Allison Hurd's Blog, page 10

Eurovisionquest

Y’all, apparently Eurovision is going on. My feeds are awash with controversies about pacifist Vikings and gay Irish lads taking potshots at the Russians and I have no idea what’s happening.

I understand there’s singing. I’m led to believe that this is something like sports, in that the nations are competing, so there’s an element of sponsorship by the state. But I don’t actually know anything about sports, either, and my understanding of them is that they’re a facsimile for war. So I guess these musicians are…warrior bards? Trouble-dours, maybe?

The warrior bards of Stars Hollow. Troubledours if ever there were any.

Anyways, here’s my headcanon for what Eurovision really is.

As we all know, Europe is a hotbed for mysticism. From druids to Vikings, Visigoths to Gauls, Europe knows its gods. They all have slightly different traditions for supplication–casting auguries, ingesting herbs, spirit quests etc. but the true believers are there, and magic is a given for them.

Eurovision, then, is when all with Second Sight (that is, being able to see the future or the hidden lands) gather together to chant and show their countrymen what the gods hold in store for the future. However, as the emotional resonance in these nations for their warrior bards is so strong, those watching the Seers’ premonitions can actually sway the Fates, and, like observing an outcome in a quantum state, may actually change the outcome. So, hearts in their mouths, the pride of their forefathers deep in their bones, Europe comes together to collectively decide which future seen appears to be best for them, however “them” is defined by participants.

Clearly a priest of some sort.

This year’s worldviews seem to have some steep contention, as we’d expect in a climate as divided as it is now. Will Ireland push back the darkness of Russia? Will peaceful Denmark prevail? These are the questions that must be answered, and every day the stakes grow higher.

Friends Are the Family You Pick

Book three is jogging along! I estimate there are four chapters left, unless the story surprises me a lot somewhere on the descent. So yay! The light at the end of the tunnel is getting closer.

In this story, we’ll finally get to spend more time with Summer and Lia’s friends. I’m really excited for you to meet them. I like them a lot.

Writing about them though, I can’t help but think of the people who’ve inspired them.* It’s my personal belief that we need four types of relationships in life:

Someone who thinks we’re wonderful just as we are. [image error]

Someone who challenges us to become something better.

Someone who can share in the activities that speak to us.

And someone to be naked with, in any or all forms of the word.

It’s possible to find one person who does all of that for you, and when we do, we call them soulmate. But we are social creatures. Most people spread this out in different ways, and if you’re exceptionally lucky, you’ll be able to count more than one person for some or all of these categories.

I am pretty freakin’ lucky. Not only do I know I have a soulmate, I have a large group of people among whom I can split up my various hobbies, and a support team like you dream about–people who text to say how proud they are of me with no need for vagueposts or milestones in my career, and who patiently help me craft email after email even though I know their opinions so well by now I already know what they’ll say to me. I have brilliant minds and hearts so big I don’t know how ribs can contain them that push me constantly to think bigger thoughts and speak kinder words. This is what I want to share with everyone.

The friends in my books are the hand in the darkness that has been extended to me, and the boot up the ass when I needed it. I hope I can honor those who’ve encouraged me all this time and give everyone a taste of the glorious connection, the safety net that is a friendship which asks nothing but to be included in your life.

March is a big month for my friend-family. Between birthdays**, annual vacations, and the resurgence in social activities as winter thaws, I always greet the spring first in the smiles of the people who, inexplicably, miraculously, with no ulterior motives or thoughts of personal gain, call me friend. I write about magic a lot, but none is more precious than finding people who want to share in your triumphs and murderate everything that annoys you even in the slightest.

Thanks, friends, for all your support, offers of violence on enemies and rogue chair legs, and the way you make me laugh. I look forward to hearing each of you ask “is this me??” as you meet characters in the future!

*No, everyone, the mean people in the books are not you. Only the nice people are people I like, promise.

**Happy Birthday to you all! I don’t know what I did that everyone in my world is a Libra, Pisces or an Aries, but you do keep life interesting!

 

 

 

Take Your Partying Seriously

Last week we heard what Summer and Lia think it takes to adult. This week, I think I’d share some of my favorite hostessing tips. Not really related to the stories I tell, I know, but we’re hosting or participating in hosting a lot this month, so it’s on my mind.

There are so many benefits to hosting. You get to make foods you like and party themes or elegance levels that suit your mood. You get all your friends and not all of someone else’s friends. And, you don’t have to drive, so you can drink the entire time!

Having said that, here’s three tips on hosting so that people want to stay the whole time and prioritize your events over that other person who keeps trying to compete with your time slots.

Flavored Water

This sounds so incidental but it really is the one thing that people gravitate towards repeatedly.

God damn that’s so schmancy.

People like surprises, and for whatever reason, putting fruit in water is seen as some sort of brand new idea.  I’ve found, especially at parties with alcohol, people will forget to drink water. It’s not as fun as a mixed drink or as easy to get as a beer. But you throw some orange and lemon slices in a large pitcher (other favorites: lemon cucumber and strawberry basil) and suddenly people will drink water like it’s, well, wine. This is great to stave off heatstroke and from keeping your party from getting sloppy. Plus, it looks fancy AF.

 

 

Know your guests

Let’s be honest. People want to eat food and have a good time. That’s really all they want. The messy part is that the food and good time having are individual and subject to change. Who made humans? We’re so fickle! Why are we like this?

Most important, know dietary restrictions. And that there’s a difference between religious requirements, lifestyle requirements, allergies, illnesses and preferences. If you’re going to offer kosher or halal food, really know what that means. If you have someone who will suffer a medical crisis if food isn’t prepared a certain way, you need to add time to scour your kitchen before cooking. If possible, keep a separate cutting board for severe allergy responses. Scouring isn’t necessary if it’s just a preference, but that’s still important to keep in mind. Don’t threaten someone’s soul, colon or heart over a cookie for cryin’ out loud.

Next, the atmosphere. I like to tailor playlists to the group and type of event–a Halloween party with a bunch of punks is gonna feel different than a summer BBQ with your beach bum friends. Lighting is CRITICAL. I get teased for this but whatever fools, you know I’m right. If it’s outside, have different amounts of shade and temperature control options. Dimmers inside are super helpful. Lights on each table to allow people to see their conversation partners keep the party going longer. Knowing how your guests feel about heat or cold, about sitting doing nothing versus playing a game of some sort, joining a karaoke…all this means you’ll be able to anticipate the pitfalls and overcome them in a way that is thoughtful but not overbearing.

Pop quiz: Set up a menu and music selection that they’ll all appreciate without offending any of them. Please, please don’t antagonize them!

For me, as most gatherings tend to be fewer than 30 people, almost all of whom I know personally or in the context of someone I know well, I try to add at least one thing that will speak to them personally. A song on a playlist. A name of a drink, a food they love. This is twofold. First, it makes them feel included and special, which always puts folks a little more at ease. Second, it’s a great chitchat starter. Don’t know what to say? Maybe that one song by a favorite artist will strike a conversation in a lull.

This also helps you to keep an eye on the flow of the event. Scan the crowd periodically like you’re sizing up an assassination attempt. Look for people who aren’t talking or who are looking at their phones repeatedly for they are the party killers in waiting. Have a few ideas on hand for good activities or topics when things get contentious or quiet. Not that sitting quietly is always bad, but having an array of party games, dance music, people you trust to look out for folks who feel excluded (i.e. a counterstrike team) or even just setting up a new center of conversation around the potential sowers of discord can be the difference between a pleasant day and a soulsucking hour with a speedy departure.

Your mood is the event’s tone

This one’s tough, because you want everything to be perfect and let me tell you what, perfect is whatever your guests see. It is an illusion. You will always see the brown spots on your fruit salad or agonize that you hadn’t realized people had switched from preferring lagers to Belgian whites, or that politics came up way more than you thought it would. Whatever, it’s gonna happen. Know what people will find unacceptable? A stressed out host they never see. From long and painful experience, I’ve learned that people would rather wander in on you setting up and cutting veggies than have everything done but at the cost of a stressed and exhausted host.

Just be yourself!

In fact, I will often intentionally leave a few tasks undone so I can sit for a minute and gather myself before people show up. The early birds are likely those who pride themselves in their punctuality or your closest friends anyways, and both those groups often like feeling helpful. Asking them to fill some glasses or arrange some flowers in a vase is a laid back activity that asks everyone right from the start to feel included, provides more discussion opportunities and takes a few things off your plate. And if they’d rather not be put to work? That’s cool. Have a nice apron, pour them a drink and catch up while you finish the last touches. Whatever it takes to keep your mood joyful and your bearing that of a motherfucking queen. And, of course, thank everyone profusely for the small services they do that says how much they appreciate you, too.

I love getting people together. I know some amazing humans, and making sure they’re enjoying themselves is one of my favorite ways of showing them that I see how great they are. Drowning them with flavored water, scouting them like Secret Service, and making them work are things I will always do for my friends and their loved ones with a smile.

Adulting In 10 Easy Steps

Look. Summer and Lia aren’t what one would call “traditional” adults, with their jobs and pants and souffles or whatever. But non-traditional doesn’t mean immature. Here are the ten things they think are absolutely critical to coming across like a grown up.

Grown Up-ism 1: Personal hygiene.

Look, we get it. Showers are so far away. Some days you just don’t wanna, or maybe you can’t, for a multitude of reasons (we’re not judging). And whatever, you don’t have to. But if you don’t, you do absolutely need to clean the parts of you that sweat (yeah, those parts, too), reapply some form of culturally and medically appropriate antiperspirant, and change your underwear. No ifs, and or, well…butts.

Even the beach won’t save you.

Grown Up-ism 2: Observe common courtesy.

Hold the door for people behind you, regardless of their gender or age. Give your seat for people who are infirm, older, pregnant, or with small children without needing to be asked. Thank people who let you into the lane. Say hello to folks at the security desk or the register. Having been the person on the other side of the hello, you come across much more mature and worth helping.

Grown Up-ism 3: Basic car rules.

When signals are out, intersections become 4-Way stops. You have to merge before the merge lane ends. You can’t merge if a car is going to occupy the space you want to occupy before you’ll occupy it–try speeding up or slowing down to keep on the right side of science. These are basic physics.

The Most Adult.

If it’s raining or getting dark, even if you can see okay, turn your lights on, because it’s almost a guaranteed there’s someone having more difficulty than you somewhere behind you, and right now you look like the gorram highway.

 

 

Grown Up-ism 4: Say what you know and apologize when you’re wrong.

It’s okay to be wrong, you don’t have to make stuff up. Even God made spiders. Nobody’s perfect. But you look like an ass when you think you’re more right than God. Show some respect.

Grown Up-ism 5: Listen and observe.

Body language tells you so much. You’re missing half the conversation if you’re not seeing your friend fidget or frown or light up. More than half, if you’re also not listening to what they’re actually saying. We’re talking about you, past several first dates.

This says “Please let me leave now.”

Grown Up-ism 6: Clean one thing that people wouldn’t expect to stay clean.

Like baseboards or the dashboard. Boards in general are good for impressing people, which is probably why adults always want to be on one. It’s basically like wearing designer brands but for your surroundings and super cheap. Everyone thinks you’re fancy, when really it’s just your odometer isn’t covered in Slurpee as of recently.

Grown Up-ism 7: Lying to doctors.

Shake your head knowingly when the dentist reminds you that your heart may explode if you don’t floss. Act surprised when your gums bleed from gentle cleaning. Also, have a dentist, which is probably what this section should have been called. See? Look at us implementing Grown Up-ism #4.

Grown Up-ism 8: Take your change to be turned into dollars.

Using cash frequently enough that you need to do something about the change (other than let it roll around the console of your car, scratching up the abandoned iPod and emergency sunglasses) is extremely stately. It says that you’re always prepared and never have to rely on credit cards. Also you’ll never have to pay ATM fees or be surprised by little bodegas and mom&pop shops if you only use cash.

Grown Up-ism 9: Picking food that includes vegetables.

This is actually a two-fer. First, learn how to pick food. Get a system and stick with it. None of this “I’ll go last” nonsense. Be assertive! Don’t you dare send the server away twice! Secondly, really impress people by getting something that has no food you want to eat. Tell them you want a side salad instead of fries, then go to the “bathroom” and tell the server to switch that back to fries but that you’re going to pretend you didn’t talk to them. Then, have you pride and eat it, too. And if you need to make a power move, get something like a kale salad. People will know your chompers and colon are ready for anything.

Why yes I just *sob* love eating things that burst and *cry* require so much chewing.

Grown Up-ism 10: Don’t do things you don’t want to do.

Like this. We said we’d do 10 but we’re over this now. End of list. #adultinglikeapro #hashtagsarealsoprofesh #dealwithit

My Best Is Being An Idiot This Week

I really don’t have much to say this week. I’ve been a terrible goal-keeper lately, in the sense that I am not meeting my goals. I am always a bad goal-keeper in quidditch or those other sports.

I could lie, and tell you things are great or that a Pegasus ate my computer, or I could give you all of my real and totally valid excuses, but I just respect you too much, and really I think my integrity deserves praise, even if my ambition is failing me. So, you’re welcome, don’t mention it.

Instead of any of those things, here’s a list of stuff that I really need to be doing, but which aren’t getting done, and anyone who wants to fight about it can find the spare key, lug me off the couch, and convince me to square up.

My book, obvs. It’s at such an exciting point! I really want to be working on it. But instead I’m not.
Learning a new language. I am about 6 months behind my study of Creole.
Beta reading a friend’s book. Also at the exciting part!! And excellent! But taking me forever because life is awful and full of pain.
Painting my bookshelves. They’re gonna look so good, friends. Right now they look, well…not good.

I mean, you can see where I’m going with it.

Writing for various blogs. I owe at least article (oh, shit, no, two articles) and one “about” section to different people. Sigh.
Cleaning the house. These dust bunnies are just about ready to fight my cats, and I’m getting scared they’ll win.
Recording the audiobook for Feeding Frenzy. Y’all. This book came out two years ago. Two. American. Years.
Watch The Good Place. Yes, thank you, I’ve heard it’s amazing. It’s on the list.

So, yeah, it’s been busy and I’m extremely behind, but it’s February. I have worn pants or better every single day so far, and I’ve only yelled at, like…3-5 people. If you think about it, I’m kind of a rock star.

Here’s hoping this week is really stellar and I have so much to tell you next week!

Life Goal: Don’t Get Barked At

This will be a spoiler-free post, but I just saw Black Panther and just…

I’m at a total loss. I’m not sure if Marvel’s been holding out on us this whole time, whether they’ve just redefined superhero movies forever, or if this was the brilliant once-in-a-lifetime occurrence that we’ll keep trying to taste but never be able to recreate.

In short, go see it.

I SAID GO SEE IT.

But with this coming out, Luke Cage’s previous buzz, Get Out and the ascendance of more culturally Black narratives, it’s also important for the white majority to consider their place in these stories. It’s not a positive take. There’s not a lot positive to say. We can change that, but the damage is done, for now. As citizens of the world, as compassionate folks looking for better, we need to see that we are colonizers, thieves, and oppressors until proven otherwise. And then prove otherwise.

“That’s great,” you say. “How do we do that?”

First things first, go see Black Panther. Laugh at the jokes. Think about what stings. Study our history, even the Black parts. And then vow to do better in the future. Talk it out. Revel in the wonderful. Don’t run from the shame of the past. You don’t (or you shouldn’t) get defensive every time a friend talks about an ex of the same gender as you. In fact, we usually agree! Bitches are crazy. Dudes do suck. White people are awful. Me? I don’t think I’ve ever been a crazy bitch. My bitchiness has always been totally rational, and I’d be happy to explain it to you. My whiteness? Well, I’ll be honest, I’ve screwed up a few times, but I’m learning and growing like a person does when they care about how they impact others. I see the little things I’ve done–microaggressions, they’re called–when I’ve looked to a person of color to explain to me an entire culture. When I’ve played Devil’s advocate in a fight that’s been argued since the 1800s. Meaning no harm doesn’t mean no harm was done. I can accept this and deal with it, or I can make someone else deal with it which is…well, if that’s not the definition of oppression, I’m not really sure what is.

No one really expects anyone to speak with complete understanding. My motto is and continues to be “progress, not perfection.” Keep listening. Keep growing. Keep challenging yourself to be better.

Do whatever you can not to get barked at, and if you do get barked at, take it as an invitation to sit down and listen.

And to everyone else reading this, we are listening, and I’m so happy this movie was as amazing as it was. Can’t wait to see everyone again in the next installment of the Marvel Universe!

 

 

I’ve Got 99 Problems, & Physics Is All of Them

Today I’d like to discuss the nature of time and space. And how one human can actually only ever be in one place in one time which is absolute bull.

Like honestly, what’s this all about?

I keep wanting to disprove this by sheer will, but the four dimensions are all like “you ain’t nothin’,” and then it’s 9 PM and I’ve only crossed one thing off of my list.

So today this post is late, because time is stupid, and space is too much. And to add injury to insult, I had to wake up at 5:30 this morning, and go to the gym, because not only are the building blocks of the universe complete jerks, but past me was a total overachiever and signed present me up for two weeks of misery. So I’m tired, hungry (my fault, not the goal’s, or past Allison, either. She’d be disappointed in my eating today, credit where it’s due).

Furthermore, there’s been a lot going on in real life that’s been really taxing. So, while I have you here, real talk time.

If you haven’t had a glass of water today, drink some now.

If you haven’t laughed this week, make plans to see friends.

If you haven’t felt good this month, pick something that will rejuvenate you and do it.

If you still aren’t well, tell someone.

If you haven’t been to the doctor this year, go.

If you’ve never seen a therapist, or if you haven’t seen yours in over a year, it’s time for a tune up. Just go. Know thyself. It’s been too long, and trust me, even happy people can benefit from someone who knows how your brain works.

To recap:

Time ain’t shit.
Space is a bully.
Past-Allison is the orchestrater of everything that’s wrong with my life
Everyone needs to stay healthy.

Got it? Good. I’ll make more excuses next week.

PS Altered Carbon was pretty good. Don’t tell Future-Allison we (I? she?) told you we watched an episode.

Mr. Bean! You snitch!

 

 

It’s All A Game Til Someone Gets Hurt

This may not seem like a sports related page, but when you live in a town that’s in the big game and has a history of rioting win or lose, sports become very important.

If you’re visiting Philly and unused to its antics, I’d stay with a group, unless that group is starting to look like a mob, and then go somewhere else. Get a water ice or a hoagie or something. Cool off. Up is not an option. We tend to grease or otherwise slick poles so that no one gets hurt or causes millions of dollars in property damage by toppling signs.

Again.

Not that that seems to stop people from getting hurt on poles.

 

And this was pre-game! Not even after the win! God help us all.

Go birds, and please fans, don’t burn down anything important, like Reading Terminal Market or the lunch trucks.

Some Things The Future Isn’t

Living in the future is pretty amazing. We’re a little low on the hoverboard score, but I can talk to someone face to face 7,000 miles away with a click of a button! Robots clean our houses, and apparently take care of other needs, but really, Twitter, I need you to calm down about that. This isn’t that exciting, women have had that sort of help since the dawn of time. You’re late.

But things are also a little confusing. I’m not sure why teen fashion magazines, rogue government employees and satirical aromatic vegetables are the leaders in our dystopic revolution. I don’t know why we keep having to remind people that all people are people and deserve the same things as other people, like respect, and access to various robots. I feel like that should be universal by now.

Seeing what we thought the future would be like compared to what it really is has got me thinking. Here are some depictions of the future that just seem dead wrong.

Firefly

I love Firefly, and I don’t care what the haters say, it’s still great TV. But also, who got to the point in human civilization when abandoning Earth became imperative and then thought “You know what? Let’s bring back bonnets and full skirts. That seems like the best thing for space travel and farming hostile landscapes.”

It ain’t happening, bub. I get it, sewing is hard, and in a present full of robots to take care of menials tasks like hems, we don’t have much practice. But still. Unless everyone’s in togas, I can’t see girls giving up jeans. What are we wearing in the future? Jeans. You hear that Marty McFly? Not Air Pump sleeves. Jeans. Also, we already have robots for pants. What happened to them? For the love of Jeans, don’t ditch the sewing machine! Or the Roomba! We earned those! And I follow, bonnets are good for shade and keeping your hair kinda clean. So get sun hats. Or hoodies. Or some sort of space garment.

Fifth Element

Radio. Radio? Radio wasn’t even a thing when Fifth Element was. I can buy it if society collapses, because radio waves are rudimentary. But radio shows and winning cruises? What? Napster was already happening. Read the writing on the wall, radio heads. ‘Cause the radio doesn’t make it into a future where New York exists in eternal night. Podcasts? Maybe. Reaction videos on YouTube? Sure. Reality TV even maybe, but I think even that is of limited longevity. Definitely not shock jock radio personalities with sound effects and song clips.

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep

And a little of Blade Runner, too. Let me say it straight up. No one is going to maintain a pet sheep, or waste money on a fake pet sheep, in a world with flying cars and false people. You can bet your ass that if lives became that hard to maintain, someone would set up some sort of endangered animal adoption, like the otters or penguins in a zoo, and towns would have roving herds of deer kept by a team of biologists. Because animals are expensive and actually not very good companions if they’re not bred for domesticity. And also, neon better not be the best light source. LED is already killing it. If the world is all neon in the future, I’m buying a baseball bat. Don’t even get me started on synth music.

By Anya Dmitrieva

I guess that even as weird and wrong our present-future is in so many respects, at least we’re skipping some parts of the predictions that would have made me seriously consider the viability of our species. Sure, we’re ignoring the environment, re-hashing old struggles and people are now “partying like it’s 1999” for theme parties, but bonnets aren’t mainstream again. Yay us?

What other portrayals of the future seem completely inconsistent with reality?

 

Small Alien Abduction

On Friday, I experienced an alien abduction.

Not like the UFO kind, with little green men and probes, that would be ridiculous.

No, this is one I inadvertently signed up for.

All I wanted was to be able to see again. Since I was 10, I’ve been going steadily blind, to the point that, without some sort of corrective wear, the big letter on the vision test is a somewhat grey blur to me that suggests that there is in fact something on the screen, but it’s anyone’s guess what it is.

So I asked the Mad Scientist Guild for new eyes. They were hesitant at first. They said my eyes were not ready. That they lacked characteristics they sought for applicants.

I’m sad to say I fell into their trap.

I pleaded. I begged. I set date limits. And they oh so grudgingly allowed it, like they were doing me a favor.

Which led to be being swabbed with Iodine on Friday night, hospital booties over my work shoes, shower cap on my head. I was led, blind, to an operating theatre with a teddy bear on the bed. I was ushered forward, the toy thrust into my hands as bright lights became the only sensation. Then, I was fitted with The Clockwork Orange style anti-blinkers and my eyes were water-boarded.

“It might get a little dark,” the surgeon said. And I found myself in utter blackness.

“Find the green light,” he taunted me from the abyss.

This is more or less what it looked like. But with more green.

Frantically I searched, hoping to see a light, anything, really. Hoping I hadn’t made a mistake. It returned. The green light, surrounded by its distracting red brothers, became my touchstone. A disembodied voice called out numbers and words whose meanings I could not discern, as there were not sensors attached to me that I could feel. Another voice spoke urgent commands “left, center. Stop.”

When the voices quieted, I was assured I was doing well, but must absolutely hold still. Then came the painless but unmistakable sensation of cutting, like a papercut. On my eye. Implements hazy without my lens descended into my line of sight and pressure indicated something being moved.

“Hold still,” I was reminded. A sound, the television sound of lasers snapping against a surface, followed by the smell of singed hair accosted me. My eye is burning I thought distantly, and I understood then the teddy bear. I grabbed it to me, feeling the soft fur against the ridges of my finger pads.

This was repeated, with greater fear now that I knew what to expect on my left eye.

Finally, after so few minutes that stretched to an eternity, the lights came back on, the disembodied voice became a calm, professional nurse, who led me, dazed but able to see unassisted to the recovery room.

And so I sat, my eyes closed, the lights dim, the faint sound of lasers conjuring the smell of singed eyes and then the quick transfer of new bodies around me. Our eyes burned and throbbed, like they were filled with sand from under an equatorial sun. We were assured this was normal.

Adding insult to injury, the only sound was that of smooth jazz.

Half an hour later, I escaped. The kind doctor, the one they trot out to assure you were not just abducted, did her job, and I was comforted. My vision was there. My eyes were still blue, and not some stranger’s coloration.

I’m not sure what exactly happened, but they held up their part of the bargain.

I could see again.

I can see.