just always talking about changing

so i've been reading harry potter and the order of the phoenix in arabic (result of an impromptu saudi bookstore trip and them not stocking the entire series). i'm only about halfway through it right now, but i thought i should still come here and point out the mistakes/changes in translation that have been slowing down my reading. (disclaimer: i probably wouldn't have even noticed most of these if not for the fact that i've read the series enough time in english to have it practically memorized.)

first of all, in the english series, there is a troll-leg umbrella stand in 12 grimauld place that tonks keeps tripping over. in the arabic series, it's just an umbrella stand. not a big deal except the added detail makes the image in my head change from a house that the banks (a la mary poppins) would live in to a house that dark wizards would live in. maybe it's just me.

when harry gets detention from umbridge, the english mcgonagall offers him a ginger newt. the arabic mcgonagall just offers him cookies. again, not a huge thing, but i loved how much detail went into the harry potter world. she could have just offered him a cookie, but she's a wizard and she keeps a tin of ginger newts on hand instead. along these same lines, butterbeer is translated into juice. (i kind of understand this one, but still.)

aside from the lack of details, some sentences are just translated wrong. for example, "harry's a free man" was translated into "harry's free, man." and "are you talking about lupin?" was translated into "did you talk to lupin?" once again, not major, but still enough to make me pause in my reading to say, "no. that's wrong."

i think my favorite thing about reading the translation are the little footnotes from the translator that come every few pages. when mcgonagall called students to be sorted last name, first name and then they went to sit down as first name, last name; or when a professor was suddenly called by his/her first name; or when someone refers to someone/thing with a nickname; or someones mixes up two words, there are lines and lines from the translator explaining how english people are weird and he swears he didn't make a mistake and he really did mean to write it like that and this is what everything would have been like if they were arab.

anyway, i realize that i'm probably being obnoxious and anal about this whole thing, but there it is.

*Changing - The Airborne Toxic Event

i don't know why i go to extremes, too high or too low there 'aint no in-betweens

i think one of my biggest problems with writing is that, underneath all of my insecurities and doubts and the little voice in my head telling me that i really truly definitely cannot do this, i have this grandiose notion that i am destined for great things, that i am somehow better than the rest of the world. i am flying way too high and sinking way too low, and there's a paper and pen somewhere in the middle waiting patiently for me to just get myself together, sit down, and write. i rarely visit the middle ground.

when i was in sixth grade, i fell in love with se hinton (and i never really fell back out). but somewhere between the time that i read the first sentence of the outsiders and the time that i realized she was sixteen when she wrote it, the idea that i would have written and published a book before i was twenty lodged itself in my head. it wasn't that i wanted to or hoped to or aspired to, it was that it was going to happen. it didn't matter that i gave up on most stories before the halfway point. it didn't matter that i refused to let anyone read my writing. it was going to happen.

then sixteen rolled by, and eighteen, and suddenly i was twenty with absolutely no literary acclaim. none. and i proceeded to wallow in the depths of, "i should be better than this." and you know what? why? why in the world should i be better? why should i get to be a published author without doing much or any work by my early twenties when other people slaved away at their craft for years and years and years before getting anywhere. sometimes my arrogance astounds me.

my life has been littered with experiences like this, and though i'm trying to keep all of myself somewhere in the middle now to see if i really do have it in me, it's proving much easier said than done. i am arrogant and self-loathing and presumptuous and insecure and egotistic and fearful and i want to be a writer dammit.

*I Go To Extremes - Billy Joel

do you still remember how we used to be?

i am wearing gummy bear earrings and my tongue is burned. i am also wishing i had gotten myself a mango pepsi from the kitchen when i was in there getting two hershey kisses for breakfast. but i think soda exacerbates a burnt tongue, so actually i'm glad i didn't. i burned my tongue while cooking yesterday and forgetting that when you put something on the stove it gets hot. sometimes i do things like that, and it makes me wonder how people could possibly think i'm smart enough to get a phd. i'm having a problem with my "o". i think junior is starting to get old and his keyboard is getting a little hard of hearing. this makes me sad because i remember when i first got him the day i finished my last undergrad class, and it seems like just yesterday but also a million years ago. i also remember that the very next day my capstone professor gave me a C. i'd like to say i've gotten over that, but to be honest i'm still a little bitter. i don't think i'll ever fully recover.

last night i ate a caffeinated brownie, and then i fell asleep fifteen minutes later so i don't think caffeine does much for me.

i don't think i ever mentioned on here how upset i was that the spice girls didn't perform in the olympics opening ceremony. i mean, i didn't give it much (read: any) thought beforehand, but while watching the thing and seeing harry potter and mary poppins and a bunch of bands that i didn't really know, i kept waiting for them to come out. and then they didn't. the spice girls were huge in the nineties. i don't understand why they weren't there. my cousin (who we made get us the spice girls movie way back when) had to listen to me whine abut it for a while. i mean, there were other people there too (my husband and cousins' children) but i think he was the only one that truly got it because he was the only one that knew me back when i was a big fan. (i still have some of their songs on my ipod. should i be confessing that?)

i'm trying to decide whether to make peanut butter cookies or tiramisu cheesecake, and the fact that i can sit here in a quiet apartment, listening to the lawn mowers outside (and a few floors down) my window, and have that be my biggest concern makes me feel incredibly grateful.

*Viva Forever - Spice Girls

say what you need to say

i think i mentioned that i've been reading a lot of poetry lately. and prosetry. and short stories. and basically anything that doesn't take more than a few minutes to consume completely. i'm just in one of those moods where the thought of having enough attention to devote to something that could take anywhere from a few hours to a few days to finish is laughable really. but this is not the point. some of what i have been reading are actual books and published stories, but a lot of it has been by virtual unknowns who like to publish their words online.

and i have found a new pet peeve: people who censor bad words in their writing. i'm not talking about people who use other words instead of the bad words, because you can use whatever words you want. i'm talking about the people who, instead of writing ass will write a$$ and instead of writing shit will write sh!t. oh my god it really kills me. 

like i said before, use whatever words you want, but if you're gonna use a word then use the word. putting an exclamation point instead of an i does not change the word. people will still read it as it is intended to be read, so why do it? if you feel uncomfortable writing it then don't use the word. if you feel uncomfortable having people read it, then don't use the word. but trying to use it without really using it is just obnoxious. and it totally ruins the whole mood of the piece for me, as well as the integrity of the writer's voice. it feels like s/he's trying to be someone s/he isn't and makes the whole thing sound childish and fake, which isn't fair to the piece or the emotions it is trying to express. like holden caulfield would say, s/he comes off as a phony. 

so please, for the love of my sanity, stop trying to use words without using them. it's not working for anyone. 

*Say What You Need to Say - John Mayer

i aint got nothing to say

it's crazy how fast i can go from clean apartment to tornado just blew here and left a neck-braking mess in its wake. sometimes i wish i was the kind of person that liked to clean. the kind that would pick up the mess on the floor instead of just picking a complicated path through it on the way to the kitchen for another cup of fruit punch. but mostly i'm just happy that i'm the kind of person that has a fairly high tolerance for mess. it makes it so much easier to be lazy.

i don't think my mind has realized that i am back home. i sit on the couch everyday compiling lists of things that i need to do, and only realizing that i could and should just do them right now when it's too late. i'm living in a moment of suspension. where i can spend a morning making chocolate covered cake balls and reading poetry and then laugh carelessly when someone brings up school and professors and exams. i'm starting three hundred different stories, poems, ideas and stopping them mid-sentence, mid-thought, mid-care. i'm opening novels just to stare at the letters on the page, letting my mind wander somewhere up on the ceiling - in the corner that holds sunlight even after darkness has claimed the rest of the room.

i know i should buckle down and finish something more than a chocolate bar, but i think i'll continue to float here, making friends with dust motes, until life and the real world decide to bring me down.

*Dancing in the Dark - Bruce Springsteen

i just don't know what to do, i'm too afraid

you know who i think are really brave? self-published authors.  they're willing to stand up for their work, to say i'm good enough to have people buy books with my name on them, even if a traditional publisher doesn't agree with me (or even if i don't want to use a traditional publisher). i don't need their validation. i will risk the stigma of self-publishing (which admittedly is starting to fade a bit. slowly, but it's starting) and get my words out there. it's amazing really.

about a year and a half ago i decided that i wanted to self publish a book of prosetry. then i got scared and changed my mind. then i decided that i wanted to do it again. then i thought, who do i think i am trying to make people pay money just to read me? the audacity of me. then i decided that i wanted to do it again. then a bunch of religious implications were thrown at me and i got scared again. (wow that's a lot of thens and agains.) basically it's been a long cycle of want, fear, insecurity, and self-doubt. and you know what it's taught me? self-published authors are really, really amazing. at the moment, i'm in a want to do it phase, but by the end of the week i'll probably chicken out again.

to be honest, i used to look down on self-published books like most everyone else. i'm not sure what changed exactly, but a few years ago i found that i was completely willing to give them the same chance i gave any other book. i mean, there are self-published books that are just pages and pages of complete crap, but so are a lot traditionally published books. for example, fifty shades of grey is a best seller and replaced harry potter as the most bought paperback ever. i mean, what?

since then, i've read articles about traditionally published authors who have switched to self-publishing for more control, better royalties, ability to publish good stories that don't necessarily fit into a sprcific genre, etc. i've read about self-published books that are wildly successful, ones that publishers want to buy, ones that have movie deals and crazy fan bases. but still, indie movies and music are considered cool, and indie books (which is basically what they are) are not. i don't get it.

but back to the point. i don't know if i'll ever have the guts or the faith in my work to self-publish. and people who do, i think you're pretty awesome.

disclaimer: wanting to self-publish a prosetry book has in no way changed or replaced my dream to traditionally publish a novel.

***UPDATE: i just found out that another twilight fanfiction has just gotten a freakin seven figure book deal. my faith in publishing and the human race is officially nonexistent.

*I'm Too Afraid to Love You - The Black Keys

now i'm gonna set them free, letters never sent

way back during my undergrad years (which feel a lot further in the past than they really are) i took a class that discussed identity. we had a bunch of interesting assignments for this class, and a couple of months ago i came across one where we had to write a letter to our future husband/wife. because this blog is pretty much my diary posted for the world to see, and everything goes straight from my head to your eyes, i figured why not share it with you. i was supposed to post it on my anniversary but having no internet at the time kind of made me forget. so here it is. (it's funny seeing how much and how little i changed since then.)


dear future soon to be husband,

let me start off by saying, wow. if you are reading this right now it means that i have agreed to marry you. after swearing left and right that i'd never in a million years get married, you must be some amazing specimen of the human species to have made me change my mind. let's take a moment to let you bask in your awesomeness before i proceed to tell you what an idiot you are.

okay, ready? first, i am extremely moody. i can be happy one day and suicidally depressed the next. i won't tell you why or explain myself, and i'll bite your head off for asking. i don't share much, feelings that is, and i probably spend more time in my head with my fictional friends than what is socially acceptable, but i don't care. you'll just have to deal with it. i like me, and am not going to change for anyone. if this seems like it'll be a problem for you, run. now. fast.

i have completely immature moments and can act like a five year old half the time. i have a childish appreciation of the world. i have an extremely high tolerance for mess. i talk in movie quotes and refer everything back to books, so you have to be well-read or watched or whatever to understand me. i talk fast, or so i've been told, and can't slow it down. i am sarcastic, all the time, and can turn anything into a joke if i have half a mind to. if you think you can not handle this, run. now. fast.

i like writing and the english language. i like to put the mundane things of everyday life into flowery language to give it beauty. i believe in magic and fairies and castles in the sky. i make stories in my head and put a fictional mask on reality, i let them bleed into each other more often than i probably should. i will correct your grammar and spelling and punctuation. i will use big words, even if i know you wont understand them. i may expose your deepest darkest secrets to the world in my characters. i may not have a lot to say out loud, but my writing can drag on forever, as you'll probably see by this letter. if i ever finish it. if you can't live like that, run. now. fast.

i am stubborn and like to argue, and am usually right. i have a twisted logic that is sometimes hard to follow, but makes sense if you can work it out. i like silences, both the awkward and the comfortable. i like facial hair and smiles that start in the eyes and staying at home. i like going to the movies and eating hamburgers for breakfast and chocolate bars for dinner. i will spend endless amounts of money on books and chocolate and never feel sorry about it, but you will have to listen to me whine about buyer's remorse if i buy anything else. if you can't do that, run. now. fast.

i don't like to ask for help, in anything. i can't make decisions to save my life. i don't like to feel dependent on anyone, and it takes me a while to really trust. i am generally not a people person. i have a terrible fear of failure that keeps me from trying something if i'm not completely sure i will excel at it. i will probably be better than you at a lot of things. we will play scrabble until you're counting up words in your sleep, and there is a very good chance that i will win. i can be cocky and arrogant and insecure. if that doesn't sound like something you can live with, run. now. fast.

but if you don't run, if you decide that you can live somewhere between fiction and reality where all the food is unhealthy and everything is debatable, then you'll find that there's some good in me, too. i can listen to a problem better than anyone i know, and solution finding, should it be needed, is a special gift of mine. i can be fun and caring and make you feel like the most important person on the face of this planet. i can bake the most amazing things, and my cooking isn't bad either. i can clean, if i have to. i grew up with the belief that it really is the thought that counts, and a fifty cent present is better than a fifty thousand dollar one. if i have agreed to marry you, then it must mean that i believe you're my true love (insert disbelieving scoff from the past). i am not disillusioned into thinking that means everything will be sunshine and butterflies all the time. there will be fights and arguments, pushing and pulling and lots of compromise and hard work, but i can do hard work. i'm pretty patient. i'll introduce you to great music, excellent movies, and amazing books. i like to help people and i love kids. though you may find something annoying in me every day, you'll find twice as many things that you like. i can dress up and dress down and look amazing either way, sometimes... kinda... maybe. i am accepting and open minded and a good person, even if some of the things i do or say seem to contradict that. i am not perfect and don't expect or want you to be perfect either.

i'm not sure who you are or if i've met you yet, but if sometime in my future you convince me to marry you, then congrats and good luck and i suppose i probably love you? maybe?

Sincerely,

20 year old Sarah

*Letters Never Sent - Carly Simon

so i'm back in virginia again and ready (maybe?) to stop being so lazy about blogging. i'm hoping that if i can get back into a semi-regular blogging schedule i can maybe force myself to get back into exercising and studying for my qual exams. maybe if i'm lucky i'll even force myself to learn the programming that i told all of my professors i was going to learn over the summer. but if "letting them down" is no motivation, then i'm really not too hopeful about this last goal. anyway, back to blogging. i have been writing for the past few weeks. most of it finds its way into drafted posts to be completed later, but it's still there. what i have been doing even more of, though, is reading poetry and pieces of prose to my sister, husband, and mom for hours at a time: really good writing, really bad writing, and bad writing that so obviously thinks it is good writing that it made me laugh. (no i am not mean.) what i haven't been doing a lot of was actual things - things worth writing about. leaving the house mostly consisted of visiting family, and those visits were mainly catching up on everything i had missed in the past year. there wasn't much time for outings and writable fun since my stay was so short.

there were a few noteworthy moments that i had planned to include in a sort of highlight reel of the summer. at the moment, though, i can't seem to remember what they were. i'm blaming this on jetlag and reserving the right to write a summer highlight post sometime in the next week or so. 

i'm finding it really hard to do the whole putting words into sentences thing right now. oh, and post titles will start again with the next post. thinking of lyrics is just not something i feel like doing at the moment. 

i have been in jeddah for about a week now (which means internet yay!) but just have not found the time or will to get back into blogging. there are so many blog posts that i have to read to catch up on the blogs that i'm following, there are so many posts that i have written in my head that need to be translated to pixels, there are so many visits to make and people to see and chess games to play (my brothers - especially the eleven year old - are newly obsessed with the game), and my i key is hardly working so i have to pound on it seven times every time i want to type an i. you just do not realize how many i's you use until something like this happens.

anyway, today is the first day of ramadan, so happy ramadan to everyone. i'm going to get into summer stories later so i guess this post is just a tad bit pointless, but i thought that seventeen days without any sort of update was a bit ridiculous. so here i am.

oh, and  cut my hair. it's the shortest it's been since i was probably seven (and now i'm twenty-four). it was the result of a semi-mix-up and resulted in a mini heart attack immediately after, but it's grown on me and i kind of like it now. so yeah, that's my big summer news. 

just a quick little update to prove that the plane across the world did not in fact fall into the atlantic ocean, and i was not rescued by a mermaid, and i am not now living in a castle under the sea. (though there was some major turbulence during a lot of the flight, so much so that the drinks were all jumping out of their cups looking for safety and the seat belt sign was more on than off.) i reached jeddah, and after a couple of days there we came to dhahran (where my husband's family lives). the internet situation is equally bad in both places (i might as well be in a castle under the sea. at least then i'd have a singing crab to amuse me). there is no internet in our rooms in either place and the second i leave the room to seek internet i get waylaid by someone or something or my computer is commandeered by my brothers who should be hooked up to technology drips, or it's time to leave somewhere, or i'm ready to sleep. anyway, we got a semi-connection thing here for our room yesterday, but it's agonizingly slow. it took me forty-five minutes just to open blogger and since writing this little paragraph i've been told twice that there is a problem with the connection and the post won't publish. so yeah, blogging will probably be infrequent until i get back to the states. hope you are all having great summers!