephews and siblings...don't be a Scrooge!
Unless you're in school, in which case the Scrooging will happen for you.
And the time spent with family was a lot of fun. Between work and just plain not living together, I don't see most of my other siblings all that much. This year I even got to see them all at once for a few brief moments; something that generally only occurs at weddings and funerals.
A few days after Christmas, I went out and bought myself something rather exciting: a new Flip camera. I've named it Jeffries. And with our power combined, soon you'll have my mug and melodious voice to accompany the blog. Yeehaw! Be prepared.
Well, until I see (in this case having the unique definition of 'blindly write to') you again!
-Jenni
And yet, here I am, wishing you the very best of end-of-year celebrations! New Year's is coming up soon, and I am delighted to say that I have the weekend off from work. Huzzah! That means I'll actually be around when friend Amber and her lovely children come over, and I can finally give them their Christmas gifts. Yay!
I hope you all had a fabulous Christmas. I know I did. Knowing that a return to school is (hopefully) in my future, I went all out this year with my gift-giving with the unofficial understanding that the pickin's will be rather more slim in 2011. My philosophy on money is rather simple: It's just money. At a certain age, you can and will be making more. Should you squirrel away some for the future? Yes. And increasingly 'yes' as time marches on. But when you're at a certain whimsical age and you have little better to do than travel to exotic places and spoil nieces, nephews and siblings...don't be a Scrooge!
Unless you're in school, in which case the Scrooging will happen for you.
And the time spent with family was a lot of fun. Between work and just plain not living together, I don't see most of my other siblings all that much. This year I even got to see them all at once for a few brief moments; something that generally only occurs at weddings and funerals.
A few days after Christmas, I went out and bought myself something rather exciting: a new Flip camera. I've named it Jeffries. And with our power combined, soon you'll have my mug and melodious voice to accompany the blog. Yeehaw! Be prepared.
Well, until I see (in this case having the unique definition of 'blindly write to') you again!
-Jenni
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Level 23
Hello friends/people I've never met but might get along with!
Today is a momentous day in my life. It is the first and last time I shall ever turn 23. Unless, of course, I turn into one of those anal old ladies who can't look my own wrinkly self in the face and I decide to lie about my age. I mean, 9.5 times out of 9 this year, I've given someone a random number when they ask how old I'll be. Once or twice I've happily explained how my grandchildren will be coming to the jubilee. So I guess you just never can tell.
Anywho, I am now 23 years old! Huzzah! I think I'll make puppy-eyes and whine at Big Sis until she makes me birthday cupcakes or something.
With each passing year, however, I am made to think of my writing goals. The big one is to have Ze Book published before my 25th birthday. Or at least to have Ze Book being published by my 25th year. That means I've got exactly two years left. I figure if I keep up a good pace, I can have Ze Book written and ready for the presses halfway into 2011. From there, however, it's a mad dash trying to get someone to read and become obsessed with it to the point that they make the investment of publication.
It's a long path ahead of me, but I'm thrilled. I love what I do with the words and the pages and the stories and all that stuff. It's the most frustrating and invigorating thing I've ever done. Unless we're counting that thing with the Rubiks Cube and the crocodiles. But that's a whole different birthday story.
Well, I hope you all have a lovely day, because I sure as heck will :)
Cheers!
-Jenni
Today is a momentous day in my life. It is the first and last time I shall ever turn 23. Unless, of course, I turn into one of those anal old ladies who can't look my own wrinkly self in the face and I decide to lie about my age. I mean, 9.5 times out of 9 this year, I've given someone a random number when they ask how old I'll be. Once or twice I've happily explained how my grandchildren will be coming to the jubilee. So I guess you just never can tell.
Anywho, I am now 23 years old! Huzzah! I think I'll make puppy-eyes and whine at Big Sis until she makes me birthday cupcakes or something.
With each passing year, however, I am made to think of my writing goals. The big one is to have Ze Book published before my 25th birthday. Or at least to have Ze Book being published by my 25th year. That means I've got exactly two years left. I figure if I keep up a good pace, I can have Ze Book written and ready for the presses halfway into 2011. From there, however, it's a mad dash trying to get someone to read and become obsessed with it to the point that they make the investment of publication.
It's a long path ahead of me, but I'm thrilled. I love what I do with the words and the pages and the stories and all that stuff. It's the most frustrating and invigorating thing I've ever done. Unless we're counting that thing with the Rubiks Cube and the crocodiles. But that's a whole different birthday story.
Well, I hope you all have a lovely day, because I sure as heck will :)
Cheers!
-Jenni
Friday, December 3, 2010
Inspired by Raging and Quickly Forgotten Fight
Since moving in with the Hendersons (composed of XX-year old Sandi, XX-year old Dustin, 6 year-old Eliza and 5-year-old Ethan) my horizons have expanded. Nay, blossomed. Belay that ‘nay,’ expanded. I’ve eaten things that have previously disturbed me, made leaps and bounds in my toddler-level writing career, and participated in various heathen rituals that I shan’t go into at this time due to various contracts.
I’ve also learned things about myself as a person which I simply hadn’t cared to know before. How much money am I really willing to spend to allow myself some freedom? (At least enough to cover rent). Why do I really want to graduate from college? (Because I can). Where did I leave my keys? (My nephew hid them in his shoes as a joke). Exactly how much of a nerd am I? (Judging by the fact that I can have lucid conversation with my Broinlaw* about Star Wars and when people will make it to Mars, a pretty big one).
I’m also learning how to DO new things. Like cooking. Sort of. Slowly. Sandi and Dustin are both very good cooks; living with them has resulted in my palatial boundaries broadening and my waistline slowly shrinking (yay!). The fact that I used to consider Fuddruckers to be borderline gourmet apparently bothered them, and in hopes of having a Broinlaw of their own someday, have made the staggering decision to try and teach me their ways. Working full time and trying to get Ze Book finished has made the process slow, but I’ve picked up a few tips already. Like steak being seared, or whatever.
What inspired all of this semi-philosophizing? The other night, Sandi and I had what may well be our second real argument. The fact that it was pretty much forgotten five minutes later says great things about our relationship, but the way it got started and the way it was carried out was very informative about how different we are as people. Belay that; how different we are as…actually, no, ‘people’ works fine.
The argument was about a piece of writing by our friend, Amber. We had completely different views on it, though we agreed it was well written and could have a huge market. Any pretense and mature debate went out the window pretty fast, and the really steamy part of the discussion went something like this:
(the red-head that pops in is probably Dustin)
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“I do, you just don’t like that I disagree with you and-“
“No, you’re just interpreting it wrong!”
“Shut up!”
“You can’t say stuff like that and not expect to be interrupt-“
“YOU’VE BEEN INTERRUPTING ME ALL NIGHT!”
It’s funny looking back at it, and really we were laughing most of the way through anyway. That’s one of the wonderful things about being snarky, even a bitter feud over a friend’s short story is humorous.
But later, it got me thinking about how different Sandi and I are (and how good of a thing it is that we agree on almost everything, considering how ugly it is when we don’t).
You see, Sandi and I both have creative aspirations (okay, okay, SHE has a creative career, whilst I have creative aspirations). But they manifest in very different ways. Sandi is like the ship's captain, military-clean, ornately simple and absolutely sure of her own style. She rules a ship of stiff upper lips and unyielding perfection; it is a beautiful ship and, obviously, very successful.
I, on the other hand, am the lacksadaisical beach bum who watches the ship sail off to uncharted regions. I've got my jungle behind me, and have created my tree fort and monkey lounge area which can be taken apart and wiggled around for other purposes with the same function of a swiss army knife. I know what I want to create, and a big part of that is leaving some elbow-room for others to take from it what they will.
Perhaps that's why I'm into the writing thing, and Sandi's into the fabric designing thing. Or perhaps I've got it all wrong.
Either way, I'm glad for the influence the Henderson Clan has had on me. And I'm glad that I did eventually find my keys.
*Broinlaw: Brother-in-Law, one who is considered an inseperable part of one’s family, rather than the sort one secretly hopes will choke on their wedding toast drink and quickly be replaced.
I’ve also learned things about myself as a person which I simply hadn’t cared to know before. How much money am I really willing to spend to allow myself some freedom? (At least enough to cover rent). Why do I really want to graduate from college? (Because I can). Where did I leave my keys? (My nephew hid them in his shoes as a joke). Exactly how much of a nerd am I? (Judging by the fact that I can have lucid conversation with my Broinlaw* about Star Wars and when people will make it to Mars, a pretty big one).
I’m also learning how to DO new things. Like cooking. Sort of. Slowly. Sandi and Dustin are both very good cooks; living with them has resulted in my palatial boundaries broadening and my waistline slowly shrinking (yay!). The fact that I used to consider Fuddruckers to be borderline gourmet apparently bothered them, and in hopes of having a Broinlaw of their own someday, have made the staggering decision to try and teach me their ways. Working full time and trying to get Ze Book finished has made the process slow, but I’ve picked up a few tips already. Like steak being seared, or whatever.
What inspired all of this semi-philosophizing? The other night, Sandi and I had what may well be our second real argument. The fact that it was pretty much forgotten five minutes later says great things about our relationship, but the way it got started and the way it was carried out was very informative about how different we are as people. Belay that; how different we are as…actually, no, ‘people’ works fine.
The argument was about a piece of writing by our friend, Amber. We had completely different views on it, though we agreed it was well written and could have a huge market. Any pretense and mature debate went out the window pretty fast, and the really steamy part of the discussion went something like this:
(the red-head that pops in is probably Dustin)
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“I do, you just don’t like that I disagree with you and-“
“No, you’re just interpreting it wrong!”
“Shut up!”
“You can’t say stuff like that and not expect to be interrupt-“
“YOU’VE BEEN INTERRUPTING ME ALL NIGHT!”
It’s funny looking back at it, and really we were laughing most of the way through anyway. That’s one of the wonderful things about being snarky, even a bitter feud over a friend’s short story is humorous.
But later, it got me thinking about how different Sandi and I are (and how good of a thing it is that we agree on almost everything, considering how ugly it is when we don’t).
You see, Sandi and I both have creative aspirations (okay, okay, SHE has a creative career, whilst I have creative aspirations). But they manifest in very different ways. Sandi is like the ship's captain, military-clean, ornately simple and absolutely sure of her own style. She rules a ship of stiff upper lips and unyielding perfection; it is a beautiful ship and, obviously, very successful.
I, on the other hand, am the lacksadaisical beach bum who watches the ship sail off to uncharted regions. I've got my jungle behind me, and have created my tree fort and monkey lounge area which can be taken apart and wiggled around for other purposes with the same function of a swiss army knife. I know what I want to create, and a big part of that is leaving some elbow-room for others to take from it what they will.
Perhaps that's why I'm into the writing thing, and Sandi's into the fabric designing thing. Or perhaps I've got it all wrong.
Either way, I'm glad for the influence the Henderson Clan has had on me. And I'm glad that I did eventually find my keys.
*Broinlaw: Brother-in-Law, one who is considered an inseperable part of one’s family, rather than the sort one secretly hopes will choke on their wedding toast drink and quickly be replaced.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Moving!
As those of you who follow my sister over at Portabello Pixie undoubtedly know, there is a great deal of moving-type stuff going on. This is mostly because we are, in fact moving. Into an amazing house which I am incredibly excited for. Said sister is going to be redesigning my room; I am intrigued, excited, and a tad anxious...not because I doubt her taste, of course, but because I am exactly the sort of antsy my-way-is-the-highway person who would go hungry before asking someone else to order for them at the cafe.
I'm sure it will be a delight, however, and knowing her will be ten times more stylish than anything I could come up with. Huzzah!
Supposedly I'm packing up the rest of my junk right now. But being the procrastinator that I am, I....meh, I'll finish that thought later.
Since the last report, the writer's group thing has met once again, and I received some great feedback that I am eager to implement. The writing process is going fairly smoothly for me, which is great since I'd like to become fabulously wealthy and quit my day-job as soon as possibly. The goal is before I turn twenty-five. I'll let you know how that goes in a couple of years, shall I?
In regards to the Phil Innis stuff, I am sad to say I have not had much time at all to prod at that particular pet in the last couple of weeks. It's not forgotten; I'm still thrilled that I was able to include hookers in the fourth episode without making it obvious that they were hookers to anyone who wouldn't know what a hooker was :) Family-friendly hookers! Truly a milestone in my writing career.
In other news, a couple of weeks ago the family brought in a puppy :) She's an adorable fluffy-wuffy English lab named Penelope. I at first voted we name her Calamity (I mean, who would you rather walk your kids to school...Calamity Jane, or Sweet Mary Roseweather?) but Lucky Penny fits her a bit better.
Well, I'll try to get a new more funny-bone assaulting post up soon. In the meantime, I really ought to get back to packing!
I'm sure it will be a delight, however, and knowing her will be ten times more stylish than anything I could come up with. Huzzah!
Supposedly I'm packing up the rest of my junk right now. But being the procrastinator that I am, I....meh, I'll finish that thought later.
Since the last report, the writer's group thing has met once again, and I received some great feedback that I am eager to implement. The writing process is going fairly smoothly for me, which is great since I'd like to become fabulously wealthy and quit my day-job as soon as possibly. The goal is before I turn twenty-five. I'll let you know how that goes in a couple of years, shall I?
In regards to the Phil Innis stuff, I am sad to say I have not had much time at all to prod at that particular pet in the last couple of weeks. It's not forgotten; I'm still thrilled that I was able to include hookers in the fourth episode without making it obvious that they were hookers to anyone who wouldn't know what a hooker was :) Family-friendly hookers! Truly a milestone in my writing career.
In other news, a couple of weeks ago the family brought in a puppy :) She's an adorable fluffy-wuffy English lab named Penelope. I at first voted we name her Calamity (I mean, who would you rather walk your kids to school...Calamity Jane, or Sweet Mary Roseweather?) but Lucky Penny fits her a bit better.
Well, I'll try to get a new more funny-bone assaulting post up soon. In the meantime, I really ought to get back to packing!
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Dionycles, P.I.
Dionycles, P.I., being one of the contenders for official mascot of my new writing group.
On Friday, the first official as-of-yet-unnamed writers group involving myself, big sis, big sis' husband, and family friend met and exchanged our first products to be reviewed. (Members by name: Sandi and Dustin Henderson and Amber Johnson. And me. MEEE.)
Sandi provided her beautiful new Cloche hat that I'm going to steal when she's sleeping, Dustin showed the amazing full-size easel, including a carving of a paintbrush on the back, that he created for Sandi, and Amber and I both whipped out the first bites of our respective novels.
New title of Ze Book, by the way, is Clover Leaf Investigations: Book One: First Time's a Charm. In order to save time and webspace, it shall from hereon out be referred to simply as 'Ze Book.'
I can't say I'm thrilled with what I passed out to the rest of the troupe, but we'll see how it goes. If nothing else I'm eager to get the crap critiqued out of me. It's always a great way to crank the old gear back into motion. And having meetings once a week will be great motivation to keep up my aforementioned goal of writing a lot all of the time.
Excellent (finger tap).
In other news, my god-daughter, River, is gorgeous. And now a strong member of the cast over at Fragmented Poe, the family's website.
Also, previously mentioned big sis totally made me get teary today by plagiarizing me. But in a good way. I love you too, Pixie :)
On Friday, the first official as-of-yet-unnamed writers group involving myself, big sis, big sis' husband, and family friend met and exchanged our first products to be reviewed. (Members by name: Sandi and Dustin Henderson and Amber Johnson. And me. MEEE.)
Sandi provided her beautiful new Cloche hat that I'm going to steal when she's sleeping, Dustin showed the amazing full-size easel, including a carving of a paintbrush on the back, that he created for Sandi, and Amber and I both whipped out the first bites of our respective novels.
New title of Ze Book, by the way, is Clover Leaf Investigations: Book One: First Time's a Charm. In order to save time and webspace, it shall from hereon out be referred to simply as 'Ze Book.'
I can't say I'm thrilled with what I passed out to the rest of the troupe, but we'll see how it goes. If nothing else I'm eager to get the crap critiqued out of me. It's always a great way to crank the old gear back into motion. And having meetings once a week will be great motivation to keep up my aforementioned goal of writing a lot all of the time.
Excellent (finger tap).
In other news, my god-daughter, River, is gorgeous. And now a strong member of the cast over at Fragmented Poe, the family's website.
Also, previously mentioned big sis totally made me get teary today by plagiarizing me. But in a good way. I love you too, Pixie :)
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