Quote of the Day

"This game has gone on long enough. I propose that we elect Janny as a member of the carpet."


Quote of the week?

"With the Magic Bullet, clean up is a snap, and you don't even smell!"

Things You Sit On (alternately, things that can be flushed)

A toilet

An embarrassed person

A surprised game fowl

Yay I'm Unemployed!

There are some good things and some bad things about living the improvised life. A bad thing, for example, would be when you lie down on the couch at three because there's nothing else to do and then wake up all hot under the couch-blanket at six with lines all over your face from the pillow. On the other hand, it's kind of a warm-and-fuzzy thing when you pull black beans out of the cupboard, one remaining tortilla, some salsa and some cast-aside cheese from the fridge, and make a delicious dinner of pan-hardened cheesy chips and beans topped with salsa. Right now I'm working on making a cupful of ice cream out of some milk and a glorp of raspberry torani. Although maybe it will take a long time given the amount of milk... ice cube tray, do you think?

Project?

Always prone to the power of suggestion, I decided yesterday afternoon that I would follow an online set of directions for how to make unique and colorful Christmas gifts. Otherwise known as "doing a craft," which made up much of my young life at church. This craft, however, is completely voluntary and seems unimaginably cool to me, so it's all ok. I purchased the required materials yesterday evening, and began the process this afternoon. There are currently about six bulbous, soggy masses hanging from various parts of my house: the tv stand, the ceiling fan pull-string, the banana tree. Hopefully by tomorrow they will be finished and ready to put to use. If they turn out well, I will post pictures, I promise.

Sugar Headache

Parties are wonderful things, but I need to learn to control my intake of candies while celebrating. Particularly my intake of Sour Patch Kids, which I could refer to as the Food of the Gods.

I wish that you could live in my apartment, all of you, for a week or so each, so you could hear the neighboring sounds of our little corner of the world. We are fortunate to live on the top floor, and therefore don't get the requisite rolling-of-the-bowling-ball noises that come with downstairs living. The neighborly noises we get are much more pleasant.

Somewhere to our right lives a cat, an often despondently vocal cat, who cries piteously for attention and love. Now that we've figured out what it is, it's kind of sad but also kind of reassuring to hear: "at least he's not dead. He's got his health, and that's the most important thing."

To our left and down the hall a little ways there lives a clarinetist. A very dedicated clarinetist, who doesn't play twenty-four hours a day, but probably closer to ten than to one. At all hours of the day you can sit still and listen and hear him playing something or other. While we sometimes wonder how he can play that much without getting bored and finding something else to do, we enjoy living nearby, because it makes great background noise. Someday we will figure out which apartment he lives in, and go introduce ourselves to him. For now I will simply fall asleep to the soothing sounds of the clarinet, and thank my lucky stars we didn't move in next to a drummer.

Foux de fa fa

by Flight of the Conchords.

Because I apparently can only have a serious post at the top for a couple of hours at a time.

Feeling Thanksgiving-y

Today, in an attempt to make as much money as possible before graduating, I worked for the disability resource center on campus, helping administer finals for their students. It was humbling to see the different people coming to take tests- for some it was obvious why they needed assistance with their finals, but many others looked just like anybody else on campus, and I wondered how many difficulties the people around me have that I have no idea of.

I helped a girl with a final for a class I'd taken last semester, reading the questions aloud to her and then taking down the answers she dictated to me. She was very nice, and I don't know exactly what her situation was, but it was a little heartbreaking to read the question to her and look and see that the point of the question was lost on her. Simple strategies that I use, like skipping over extraneous words to get at the basic question that is being asked, seemed to be impossible for her to grasp. I wanted to put my arm around her and parse each of the sentences so she could understand what question she was meant to answer, because I could tell from the things she said that the information was floating around in there. She just couldn't figure out what information to give me to write down. The fact that I had taken that exact class, with that exact professor, so recently made it that much worse. I felt myself biting back answers to the questions; I wanted to remind her of readings that would help her, or tell her, yes, you're on the right track. But all I was there to do for her was read and write.

Is this what it is like for people? Are there many people who have this struggle on a regular basis? I never realized how hard these things could be, these things that come so easily to me. I feel guilty for never having appreciated how easy my life has been up to this point. This afternoon was definitely the hardest thing I've done for a long time. I don't know whether I could do that again if I wanted to.

That's when I learned that there are two versions of that song, and one of them you don't want played at your wedding.

There's just something about having wonderful people, rich and famous people, telling you about their shortcomings and mistakes. It's comforting and a little gratifying to know that they're just people, too, even though they do play a mean 12-string guitar.

One More Thing

Ha! You thought I was done with my Christmas listing. But you were wrong.

Yesterday as I was running around a lot in the drizzly rain, I thought to myself, "you know what would be great to have? Like, some sort of cross between a pretty shawl and a poncho, just a short one that goes to mid-back, so when it's rainy I can have a little covering, that if I'm carrying papers I can hide their tops under it, and maybe it would have two really big buttons to one side. I think it would be some dark color like black or brown, and made of material- not knitted yarn. Something sleek and dignified."

I don't know if such a thing even exists, but I was thinking about it yesterday. You know what? Maybe I shouldn't ask for this. I probably wouldn't wear it much, except maybe if it was more of a long shawl I could wear it to church where it gets cold and it could be nice to wrap myself and my arms in it. But if it was more like a shawl, that would make it less useful for in the rain... Except it doesn't usually rain all that much here...

Ok. I want a nice shawl, made of material, a nice black or brown or other neutral color to wear to church, and maybe when it's raining too.

Storytime

Ah, Christmas. The time of memories. Of family. Of precious tokens of love.

Remember that time a few years ago when I was working for Taco Bell? Remember how at Christmas they have a tiny tree on the counter that everyone brings an ornament for? Remember how I wanted to bring one with my name on it, so I brought my very favorite one, a faded pink ball that my great-grandmother had hand-painted my name on when I was born? How on Christmas Eve, after the work party, I was closing the store with my manager and decided to take down my ornament to keep it safe in my car, and how at that moment it slipped from my hands, and I was bitterly crying before it even hit the ground because there was nothing I could do? Do you remember me crying in the Taco Bell bathroom on Christmas Eve for a quarter of an hour over a shattered piece of glass, while my manager swept up the shards?

I do.

Feverishly Tired

Ok, aside from it now being three days of rain (apocalypse on its way, maybe?), I'm so glad that Saturday is over. Generally, Saturday is my best friend, but when early morning wake-up times are paired with evening-time boring musical performances, I know it's going to be tough on me. My only condolence for today was the promise of waking up at the sinfully late hour of nine o'clock tomorrow.

I know, I'm so bad.

Meteorological Bliss

It's amazing how surprising it is to have two days, two whole days! of overcastness and rain. Is that even legal? Are we allowed to have that much pleasantness in such a short period of time?

Today as I walked from my last class of the day to home, I decided to really take advantage of the rain and take my shoes off. Seems like everyone was enjoying themselves- as I walked around a corner I got a distinct whiff of pot and saw some guy loping off down the alley behind a sorority. Lots of people that I passed on the street looked up and smiled, said hi conspiratorially, as if we were all in on some secret. A secret about the weather!