cry havoc

looking for something else... and I found this. I've been quoted! Or referenced. Or just bibiolographied. (Several times, apparently, but it's only a partial preview so idk.)



from The Wind Is Never Gone: Sequels, Parodies and Rewritings of Gone with the Wind by M. Carmen Gómez-Galisteo

This past week, we headed back home for my sister's... shindig... and I mentioned to my step-father about the massively disappointing Korean meal I'd had. Well, this would never do. (Says a man who buys homemade kimchi by the huge bottle-full from his "source" -- the mother of the woman who does my mother's nails, because "it's not the same when it's store-bought".) Friday we all piled into the car and headed off to the best Korean place inside an hour's drive, and my Mom and I shared pork bulgogi while CP and the SF had some kind of noodle-beef-spice dish (didn't catch the name). After we demolished all of the awesome little dishes that came first, of course.

We get home today, and it's blistering hot and the A/C is still broken (but due to be fixed tomorrow, yay). Naturally this means we might as well eat out -- anything for non-104F temps, basically -- and we decide we want more Korean. Ah, new place getting good reviews in our local Asian shopping center (represents of Taiwan, PRC, Korea, and Vietnam), so off we head.

Even more little dishes ahead of time, plus (our eyes being bigger than our stomachs after spending most of the day on various planes) seafood pancakes -- oh so good -- and then a kind of four-bulgogi sampler called SsamBob. Whomever told me on the last post that Korean food is somewhat hot, sometimes (spicy-wise), but always complex, spicy-wise, totally spoke the truth. So spicy, so incredibly yummy.

Except I had this one question... When the proprietor came over to check on us, she'd been so helpful with what-to-get recommendations that I figured, maybe she could answer this question. I explained I'd watched a Korean show with Moon Geum-Young, in which the actress was making kimchi. I saw the sliced cabbages and some other chunks of vegetables, and then this HUGE BAG (like 2lbs worth HUGE) that was nothing but red powder. Was that, uhm, entirely chili powder she was dumping by the double-handfuls into the vegetables?

First, the proprietor said, yes, it was. And then she said, "you know Moon Geum-Young? You watch her television shows?" I said, of course, she's adorable, and I've done my best to see everything she's in. (Excepting Tale of Two Sisters, which I have but haven't watched yet because it may be over my creep limit in re horror, but anyway, I did see Innocent Steps and Painter of the Wind, and most of MSOAN, so, yeah.) But, she wanted to know, was that all I watched? I said, "no, I've also--" right as CP goes, "My Girlfriend is a Gumiho!" and the proprietor just cracked up (while managing to look surprised that CP had also watched the show, and unsurprised he thought Shin Min-ah is gorgeously charming with dimples that kill). ...and then she asked what else I'd watched. I said, "I'm watching Lie to Me, because it's got Kang Ji-hwan," and she put her hand to her heart and looked like she was going to swoon.

Next thing you know, I'm rattling off all the pretty boys: Lee Min-ki (Dalja's Spring), and Lee Jun-ki (Time Between Dog and Wolf), and Lee Min-ho (City Hunter) -- except I hadn't even gotten out what LMH is in right now, just his name, and the proprietor says, "City Hunter? Are you watching City Hunter?"

Me: OF COURSE. It's got a pretty boy in it!

Then I told her what the American-language fandom calls most of these young actors: noona killers (as in, "older sister killers"). She cracked up all over again, and said that fit perfectly. Clearly a woman after my own heart, and we totally bonded over Hong Gil Dong and Chuno and Greatest Love and Civil Servant Grade 7 and so on. Although notably, neither of us were all that about Yon-sama (or whatever his Korean name is, I can never remember) who was in Legend. We'd trade him in for Lee Min-ho any day. Or Kang Ji-hwan. Though clearly we'd have to get in line.

ETA: Almost forgot, the universal symbol for a particular hot leading man (who, incidentally, is actually older than me, so not really a noona killer). She mentioned Greatest Love, and I tried to say the actor's name. Cha Seung-won, I think his name is spelled? She didn't react, so I knew I said it wrong, so instead I ran my fingers over my face to make the "cow" symbol -- the way the guy's beard is trimmed, it looks like the Chinese character for "cow". Immediately she did the same, and knew exactly who I meant. Bwah.

I am totally going back to try the rest of the dishes (and next time, bringing friends, because that's a lot of food for two people, even if we did come home with leftovers). Besides, the proprietor was willing to patiently explain the parts of the usually-slurred-so-fast-on-TV way to say hello: anaunhah-seoh. Hmm. Maybe I should stick to trying to slur it.

Nice to know I'm not the only noona in this town, getting killed twice weekly.

Odetta, the great dane mix grande dame, was a Sherman Tank: she didn't go very fast, but she could take out entire bushes and small trees to get there. Saimhain, the beagle-mix with only two braincells, was an old Army Jeep: could get up pretty fast when must needs (preferably if also going downhill with a tailwind, in a hurricane), but then she'd come to a complete and sudden stop and need at least eight hours of rebuild time before she got going again.

Me: I'm not sure what Balto would be.
CP: Something big, not too fast, but happy.
Me: Drawing a blank.
CP: I'm thinking a VW bus.
Me: That works. A real trooper, and when he does break down, it doesn't take much to make him happy again.
CP: All he needs are the flowers painted on the side.
Me: He's a happy boy.
CP: And sort of round, too, just like a bus.

I think we ended up deciding Sachiko might be an old Peugot coupe, an Austin-Healey, maybe a Triumph Herald (coupe). Something, as CP put it, "with British electronics". The kind of vehicle that's cute and trying for elegant, although as a mongrel she's a little on the discount side -- but not quite as low-class as a Pinto. One that's fun, but don't breathe wrong or it'll stop working and simply refuse to do anything unless coddled for at least an hour.

Me: She's a flakey girl, after all. She'd be a flakey car.
CP: Just think Lucas wiring.

In Korean (hangul, not romancized): how would you say, "feed me"? The imperative form that a five-year-old might use to demand from parents would be perfect, if the verb form is required.

In Swedish: how would you say, "says the machine" where "says" is something like the English "cried" (not as in tears, but in exhortation or command). Alternate verbs: "demanded" or "insisted"... you probably get the idea.

The story: our dryer died, and my father & stepmother are gifting us with a new one. I had originally looked at Frigidaires, Kenmores, and GEs, but got sidetracked into looking at LGs and was rather impressed with the quality for the money. When I called my father back to let him know the various models, and mentioned that I'd started considering LGs as well, Dad's reply?

"Ah, LGs are good machines. I've spoken with the company's president."

I really, really need to stop being astonished by how much my father gets around. Heads of state, heads of chaebols. Righto! Just another day on the range, to be invited to a conference call with the freaking president of LG to discuss washing machines. Honestly. Right up there with being invited to have an informal sit-down dinner with the King of Sweden.

Hence the combination of languages in the phrase. Will post pictures when done. TIA!

from Artisphere:

By Any Other Name : An Evening of Shakespeare in Klingon
Washington Shakespeare Company

Sunday, February 27, 7:30 pm
Black Box Theatre

The BBC is creating a five part documentary about language and how humans communicate called Planet World. Washington Shakespeare Company's (WSC) By Any Other Name will be filmed live for the documentary series. As part of the evening, world-renowned writer/actor Stephen Fry will perform a Klingon role in a scene from Hamlet.

The evening will begin with an introduction by Marc Okrand, creator of the Klingon language.

Like askerian, who bestowed this gem of wisdom upon me this evening:

English cheats because it comes in little chopped-up bits that you can reassemble just about any possible way (and some that really shouldn't be but why not.) English is flexible and comes with interchangeable pieces, like someone wearing belts around their thigh, sunglasses as a hairband, and colored socks on their hands as funny gloves because it's fashionable and even if it doesn't catch on it's fun right now and so long as people know what it's saying then it's all good. French is a dowager countess with petticoats and a corset, and god forgive you if you dress her up wrong, because she won't.

I swear, I'm gonna frame that paragraph.

And for the other bit of trivia this even, from hl, about what I thought was a typo... but wasn't. Instead, it's a very cool adaptation of the language:

[Invitad@ is] to get around to referring to the person as male or female. In Spanish male is neutral, except it doesn't work so well (mostly like in English -- except that in Spanish you've to refer to gender in a lot of places), so in some net places, specially if the writing isn't formal, the '@' is used to get around that. It's because the male ending of the phrase would require an 'o', and the female one an 'a', and the '@' looks like an 'o' with an 'a' inside. It's like writing invitado/a except slightly prettier and slightly shorter...

I love what humans do with language.

And another one, this time from German:

The AutorInnen / AutorIn is a shorthand for saying Autoren and Autorinnen [male author and female author]. The capital i in the middle means that it is supposed to stand for both forms. It *looks* like a generic femininum with the i (which usually you can recognize the femals version of the word by) capitalized, but is specifically meant to include males, too. It's just a stylistic form that not everyone is fond of (it's a bit leftist/feminist. also, possibly "out"). But I think for the purpose of keeping the lines as short as possible it would be preferrable to always saying "Male and Female Authors".

One of the most fascinating aspects of language, especially in gendered languages, is how people have figured out ways to adapt those gendered forms into a world where we're starting to incorporate -- explicitly incorporate, that is -- both men and women. Just like the old English argument over whether "him" and "he" really is inclusive for "her" and "she", or how saying "the world of man" is supposed to automatically include women, even if the message becomes that only men are worth mentioning and women are an afterthought... the ways we take language and poke here and pull there to make it start changing to reflect new priorities, sheesh, I could go on about man's human linguistic inventiveness all day.

"...a leader in the field for over half a decade."

Somehow, I'm not feeling over half as impressed as they seem to expect me to be.

We trained Baccano to come in at dusk by teaching him that tapping-on-metal means gravy! canned food. He learned on his own that "taking out a small dessert plate" means "dinner is about to be served", thanks to CP talking to Baka while he got out the can, the fork, and a plate, to lead the way to the Place Of Gravy (aka the guest bathroom).

For the next two weeks, Balto has to eat soft/canned food while his mouth heals, so he's now got his own stash of canned food in the pantry. Last night, Baka came in while I was in the kitchen getting ready to put out food for Balto. Of course Baka has to shark around underfoot, rattling like all get out (it's sort of like the motion cats will make to spray, except no spraying -- he just rattles like crazy in excitement).

Then I opened the drawer where the plates are kept, and pulled out a full-size dinner plate, for Balto's meal. Baka took one look at the size of the plate and let out a loud MWAOOOH!

It sounded exactly like he'd just cried out in joy, "whoa!", at the size of how much gravy! canned food he'd be getting. And then I pulled out the large can of (dog) food, and Baka just about rattled right out of his skin in pure joy.

I almost didn't have the heart to disappoint him.

Yesterday I flaked out on errands because it was 4pm already, a torrential downpour, and the start of a three-day weekend. Given this city's penchant for water-soluble driving skills, the last thing I wanted to deal with was a whole highway of the oblivions, in rain, on a friday afternoon, when everyone's getting into the holiday mood. Bleah.

So instead I went out at 10pm to get cat food, and that's when my clutch cable snapped, instead.

On the other hand, the 10pm trip was supposed to be short, because CP was going to head out with the car in time for a midnight get-together with friends -- which means if the cable was that close to snapping and it hadn't been me, it probably would've been him, instead. On the side of the highway, in a torrential downpour, at two in the morning.

All things considered, better to have the cable snap in the grocery store parking lot when you're not even out of first, yet. Unfortunately, stupid modern computerized cars means you can't even start the car unless the clutch pedal's down -- as opposed to the Porsche or the Austin-Healey, which you could start in neutral without the clutch pedal down. And that means no starting the car at all, once the cable's snapped, and that means no point in even trying to remember the specific ratios for shifting sans clutch pedal. Damnitall.

( Oh my god, it's my grandfather's car and it's parked in my driveway. )

However, I'm still not entirely sure how to explain to my little veedub that I'm no more happy than it is about that sofa skulking in the driveway.