The Dogini Diaries

Are you experiencing Getting Olderitis yet?

Recently, a friend asked me if the daughter's graphic tablet (a sort of electronic drawing pad linked to the computer) was easy to use. 

To my shame, I had to admit that whether one deemed it 'easy to use' or not, depended on who you were. 

Although I consider myself quite able with technology, I didn't do very well with the graphic tablet. The results of an hour's worth of fiddling were a few monochrome chicken scratchings. The daughter, on the other hand, started producing astonishingly detailed works of art using multiple 'brushes', 'pens', filters and colours, not more than three seconds after it came out of the box. 

I could blame the failure, on my well documented lack of artistic talent - people routinely mistake drawings I've done as the work of my offspring when they were toddlers (newsflash: by age three, they were both far more talented than I am presently) - but actually I think my main problem was Getting Olderitis.

You know how parents say things like, "Just wait until you're older/have children/have to look after a family. THEN you'll understand," while their child rolls their eyes, sighs and looks (not surreptitiously enough) at their watch? 

Well, I'm finally beginning to understand what they were talking about.

How many of you have, upon seeing your parents bumbling around, snatched the video recorder controller from them in a fit of teenage exasperation, set the recording times, and returned the controller with a condescending smile? 

Did you also mutter, "I'm never going to be that inept when I'M older!" while you were 'helping' them? 

I'm guilty of both the above.

However, having fallen on the other side of the fence a few times of late, I've resolved to be more patient in the future, when my mother calls and says dramatically,  "The computer is broken again: the email I was typing disappeared while I was typing it!"

To be fair, I've kept up pretty well. I'm still very au fait with the software and bits of equipment I use - I troubleshoot all my computer issues, I know and can use all the different settings on my camera , and I can even operate my hi-tech oven, which came with a manual that rivalled the phone directory for thickness. 

But, I seem to have lost that instinct young people have, for effortlessly being able to operate any and all electronic gizmos without so much as a passing look at an instruction booklet.

Getting Olderitis is scary. You think that you have it beat, then it sneaks up on you and coshes you on the head when you least expect it.

Here's another example. I thought that I could operate every standard appliance in the house. I mean, how hard could it be, right?

Well, due to the fact that I never watch TV - I much prefer to read or go to the cinema (another symptom of Getting Olderitis?) - I found myself in the embarrassing position of being unable to make the TV work the other day, when the cable man came to check it. Who could have guessed that you had to turn the stereo on too? In the end, I had to call the son out. He looked at me, rolled his eyes... turned it on, and exited.

Well, at least he didn't sigh or look at his watch.

Things can only get worse, as kids continue to get more savvy. Some parents are already finding out the hard way. For example, did you hear about the 3-year old in Wellington, who, chancing upon an internet auction site her mum had been buying toys on, bid on, and won the auction for a NZ$12,300 earth excavator?

Apparently the first her mum knew about it was when she got an email from the vendor saying, 'I think you'll love this digger' and the accompanying bill!

Whoops...

Looking yourself up (and down)

Today, I googled myself - for the first time in years. I decided to do so, as a result of someone telling me that they had looked me up on the 'Net. Luckily, nothing untoward turned up, and I breathed a big sigh of relief. Not because I do anything dodgy, mind, but because the last time someone started off the sentence with, "I googled you today..." it was followed by, "...did you know that some of the links take you to a porn site?"

Imagine my horror, when I discovered that someone had taken vast sections of a writing website and somehow grafted it onto their porn site, so that anyone doing a search of a writer featured on the latter would be directed to a page with extremely dubious content. 

It took Google several days to fix the problem, and the writers' site had to close down  to sort out the cyber-mugging. Whilst all this was happening, I chewed my nails and obsessed about the number of people who might have seen the link and wondered about my character.

Fortunately, at about the day 2 mark, I had a reality check and realised, that as I wasn't Angelina Jolie (or even Angelina Ballerina), it was very unlikely that anyone had googled me at all, apart from the person who had called me. Which was a relief... 

I also realised that I was lucky to have a unique name - a blend of an unusual Japanese name and a fairly uncommon English surname - as this makes the odds of any other Mio Debnams being out there, doing dodgy things and sullying 'our' good name, very low. 

Mind you, even having a naughty homonymous self isn't the worst case scenario - just imagine if you were the other Britney Spears - or 'No, no, not that Michael Jackson'!

How bad would that be? It makes the mind boggle doesn't it?

Let's do a social experiment... Next time you're on Google, look yourself up, and let me know if you find any alternative You, and whether they look like the type of person you wouldn't mind being, or would definitely NOT want to be!

Telling Tales

Well I did it, I actually managed to write 7 picture book drafts in 7 days. Of them, at least three are rather pathetic, but I think that two, or maybe even three have hope, given a rewrite and a spot of judicious polishing. 

Having said that, due to the breakneck speed of the NaPiBoWriWee challenge I haven't looked at the stories since I finished each one, so it's entirely possible that I'll open the documents next week (when possible I leave any new writing 'in my drawer' for at least a week before assessing it) and find out that they are dreadful. 

If that happens, I've resolved to try to save at least two of them! As Jack Gantos told us during his HK visit, writing the first draft is about 30% of the work. The rest is rewriting and honing. He claimed that this was his favourite part of the writing process. I can't say it's mine, but it is sort of exciting when you revisit something and find that it has promise. Fingers crossed that it happens this time!

In the meanwhile, I've been thinking about stories of a slightly different nature. The son's year group at school are about to start writing biographies of each other, and I've been invited in, to give a talk about why and how anecdotes are necessary in a biography to liven it up and to show (rather than tell) the reader what the subject is really like.

To find good examples of anecdotes, I've been trawling through a Word document I've been adding to since 1995 when the daughter first started saying hilarious things worth recording. The document, which runs to 31 pages and is nearly 15,000 words in length, is packed with memorable quotes from both the daughter and son with a few guest entries from other people, such as my mother*.

As the son will be in the audience for my talk, I (sadistically?) decided to pick out some funny anecdotes about him, to illustrate my points. Needless to say, he was horrified. In an effort to stop me, he told me that I would have to pay him, "a lot of money," were I to do such a heinous thing.

He was taken aback when I countered with a quick, "how much?" then engaged in a lively bargaining session. The upshot was that I managed to win the right to tell an anecdote about him for seventy HK dollars (less than US$10) - a small price to pay, especially considering I'd forgotten to give him his pocket money for the last three weeks. 

Little does he know that I've moved on from the anecdote about his sleeping habits which I'd been talking about at the time, and have instead settled on one concerning a nappy, a poo, and a large dog. Will he still talk to me after Wednesday? I hope so, as he's very amusing to chat to.

Stay tuned...

*My mother, who I credit for giving me a kooky sense of humour, appears in the Best Quotes document several times. How could I not include the person, who, amongst other things, once hissed, "there's a really rude woman who is always staring at me, whenever I glance over," before pointing discreetly to a mirror about six metres away. To be fair, as she was getting her hair done, she didn't have her specs on, and she did roar with laughter when informed that the rude woman was her own reflection!

The Big Singalong, 'Aporkalypse' and A Book A Day Challenge

Last Tuesday, a choir composed of 850 kids from eleven local junior schools held a concert. The son was in the choir so I was one of the adoring crowd. The performance was excellent - the kids, all decked out in blue, sang (tunefully) with gusto and verve - as well as clapping and dancing in perfect synchrony.

All quite amazing considering that they'd rehearsed as a single entity for the first time that day. We were all impressed...

It's a shame the stadium staff weren't as impressive. In the middle of one song, a cleaner suddenly appeared, stage left, holding a mop. Seemingly unaware of the hundreds of singing children around her, she wandered through the middle of the choir. It was like a scene out of a Monty Python sketch. Reaching the centre of the 'stage', she stopped and looked around in wonderment, before putting her head down and plodding on. Eventually, she disappeared into the exit, stage right, dragging her mop behind her.

To the choir's credit, they didn't miss a note!

Actually, it's lucky that the concert took place when it did, as if it had been next Tuesday, the chances are it might have been postponed or cancelled. Since the confirmation that a Mexican  visitor has been diagnosed with swine flu, Hong Kong has gone into hypersafe mode, and rumours are swirling about that schools may be closed again.

Strangely, both my children are praying that the rumours remain just that. The daughter, who is currently on study leave pending her GCSE exams, doesn't want schools to close because, "That would be, like, so unfair, since we're having our study leave and it doesn't help us!" whilst the son is really looking forward to his P6 summer production, the graduation parties and all the fun events lined up this term and would hate to miss any.

Apart from nagging everyone to wash their hands, I'm keeping fairly calm about the potential 'Aporkalypse' (as the situation has been brilliantly named by Maggie Koerth-Barker) - even though the fact that there are people walking around town in masks, and all antiseptic wipes have sold out, are a horrible echo of the 2003 SARS ordeal.

As the patient himself is said to be recovering, I've reserved my pity for the poor guests staying at the Wanchai Metropark Hotel - the hotel in which the Mexican invalid had been staying. According to local news, as soon as swine flu was confirmed, the government sent men dressed in white biohazard suits, masks and hats to quarantine the hotel, sealing all the staff and the hotel guests inside for seven days. 

The government has also put out an appeal for the Metropark guests (rumoured to number fifty or so) who are AWOL, to identify themselves. Presumably, they were out when the men in white arrived, and decided that going back was probably not a good idea. I'd be curious to find out how many do put their hands up, in light of the fact that their honesty will result in them being incarcerated in a potentially disease ridden hotel for a week.

In the meantime, we've been warned to avoid crowded areas. This has proved difficult - as everyone, including ourselves, has out and about enjoying the sunshine and the public holidays. Even the country parks have been packed with people. Tomorrow, we've planned another walk and a lunch out, but what we're most eagerly anticipating, is a trip to the cinema to watch the movie adaptation of Neil Gaiman's Coraline. 

A friend of mine has already started avoiding cinemas for fear of disease, but as the husband, in a fit of enthusiasm, has booked seats for the 9.40 am show, I'm guessing that it won't be too crowded anyway. I'm looking forward to it.

Anyhow, I haven't really got time to worry about swine flu, as I've been too busy panicking about falling behind on my writing... I'm taking part in the inaugural NaPiBoWriWee this week - which is short for National Picture Book Writing Week. This event challenges writers around the world to write seven complete picture books in seven days (read more about it on the blog of author Paula Yoo.)

I managed to complete the NaNoWriMo last year (where you have to write a 50,000 word novel in a month) so I thought it would be easy, but it's been tough thinking up seven engaging story ideas - as every idea that comes to mind seems to feature a pig... 

I'm going to bed now, with a notebook by my bedside, in the hopes that some inspired non-porcine idea will come to me in my dreams. Wish me luck!