Saturday, June 30, 2007


Rather than explaining the coolness of this picture, and giving a witty monologue about the summer solstice festival where we saw the alien-giraffe people, I will simply let it stand as a monument to that day. The picture will also stand as a monument to my frustration at not having a simple, useful Photoshop-like application in my computer. You have no idea how long it took me just to crop the blonde lady's head out of the picture.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007


Our couch suddenly smells like B.O. It isn't really bad or really strong, but every once in a while a hint of B.O. wafts its way up to my nose. This isn't a huge problem for me because it is one of the commonly agreed-upon bad smells that I am very tolerant of, but I'm not sure how the rest of the household is going to react. For the past hour since I first noticed it, I've been going over in my mind who has recently sat here, and I've not come to any conclusion. The only people who have used the couch in the past 24 hours are people who I'm familiar with, and who have used the couch before without incident. This leads me to believe that either some person was having an uncharacteristically smelly day, or we have the ghost of a hobo haunting our living room, lying on our couch and eating beans out of a can.

That would explain why we have so much trouble with the can openers in our house.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

For Rent

I've become a jealous home-renter. Although we plan on moving somewhere smaller in August due to a general lack of roommates, I feel very angry and defensive whenever a car slows down in front of our For Rent sign to take down the information. This is *my* house! *I* live here! I'm Not Gone Yet!

Sunday, June 17, 2007

On the Rez

Invited to the reservation by a friend working there for Americorps, we headed out in search of adventure and excitement. We found there:

--a couple sitting by the side of the road, selling $8 watermelons out of the back of their truck. Excited by the idea of purchasing fresh fruit, we pull over. "These look good. Where do they come from?" The man looks at the crate in the truck, turns to us and says flatly, "Texas."

--a skinny horse and its skinny foal. We drove past them on the road, where they were roaming freely in search of weeds big enough to eat. In fact, we drove past them at least three times, as the map we were given was very much not to scale and labeled poorly.

--the cultural center, finally. It ended up not being in the town we thought it was in originally, which caused great confusion. Once we parked and walked in, most of the celebratory activity was over. However, they still let us into the museum and gave us paper fans, programs, and cheap plastic visors for coming. We looked at some nice (contemporary) art by the people of the nation, and watched a half-hour long video on traditional basketweaving, filmed at least fifty years ago. It felt odd- watching this movie with a bunch of people from the tribe, while the narrator calls them "indians" and uses a tribe name that they no longer associate themselves with. I wasn't sure whether to criticize the old movie, or be respectful of it since they were showing it at their cultural center.

The drive home was somewhat more squashy and uncomfortable, as we added two watermelons to the five people already in the car, but the conversation was sparkling and dinner at a Mexican food stand on the South side of town was excellent.

Sunday, June 3, 2007

My morning dialogue with my hair

Me: Hair, be straight.

My hair: No thanks.

Me: Hair, be straight. I will turn up my straightener to eleven.

My hair: I prefer to be snarly.

Me: How about if I put some hair goop in?

My hair: How about if I turn into a triangle? I can do that real good.

Me: Please, hair! I beg you, be straight!

My hair: What's in it for me?

Me: I'll put more hair goop in and run my fingers through you! I will love you forever!

My hair: Are you sure you don't want one side wavy and the other side stringy?

Me: Yeah, I'm sure.

My hair: How about this: I'll pretend to be straight now, but throughout the day I will gradually poof into a triangle again.

Me: I'll take it!