what's happening to me
Aside from being first in line at the Thanksgiving buffet (you can bet your bottom dollar I was), the life I've been leading lately is hardly recognizable. But first, let's talk about said buffet. The best thing about the evening? Knowing that I've gotten the worst Thanksgiving of my life out of the way--it was that good. Let's start with the food, and I'll start with the most forgiveable omissions. No cranberries. Not my favorite anyway, but it's a staple, I'm sure it was missed by many. Bad turkey, limited number of helpings. It's a good thing I was first, because I have a feeling somebody went without--which probably would have been a wise decision anyway. No green bean casserole--this one hits me especially hard, but I know it isn't the most crowd-pleasing dish. No corn. In fact, the veggie selection was awful, consisting of zucchini and zucchini. Now the hard hitters. No mashed potatoes. No stuffing. No pumpkin pie. It's been a week, and the scars still burn.
That's ok, I'll just watch another professional Russian men's volleyball game to make myself feel better. Did I mention our TV isn't working? We only get satellite, which means I've been watching a lot of Russian indoor roller hockey and Italian water polo lately.
Really, I had developed a nice groove with the afternoon and late night movies, squeezing in "The Wraith" and a bit of "Kidnapped In Paradise" before the signal died. If this had happened last year, I probably would have had nowhere to turn. But I've found a new hobby here, and it scares me a little: Science fiction books. When I told Kristie I thought I had found "my kind of books," she was excited. (I've been searching for "my kind of book" for years). When I told her it was SciFi, she nearly left me on the spot. "Don't become one of those people," she urged me. She'll learn to love me again. Don't get your undies in a bunch, I'll never turn into a Trekkie or someone whose wardrobe is made up entirely of graphic t-shirts saying things such as "assimilate this," "my other car is a Japanese robot" or "I am the hive queen of the hegemon." And my hair isn't nearly greasy enough anyway.
But I have been reading quite a bit, which is saying something for me. True, I still spend about 2-6 hours a day reading up on my essential websites, but I've also found time to read about a book a week or more. Very peculiar. I'm working my way through Orson Scott Card's "Ender Series." I'm hoping to tackle the Chronicles of Narnia before the movies comes out this weekend. By the way, if you're in London and you have a desire to relieve your favorite books from your elementary/middle school days, you'll have a hard time finding "The Giver" or "When the Tripods Came" anywhere. So pack 'em.
My internship has taken a slightly more interesting turn as well. As a memory refresher, I've been helping my boss research for her biography of Grace Kelly. Until the past few weeks, I had been locating books and making copies, doing obscure internet research and learning how to make a proper cup of English Tea. But lately, I've been doing things I never even knew were done by anyone, let alone me. Here's a brief summary:
I now know that the archives of the Palm Beach Daily News only go back until 1988, so if you're looking for any info older than that, you'll have to find it on microfilm at one of two local libraries.
I know that the dream mansion of the late Enrico Di Portafino, located in Acapulco, recently went on sale for $29 million.
I know that since 1994, 74 members of "The Order of the Solar Temple" have 'transitioned,' by committing suicide or being killed by fellow members after refusing to commit suicide.
I know that Grace Kelly ordered a meal at a restaurant in Swahili, while shooting the film "Mogambo" with Cary Grant and Ava Gardner
I've been in close conversation with Ismael Archbold and Evan Hocker of the University of Texas' New York Newsmedia Mourges, which house defunct New York periodicals.
I know that they couldn't help me find a column by Cholly Knickerbocker.
I know that Cholly Knickerbocker is actually Igor Cassini, brother of Oleg Cassini
I know that the Library of Congress is no help over the phone, or through e-mails.
I have developed a close relationship with Alex, Megan and Brian from the marketing department of the Beverly Hilton Hotel in Beverly Hills.
I know that the people at the Intercontinental Hotel in Budapest, Hungary speak decent English, but none of them know anything about Elizabeth Taylor's 40th birthday party that was held there in 1972.
This is what I do. Seriously, yesterday I talked over the phone with:
The British Film Institute
Josefina's Restaurant in New York
The Library of Congress
The University of Texas New York Newsmedia Morgue
The Beverly Hilton Hotel
The Palm Beach Daily News
Information in Philadelphia and New York
It's a crazy crazy job. I never know what I'll get to do next. But, I get a credit in the book, which I just found out yesterday. I think a room in the Hilton might be a little much to ask.
That's ok, I'll just watch another professional Russian men's volleyball game to make myself feel better. Did I mention our TV isn't working? We only get satellite, which means I've been watching a lot of Russian indoor roller hockey and Italian water polo lately.
Really, I had developed a nice groove with the afternoon and late night movies, squeezing in "The Wraith" and a bit of "Kidnapped In Paradise" before the signal died. If this had happened last year, I probably would have had nowhere to turn. But I've found a new hobby here, and it scares me a little: Science fiction books. When I told Kristie I thought I had found "my kind of books," she was excited. (I've been searching for "my kind of book" for years). When I told her it was SciFi, she nearly left me on the spot. "Don't become one of those people," she urged me. She'll learn to love me again. Don't get your undies in a bunch, I'll never turn into a Trekkie or someone whose wardrobe is made up entirely of graphic t-shirts saying things such as "assimilate this," "my other car is a Japanese robot" or "I am the hive queen of the hegemon." And my hair isn't nearly greasy enough anyway.
But I have been reading quite a bit, which is saying something for me. True, I still spend about 2-6 hours a day reading up on my essential websites, but I've also found time to read about a book a week or more. Very peculiar. I'm working my way through Orson Scott Card's "Ender Series." I'm hoping to tackle the Chronicles of Narnia before the movies comes out this weekend. By the way, if you're in London and you have a desire to relieve your favorite books from your elementary/middle school days, you'll have a hard time finding "The Giver" or "When the Tripods Came" anywhere. So pack 'em.
My internship has taken a slightly more interesting turn as well. As a memory refresher, I've been helping my boss research for her biography of Grace Kelly. Until the past few weeks, I had been locating books and making copies, doing obscure internet research and learning how to make a proper cup of English Tea. But lately, I've been doing things I never even knew were done by anyone, let alone me. Here's a brief summary:
I now know that the archives of the Palm Beach Daily News only go back until 1988, so if you're looking for any info older than that, you'll have to find it on microfilm at one of two local libraries.
I know that the dream mansion of the late Enrico Di Portafino, located in Acapulco, recently went on sale for $29 million.
I know that since 1994, 74 members of "The Order of the Solar Temple" have 'transitioned,' by committing suicide or being killed by fellow members after refusing to commit suicide.
I know that Grace Kelly ordered a meal at a restaurant in Swahili, while shooting the film "Mogambo" with Cary Grant and Ava Gardner
I've been in close conversation with Ismael Archbold and Evan Hocker of the University of Texas' New York Newsmedia Mourges, which house defunct New York periodicals.
I know that they couldn't help me find a column by Cholly Knickerbocker.
I know that Cholly Knickerbocker is actually Igor Cassini, brother of Oleg Cassini
I know that the Library of Congress is no help over the phone, or through e-mails.
I have developed a close relationship with Alex, Megan and Brian from the marketing department of the Beverly Hilton Hotel in Beverly Hills.
I know that the people at the Intercontinental Hotel in Budapest, Hungary speak decent English, but none of them know anything about Elizabeth Taylor's 40th birthday party that was held there in 1972.
This is what I do. Seriously, yesterday I talked over the phone with:
The British Film Institute
Josefina's Restaurant in New York
The Library of Congress
The University of Texas New York Newsmedia Morgue
The Beverly Hilton Hotel
The Palm Beach Daily News
Information in Philadelphia and New York
It's a crazy crazy job. I never know what I'll get to do next. But, I get a credit in the book, which I just found out yesterday. I think a room in the Hilton might be a little much to ask.
posted by Kristie at 11:06 AM
2 Comments:
Favorite science fiction authors:
Dan Simmons: Hyperion and Fall of Hyperion
Frank Herbert: Dune series
Larry Niven: Ringworld books
anonymous
found your blog randomly with the next blog button. the enders game and chronicles of narnia caught my eye as I was scrolling, and so I read some more. pretty cool blog. feel free to check mine out if you are in need of wasting time.
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