Well, I haven't blogged in a couple days -- Blogger was acting wierd, but also, I haven't had a computer at work. So all my e-mail checking, blog reading, etc. has to be done at home, so once I'm done I'm kind of not into spending any more time on line.
But some updates: it looks like the flooring project is going ahead for Sunday. I'm not sure whether Monkeygirl's friend (with the mad flooring experience) is going to make it for sure, but at the very least, we can tear up the carpet, lay out the planks, cut some pieces (Dad's bringing the saw over and showing me how to use it), and probably get it done ourselves even if she can't make it. We still need a few things, like the spacers, but we can get those anytime.
I've still been going to the gym really regularly. My ballet teacher took the week off, so I've been at the gym every day. I have run into Mom for like three nights in a row. I didn't run in to her tonight, but interestingly, I found her bookmark on the floor next to my locker, so Hi Mom, I've got your bookmark!
I'm starting to feel like I have more stamina for things like riding the bike, and as though I'm gaining strength with the weight stuff, but I'm not noticing a lot of visual bodily changes, if you know what I mean.
School has been okay this week. With Springtime always comes some goofiness, and 7th period today was a great example. I'm also still quite troubled by the fact that before the move I was assured I'd have a working computer. On Monday, I didn't have one, but I was told they thought it would be done by the next day. Guess what? Tomorrow's Friday and I haven't heard another word about it. I wouldn't care much if it was just work e-mail (I can check that from home or the library), but it's also my grading program, which I can't get to from another computer, and my grades are due in exactly two weeks.
I guess that's about it. I'm looking forward to the weekend.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Back to work
Well, I moved into my new classroom. The estimate right now is that I'll be in there about a month before I have to re-pack everything and move back into my old room. Today was a little trying because I found that everything I had so carefully labelled and stacked into piles of "surplus" "storage" and "room 6" were all there, happily stacked together against the wall. I took all the surplus ones and literally threw them out the door. Then I discovered that the rooms weren't wired for the internet, so I couldn't get onto my computer at all, since everything is run off the school's server. Then I had trouble figuring out the thermostat, but I finally got it. Anyway, now I am mostly unpacked (although not completly by any means).
Other than that, today was pretty normal. Easter was nice yesterday. Dinner was good (hey, if I get scalloped potatoes at all I'm happy, but I think they were extra good, too), then my aunt brought this crazy mousse cake. She was describing it like "it's chocolate cake with chocolate mousse and a chocolate frosting and chocolate chocolate chocolate . . . " (that's what I heard, anyway). It was divine. I've been so good lately about eating my sweets in moderation that I don't think I've had seconds of something like that in ages, but I had another little slice. Mmmm.
Tonight I'm going to the gym (what's new?) and working on the Cold Six Thousand. Yes, I'm still reading it.
Oh, and the guy from Gallery Horse Cow came out to the house yesterday to hear my band's "side project" and it seemed like he really liked us and wants us to play. Hmph. I mean, I guess it's good news, but I am surprised. It would be like if I suddenly started playing country music and people were like "Whoo! We love Mockula Jean!" "But . . . " I would stutter "but I was just kidding! I don't even like country! How could I make music that you like that I don't?" Well, whatever. I'll be happy to play any side project gigs we get, although the Gynas' music is my real passion and the music that allows me to have the most fun. Our new, not funny, more rocking songs got very good reception at Friday's show, too. I'm happy to see us going in that direction.
Other than that, today was pretty normal. Easter was nice yesterday. Dinner was good (hey, if I get scalloped potatoes at all I'm happy, but I think they were extra good, too), then my aunt brought this crazy mousse cake. She was describing it like "it's chocolate cake with chocolate mousse and a chocolate frosting and chocolate chocolate chocolate . . . " (that's what I heard, anyway). It was divine. I've been so good lately about eating my sweets in moderation that I don't think I've had seconds of something like that in ages, but I had another little slice. Mmmm.
Tonight I'm going to the gym (what's new?) and working on the Cold Six Thousand. Yes, I'm still reading it.
Oh, and the guy from Gallery Horse Cow came out to the house yesterday to hear my band's "side project" and it seemed like he really liked us and wants us to play. Hmph. I mean, I guess it's good news, but I am surprised. It would be like if I suddenly started playing country music and people were like "Whoo! We love Mockula Jean!" "But . . . " I would stutter "but I was just kidding! I don't even like country! How could I make music that you like that I don't?" Well, whatever. I'll be happy to play any side project gigs we get, although the Gynas' music is my real passion and the music that allows me to have the most fun. Our new, not funny, more rocking songs got very good reception at Friday's show, too. I'm happy to see us going in that direction.
Monday, March 28, 2005
Odd day
Well, I moved into my new classroom. The estimate right now is that I'll be in there about a month before I have to re-pack everything and move back into my old room. Today was a little trying because I found that everything I had so carefully labelled and stacked into piles of "surplus" "storage" and "room 6" were all there, happily stacked together against the wall. I took all the surplus ones and literally threw them out the door. Then I discovered that the rooms weren't wired for the internet, so I couldn't get onto my computer at all, since everything is run off the school's server. Then I had trouble figuring out the thermostat, but I finally got it. Anyway, now I am mostly unpacked (although not completly by any means).
Other than that, today was pretty normal. Easter was nice yesterday. Dinner was good (hey, if I get scalloped potatoes at all I'm happy, but I think they were extra good, too), then my aunt brought this crazy mousse cake. She was describing it like "it's chocolate cake with chocolate mousse and a chocolate frosting and chocolate chocolate chocolate . . . " (that's what I heard, anyway). It was divine. I've been so good lately about eating my sweets in moderation that I don't think I've had seconds of something like that in ages, but I had another little slice. Mmmm.
Tonight I'm going to the gym (what's new?) and working on the Cold Six Thousand. Yes, I'm still reading it.
Oh, and the guy from Gallery Horse Cow came out to the house yesterday to hear my band's "side project" and it seemed like he really liked us and wants us to play. Hmph. I mean, I guess it's good news, but I am surprised. It would be like if I suddenly started playing country music and people were like "Whoo! We love Mockula Jean!" "But . . . " I would stutter "but I was just kidding! I don't even like country! How could I make music that you like that I don't?" Well, whatever. I'll be happy to play any side project gigs we get, although the Gynas' music is my real passion and the music that allows me to have the most fun. Our new, not funny, more rocking songs got very good reception at Friday's show, too. I'm happy to see us going in that direction.
Other than that, today was pretty normal. Easter was nice yesterday. Dinner was good (hey, if I get scalloped potatoes at all I'm happy, but I think they were extra good, too), then my aunt brought this crazy mousse cake. She was describing it like "it's chocolate cake with chocolate mousse and a chocolate frosting and chocolate chocolate chocolate . . . " (that's what I heard, anyway). It was divine. I've been so good lately about eating my sweets in moderation that I don't think I've had seconds of something like that in ages, but I had another little slice. Mmmm.
Tonight I'm going to the gym (what's new?) and working on the Cold Six Thousand. Yes, I'm still reading it.
Oh, and the guy from Gallery Horse Cow came out to the house yesterday to hear my band's "side project" and it seemed like he really liked us and wants us to play. Hmph. I mean, I guess it's good news, but I am surprised. It would be like if I suddenly started playing country music and people were like "Whoo! We love Mockula Jean!" "But . . . " I would stutter "but I was just kidding! I don't even like country! How could I make music that you like that I don't?" Well, whatever. I'll be happy to play any side project gigs we get, although the Gynas' music is my real passion and the music that allows me to have the most fun. Our new, not funny, more rocking songs got very good reception at Friday's show, too. I'm happy to see us going in that direction.
Saturday, March 26, 2005
End of Spring Break
Well, the week went by faster and was busier than I really expected. I told you about getting the flooring, so I believe I left off just before Monkeylunch on Thursday. We went to Ethiopian food, and I don't think she liked it as much as I hoped, but next time I'll know and we'll go someplace else. We had a nice talk and a good time. That evening I went to see the Sacramento Ballet perform The Firebird, Serenade, and Stars and Stripes. They were all good, and very different. Stars and Stripes was the last one, and I liked it least, mostly because I'm not crazy about Sousa's marches. But the dancing was great, and it was a good showcase for some of the male dancers, who were doing these amazing turns and jumps. Seriously, even the small-looking things must take incredible skill. I am master of the changement (start with your right foot crossed in front of your left, jump up, and when you land have your right foot in back, just basically changing feet in the air). It gets harder with the battu, where your foot changes twice in the air. These guys were doing quadruples. See if you can jump up in the air and stay aloft for long enough to switch which leg is in front four times. Crazy. I liked the Firebird, but as the review in today's paper said, it was almost too condensed to really get into the story of it. But the dancing was great, the costumes were beautiful, and the costumes were really lovely. My favorite, though, was the Balanchine ballet "Serenade." It was apparently the world's first "plotless" ballet, meaning no story, no discernible relationships . . . It was just all about the movement, the music. The dancers moved in groups, in pairs, in trios, sometimes in perfect sync, sometimes with one group of dancers doing a move just before another group would do the same. It was just simple and beautiful -- dancers in white against a luminous blue background.
Friday morning I had a hair appointment (oh yeah, I guess I did post that much). I'm still happy with it. Anyway, then I came home and sweetie was taking a nap (he doesn't feel well this weekend), so we didn't go see the Imax movie that I'm not entirely convinced he wants to see anyway, although he says he does. We basically just bummed around the house, then went to the game store, to Malouf's, and then to Borders. I found a great new kids' book for my cousin called "Knuffle Bunny." Then we came home, where drummergirl was already here tidying up what we call the Gyna cave, our practice space. We practiced and came up with a LONG setlist (we thought we were the only band playing), then packced up the car and left. At the bar, we found that through some miscommunication, we were supposed to have been there like an hour and a half earlier. So they had called the man I will call Jeff Healy Jr. He performs what he calls "guitar karaoke." That is, he has backing tracks he plays through a PA of drums, bass, etc. of famous songs, and he plays guitar along with the tracks. Dude, I cannot use his real name, not because it would be wrong, but because I am 100% certain that he Googles himself every few days. Apparently, there is some controversy on our local Craigslist as to whether he is a good guitar player or not. My opinion? Sure, he's good, but write some original songs and get a band, dude. Guitar karaoke is NOT the wave of the future. I call him Jeff Healy Jr. not because he is actually blind, but he does wear dark sunglasses on stage and seems disconcertingly unaware of his facial expressions -- to wit, he does that "wooeeoowoww" mouth that you do when air-guitaring to indicate the screeching guitar sounds. He was also VERY excited to be playing, it seemed, and asked us to wrap it up after maybe 45 minutes, saying "You guys have been on for over an hour." Apparently, he has a three hour set and it was during his, like, intermission that we played. Yeah.
Other interesting notes from last night's show were my "new stalker" as she was called three times by three different people. She just liked the music, I think, but she kept sidling up to me between songs and asking questions in my ear. My answers clearly pleased her, because then she would offer up her hand for a high five. Like "You're all 29? High five!" Also, we were again playing to the audience that we most frequently make fun of in songs like "White Trash Whore" and "K.O.S. (the Mullet Song)". With that in mind, our friends were all scanning the room for us looking for acid-washed jeans, mullets, and Stryper t-shirts. Apparently, some of our friends were also scanning for impromptu weaponry in case of a full-out brawl. We weren't nervous, though -- we'd played this crowd before, and as drummergirl said earlier, they seem to think "Hey, they're singin' about us. Rock on!"
Today I cleaned up the house a bit, had band practice for our possible new side project, then I went to the park for my cousin's birthday party. Afterwards I went to the gym, then went to sushi with sweetie. Tonight I think we get to work on some ideas for my game -- that's right, I can't tell you about it because Mattel or somebody might rip me off, but I think I have an idea for a cool new board game. We're going to "conceptualize" tonight.
Tomorrow's Easter, and Sweetie and I are going to Mom's. Before that, some gallery owner is supposed to come over and hear us practice the side project music. Then it's back to school. Sigh.
Friday morning I had a hair appointment (oh yeah, I guess I did post that much). I'm still happy with it. Anyway, then I came home and sweetie was taking a nap (he doesn't feel well this weekend), so we didn't go see the Imax movie that I'm not entirely convinced he wants to see anyway, although he says he does. We basically just bummed around the house, then went to the game store, to Malouf's, and then to Borders. I found a great new kids' book for my cousin called "Knuffle Bunny." Then we came home, where drummergirl was already here tidying up what we call the Gyna cave, our practice space. We practiced and came up with a LONG setlist (we thought we were the only band playing), then packced up the car and left. At the bar, we found that through some miscommunication, we were supposed to have been there like an hour and a half earlier. So they had called the man I will call Jeff Healy Jr. He performs what he calls "guitar karaoke." That is, he has backing tracks he plays through a PA of drums, bass, etc. of famous songs, and he plays guitar along with the tracks. Dude, I cannot use his real name, not because it would be wrong, but because I am 100% certain that he Googles himself every few days. Apparently, there is some controversy on our local Craigslist as to whether he is a good guitar player or not. My opinion? Sure, he's good, but write some original songs and get a band, dude. Guitar karaoke is NOT the wave of the future. I call him Jeff Healy Jr. not because he is actually blind, but he does wear dark sunglasses on stage and seems disconcertingly unaware of his facial expressions -- to wit, he does that "wooeeoowoww" mouth that you do when air-guitaring to indicate the screeching guitar sounds. He was also VERY excited to be playing, it seemed, and asked us to wrap it up after maybe 45 minutes, saying "You guys have been on for over an hour." Apparently, he has a three hour set and it was during his, like, intermission that we played. Yeah.
Other interesting notes from last night's show were my "new stalker" as she was called three times by three different people. She just liked the music, I think, but she kept sidling up to me between songs and asking questions in my ear. My answers clearly pleased her, because then she would offer up her hand for a high five. Like "You're all 29? High five!" Also, we were again playing to the audience that we most frequently make fun of in songs like "White Trash Whore" and "K.O.S. (the Mullet Song)". With that in mind, our friends were all scanning the room for us looking for acid-washed jeans, mullets, and Stryper t-shirts. Apparently, some of our friends were also scanning for impromptu weaponry in case of a full-out brawl. We weren't nervous, though -- we'd played this crowd before, and as drummergirl said earlier, they seem to think "Hey, they're singin' about us. Rock on!"
Today I cleaned up the house a bit, had band practice for our possible new side project, then I went to the park for my cousin's birthday party. Afterwards I went to the gym, then went to sushi with sweetie. Tonight I think we get to work on some ideas for my game -- that's right, I can't tell you about it because Mattel or somebody might rip me off, but I think I have an idea for a cool new board game. We're going to "conceptualize" tonight.
Tomorrow's Easter, and Sweetie and I are going to Mom's. Before that, some gallery owner is supposed to come over and hear us practice the side project music. Then it's back to school. Sigh.
Friday, March 25, 2005
Do I love my new hairstylist?
Yes I do. Sadly, it was nearly a 5 hour haircut, but that's partly because I have ungodly thick hair and needed a full highlight/lowlight deal, not just a touchup. It took about two thousand pieces of foil. But it looks GOOD and Monique was really nice. Yay!
Thursday, March 24, 2005
I am the proud owner
of 48 cartons of Mohawk brand Seneca style Cherry Plank laminate flooring. I can't wait to get installing, but it might be a while, since Spring Break is almost over and it's going to be a pretty big project whether I do it in small portions or not. My sweetie keeps telling me I need to do something FUN with my spring break -- well, I've painted the fireplace, sat in a coffee shop and written letters, read a couple magazines and part of my book, bought flooring, browsed at Pier One and Cost Plus, gone to the gym and ballet, made ice cream and dyed hard boiled eggs . . . as far as I'm concerned this beats the hell out of sitting in a classroom trying to make sure a bunch of surly 13 year olds aren't sticking gum into the pages of classic books or writing "Mis Mokoola iz a beeyatch" on the desktops. I really need to work on their spelling . . .
Anyway, yesterday I got to eat lunch with my sweetie, and today I get to eat lunch with Monkeygirl, so I should probably hop in the shower, because I just finished unloading half of those 48 cartons off Dad's truck and into the house. Pee-yuu.
Anyway, yesterday I got to eat lunch with my sweetie, and today I get to eat lunch with Monkeygirl, so I should probably hop in the shower, because I just finished unloading half of those 48 cartons off Dad's truck and into the house. Pee-yuu.
I'm a survivor, I'm not gon' give up! (Thanks Destiny's Child)
| Official Survivor Congratulations! You scored 70%! |
| Whether through ferocity or quickness, you made it out. You made the right choice most of the time, but you probably screwed up somewhere. Nobody's perfect, at least you're alive. |
 |
| My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender :
|
| Link: The Zombie Scenario Survivor Test written by ci8db4uok on Ok Cupid |
Huh, so I guess despite my sleeping naked (and therefore not being prepared in case of middle of the night attacks), I'm as likely to survive a zombie attack as my sweetie! We'll be together in the end times, looting and sitting on our roof with shotguns. How romantic . . .
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Terri Schiavo -- here I go.
1. When you marry, your spouse makes medical decisions for you if you are incapacitated. Not your parents, not your second cousin, and not Congress. It doesn't matter that some people say theirs wasn't the happiest of marriages. If she didn't want him making her medical decisions, she could have created some kind of living will or just divorced him.
2. Persistent vegetative state doesn't mean "could wake up tomorrow." She's dead. Her heart is just still beating. There's no waking up. I'm sorry for her parents. I hope I never lose a child in this way, and I imagine it would be beyond devastating. But she's been dead for fifteen years, and this is one of the biggest examples of denial I've ever seen.
3. Letting Terri Schiavo die with dignity will not lead to the "slippery slope" of murder of all disabled people, as many letter writers to my local paper seem to think. Getting around in a wheelchair or having Down's Syndrome is not the same as having no brain activity and no chance of ever having any. (And a side note, for all the letter writers who keep talking about this "slippery slope," that term is specifically to denote BAD, FAULTY logic. If you use it, it's like you're announcing that you're using bad logic. It's like saying "My nincompoop reasoning tells me that this is true.")
4. I thought Republicans were about smaller government and staying out of people's personal lives, giving them more freedom to make their own decisions. So we're calling for Congresspeople and the president to come back from their vacations to make a medical decision for one woman? (And listen, I know that whole "smaller government, more personal freedom" thing is a load of crap on a lot of fronts right now.)
5. Calling Michael Schiavo an adulterer is a bit of a stretch. Why don't we let he who is without sin . . . yadda yadda. The man's wife has been basically dead for fifteen years, and you're going to begrudge him finding love again?
6. I know there's no way for any of us to know exactly what her wishes were and to whom she expressed them. It's basically her husband's word against her parents'. So here's why I believe her husband: if he didn't feel so strongly about the issue, he could have divorced her and handed over control to her parents long ago. Instead, he continues to fight for her right to die with dignity. Why would he make, literally, a federal case out of it if he didn't have strong feelings about the issue? He's been offered millions of dollars to just give up. And if he were divorced, he could marry his girlfriend and be out of this mess. So why doesn't he? For the same reason that the love of my life would fight to fulfill my wishes, I bet -- a lingering love and respect for me.
7. If the Republicans and the religious right who are making an issue out of this have so much respect for human life, they sure as shit had better start calling for an end to the war, expanded numbers of beds at homeless shelters (the indigent die every night out in the freezing cold), an end to the death penalty, funding for stem cell research, AIDS research and prevention programs around the world, gun control (another nine dead in Minnesota today because of a 15 year old who got access to three guns) . . . could I go on? You bet I could.
8. If these people are so religious, why wasn't her medical condition an act of God? Why are they prolonging her life, apparently against God's will? Why wouldn't they want their daughter to go and join God in heaven? Why keep her here in limbo? I'm not being sarcastic, I really don't understand. If you believe in a soul, you have to believe that hers is trapped and would be better off if set free.
9. This needs to be kept separate from the abortion debate. Letting an adult die whose body has given up is entirely different from preventing a life from forming from a bundle of cells. I don't believe they can be equated at all.
10. Finally, I know it is hard to let someone go. My uncle and my grandfather were both on life support before their deaths, and in both cases the doctors said their lives had effectively ended, and there was no chance that they would be coming back. I'm not the one who had to make the decision to remove life support in either case (thank goodness) but the decision to do so in both cases was the right one. Of COURSE it's hard to lose someone you love. That goes without saying. But it would be a kindness to let her go.
Hey Terri, I hope this doesn't come off the wrong way, but my prayers are with you too -- that you slip off peacefully before they can get a chance to shove another tube down your throat.
2. Persistent vegetative state doesn't mean "could wake up tomorrow." She's dead. Her heart is just still beating. There's no waking up. I'm sorry for her parents. I hope I never lose a child in this way, and I imagine it would be beyond devastating. But she's been dead for fifteen years, and this is one of the biggest examples of denial I've ever seen.
3. Letting Terri Schiavo die with dignity will not lead to the "slippery slope" of murder of all disabled people, as many letter writers to my local paper seem to think. Getting around in a wheelchair or having Down's Syndrome is not the same as having no brain activity and no chance of ever having any. (And a side note, for all the letter writers who keep talking about this "slippery slope," that term is specifically to denote BAD, FAULTY logic. If you use it, it's like you're announcing that you're using bad logic. It's like saying "My nincompoop reasoning tells me that this is true.")
4. I thought Republicans were about smaller government and staying out of people's personal lives, giving them more freedom to make their own decisions. So we're calling for Congresspeople and the president to come back from their vacations to make a medical decision for one woman? (And listen, I know that whole "smaller government, more personal freedom" thing is a load of crap on a lot of fronts right now.)
5. Calling Michael Schiavo an adulterer is a bit of a stretch. Why don't we let he who is without sin . . . yadda yadda. The man's wife has been basically dead for fifteen years, and you're going to begrudge him finding love again?
6. I know there's no way for any of us to know exactly what her wishes were and to whom she expressed them. It's basically her husband's word against her parents'. So here's why I believe her husband: if he didn't feel so strongly about the issue, he could have divorced her and handed over control to her parents long ago. Instead, he continues to fight for her right to die with dignity. Why would he make, literally, a federal case out of it if he didn't have strong feelings about the issue? He's been offered millions of dollars to just give up. And if he were divorced, he could marry his girlfriend and be out of this mess. So why doesn't he? For the same reason that the love of my life would fight to fulfill my wishes, I bet -- a lingering love and respect for me.
7. If the Republicans and the religious right who are making an issue out of this have so much respect for human life, they sure as shit had better start calling for an end to the war, expanded numbers of beds at homeless shelters (the indigent die every night out in the freezing cold), an end to the death penalty, funding for stem cell research, AIDS research and prevention programs around the world, gun control (another nine dead in Minnesota today because of a 15 year old who got access to three guns) . . . could I go on? You bet I could.
8. If these people are so religious, why wasn't her medical condition an act of God? Why are they prolonging her life, apparently against God's will? Why wouldn't they want their daughter to go and join God in heaven? Why keep her here in limbo? I'm not being sarcastic, I really don't understand. If you believe in a soul, you have to believe that hers is trapped and would be better off if set free.
9. This needs to be kept separate from the abortion debate. Letting an adult die whose body has given up is entirely different from preventing a life from forming from a bundle of cells. I don't believe they can be equated at all.
10. Finally, I know it is hard to let someone go. My uncle and my grandfather were both on life support before their deaths, and in both cases the doctors said their lives had effectively ended, and there was no chance that they would be coming back. I'm not the one who had to make the decision to remove life support in either case (thank goodness) but the decision to do so in both cases was the right one. Of COURSE it's hard to lose someone you love. That goes without saying. But it would be a kindness to let her go.
Hey Terri, I hope this doesn't come off the wrong way, but my prayers are with you too -- that you slip off peacefully before they can get a chance to shove another tube down your throat.
Monday, March 21, 2005
Book notes
The following are all direct quotes from James Ellroy's "The Cold Six Thousand."
YOU the ofay exploiter.
Pete glommed sixty five-spots.
He bought sixty short dogs. He grabbed his sap and drove to West Vegas.
The man spritzed on Vegas and dope.
Shit cars ubiquitous -- ad hoc housing.
The n------ vibed stupe.
His socks bipped and buzzed.
It messed up his conk good.
My plan is a shuck.
They took liberties -- like they all fucked leprechauns in Hyannis.
Glut. Waste. Bullshit. The hotel copped pleas.
He made the suit.
The walls torqued him back.
Some geek sold dupes.
He smelled cordite.
He double-clutched.
A Chevy 409 -- lake pipes and slicks -- Stemmons freeway faaaast.
Wayne fugued on out.
Now, I'm not saying I am not enjoying the book. I am. But sweetie, who lent it to me, insists that the combination of the writing style (a lot of Subject-Verb sentences: "Pete walked.") and the slang (geeks, conk, spritzed . . .) does not make it at all difficult to slog through. I, however, find that those, along with the rather large number of characters to keep track of (Wendell Durfee, Pete Bondurant, Ward Littell, Guy Bannister, Arden Smith, Barb Jahelka, Maynard Moore, Wayne Tedrow Jr. and Sr. are among the main characters, never mind all the figures from real life, like the mobsters, Jack Ruby, Hoover, the Kennedys, the CIA and FBI affiliated characters, various police officers in Dallas and Vegas, Howard Hughes, and all the "wits," "geeks," "spooks," and various other personnel. There are literally at least 50 names that have already appeared in the book, and I'm only on page 91. Now some of the quotes above made more sense in context. Others could be ignored because they seemed unimportant -- like the "lake pipes and slicks" thing -- must be car accessories. But am I just stupid or can someone validate me that these are not totally transparent and readily understandable? I feel like I'm reading in Portugese.
Okay, I actually have a lot to say on current events, but I kind of hurt my back earlier, so in order not to get all stressed out and in order to get the damn computer off my lap, I'm going to skip it for now. Bye all!
YOU the ofay exploiter.
Pete glommed sixty five-spots.
He bought sixty short dogs. He grabbed his sap and drove to West Vegas.
The man spritzed on Vegas and dope.
Shit cars ubiquitous -- ad hoc housing.
The n------ vibed stupe.
His socks bipped and buzzed.
It messed up his conk good.
My plan is a shuck.
They took liberties -- like they all fucked leprechauns in Hyannis.
Glut. Waste. Bullshit. The hotel copped pleas.
He made the suit.
The walls torqued him back.
Some geek sold dupes.
He smelled cordite.
He double-clutched.
A Chevy 409 -- lake pipes and slicks -- Stemmons freeway faaaast.
Wayne fugued on out.
Now, I'm not saying I am not enjoying the book. I am. But sweetie, who lent it to me, insists that the combination of the writing style (a lot of Subject-Verb sentences: "Pete walked.") and the slang (geeks, conk, spritzed . . .) does not make it at all difficult to slog through. I, however, find that those, along with the rather large number of characters to keep track of (Wendell Durfee, Pete Bondurant, Ward Littell, Guy Bannister, Arden Smith, Barb Jahelka, Maynard Moore, Wayne Tedrow Jr. and Sr. are among the main characters, never mind all the figures from real life, like the mobsters, Jack Ruby, Hoover, the Kennedys, the CIA and FBI affiliated characters, various police officers in Dallas and Vegas, Howard Hughes, and all the "wits," "geeks," "spooks," and various other personnel. There are literally at least 50 names that have already appeared in the book, and I'm only on page 91. Now some of the quotes above made more sense in context. Others could be ignored because they seemed unimportant -- like the "lake pipes and slicks" thing -- must be car accessories. But am I just stupid or can someone validate me that these are not totally transparent and readily understandable? I feel like I'm reading in Portugese.
Okay, I actually have a lot to say on current events, but I kind of hurt my back earlier, so in order not to get all stressed out and in order to get the damn computer off my lap, I'm going to skip it for now. Bye all!
Okay, here's the after.
I got done and I'm thrilled with how it looks. It looks WHITE now, whereas before it was an off-white with a strange pink undertone. Like, you've all seen nicotine-stained walls, right? Imagine if nicotine were pink. That's what it was before. Yep, I'm just gettin' one thing done after another. Hopefully when we have some Portlandian visitors next month I'll have gotten even more painting done.
Um, does this work?
Anyway, I was painting, and I wanted to respond online to a friend who mocks me for being excited about white. Hey, first of all, it's "Almond Sugar," and second of all, see it against the previous "white?" Big difference, huh?
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Not feeling bad, but . . .
not feeling good, either. I'm really exhausted from packing 20 boxes of textbooks today, as well as heaving them across the room and climbing up on things to take all my posters down. Plus the dust has really aggravated my allergies.
My reading thing is in less than two hours. I should probably take a shower to get the dust and pollen off me. I don't have any makeup left anyway, since I've been pushing on my eyeballs in the hopes that would help with something. That's about all for now. I'm going to update Count Broccula in a minute, so check that out, too.
My reading thing is in less than two hours. I should probably take a shower to get the dust and pollen off me. I don't have any makeup left anyway, since I've been pushing on my eyeballs in the hopes that would help with something. That's about all for now. I'm going to update Count Broccula in a minute, so check that out, too.
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Arachnophobia, unrelated nervousness, other generalities.
We've been watching some National Geographic programming lately, and saw a really funny program on spiders this weekend. Well, unintentionally funny. See, it would start talking about some scary-ass spider, like one that has prehensile fangs or something. Then they'd talk about another one with instant 300-cows-dead-with-one-lick venom. Then it would talk about one that would seem to plan and hunt. Okay, all scary enough, right? But then they'd give you some crazy future hypothetical like (imagine scary movie trailer guy voice) "BUT WHAT IF THESE SPIDERS EVOLVED INTO ONE ANOTHER AND ALL HAD PREHENSILE FANGS, NUCLEAR VENOM, AND THE ABILITY TO PLAN?!?!?!??!" Okay, and how long do I have to wait for this evolution to take place so I can be scared?
I'm a little nervous about tomorrow night's reading. Nothing major, I only have to read for 20 minutes. But since I don't think anybody but my mom is coming (Mom, you're still coming, right?), it'll be a room full of strangers. Which is okay in its own way, because I could have my dress tucked into my panties and never see any of these people again, you know? Still, it's like people are coming because they think I'm somebody. My name was on the schedule in bold print and everything. So I'm a little worried that people are going to be like "Aw, geez, its just some young punk writing about her daddy issues. And I paid for parking!" Actually, I think the parking's free for events tomorrow.
I guess there isn't much else to say. Not much goin' on tonight. I thought about going to two ballet classes tonight since I'm missing two classes tomorrow, but I forgot and accidentally wore my leotard of suffocating temperatures.
Now I have GOT to go do something about my raggedy fingernails.
I'm a little nervous about tomorrow night's reading. Nothing major, I only have to read for 20 minutes. But since I don't think anybody but my mom is coming (Mom, you're still coming, right?), it'll be a room full of strangers. Which is okay in its own way, because I could have my dress tucked into my panties and never see any of these people again, you know? Still, it's like people are coming because they think I'm somebody. My name was on the schedule in bold print and everything. So I'm a little worried that people are going to be like "Aw, geez, its just some young punk writing about her daddy issues. And I paid for parking!" Actually, I think the parking's free for events tomorrow.
I guess there isn't much else to say. Not much goin' on tonight. I thought about going to two ballet classes tonight since I'm missing two classes tomorrow, but I forgot and accidentally wore my leotard of suffocating temperatures.
Now I have GOT to go do something about my raggedy fingernails.
Monday, March 14, 2005
493!
Ha! I just googled "blogger ate my post" and it came up 493 times. Well, there's an answer to that question.
I wonder how many times
"blogger ate my post" has appeared on various blogs around here? Anyway, I did write one earlier, but yes, it was consumed.
Basically, it went as follows:
Go see Bride and Prejudice. It was very enjoyable, incredibly colorful, the musical numbers were energetic and funny, and the lead actress is probably one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. Honestly, I don't think I've ever seen an American movie as colorful if it wasn't meant for kids.
I don't know how I'm ever going to move classrooms if I DON'T GET SOME DAMN BOXES.
Merit pay for teachers -- sure, if you can figure out how to do it fairly, but the idea that it makes it more like private industry? Utter bull. I worked in the private sector, and you get raises whether you perform well or not, you just might not get as big a raise. Plus, the idea that it would help to vet the bad teachers? Crazy talk! Again, I worked in the private sector, and there were so many slackers, ass-kissers, absentees, etc. it wasn't even funny. I can only remember one person ever being fired in my 4 years at our local daily paper, and that person had been "counseled" for months that she needed to do things like show up for her shifts.
I ate FISH! Yeah, really! We were at Kamon on Saturday, and I had been kind of kicking the idea around, and finally tried one little piece of tuna from the middle of sweetie's roll. It had a strange texture -- somewhere between silken tofu and those creepy Asian lychee jelly candies. When I finished it I definitely noticed an unappealing fishy taste. Then Alex, our personal sushi chef (okay, no, just the guy we always talk to when we go), foisted a piece of seared ahi and another of seared albacore on me. I took a bite of the ahi first. The outside, where it was cooked, had kind of a nice flavor, but chewing and swallowing the whole bite proved to be too much, with the texture and the fish taste. I gagged a little (not so you'd notice unless, like Piggs, you were staring at me). Then I tried the albacore, and I think I actually liked the flavor better (it was more fully cooked), but then LITTLE BITS OF STRINGY FISH FLESH GOT BETWEEN MY TEETH! Yeah, that was the end of the fish experiment. I am still a vegetarian, although now I guess I can say I was a vegetarian for 16 years, a pescatarian for 30 minutes, and now have been a vegetarian again for 2 days. Well, it at least answered my question, which was whether I would like fish or not. I don't. Now I know.
Um, what else? I've still been diligent about going to the gym. Yay me. I was sure I had something else interesting to say, but I can't for the life of me remember what. Oh well. Bye all,
CM
Basically, it went as follows:
Go see Bride and Prejudice. It was very enjoyable, incredibly colorful, the musical numbers were energetic and funny, and the lead actress is probably one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. Honestly, I don't think I've ever seen an American movie as colorful if it wasn't meant for kids.
I don't know how I'm ever going to move classrooms if I DON'T GET SOME DAMN BOXES.
Merit pay for teachers -- sure, if you can figure out how to do it fairly, but the idea that it makes it more like private industry? Utter bull. I worked in the private sector, and you get raises whether you perform well or not, you just might not get as big a raise. Plus, the idea that it would help to vet the bad teachers? Crazy talk! Again, I worked in the private sector, and there were so many slackers, ass-kissers, absentees, etc. it wasn't even funny. I can only remember one person ever being fired in my 4 years at our local daily paper, and that person had been "counseled" for months that she needed to do things like show up for her shifts.
I ate FISH! Yeah, really! We were at Kamon on Saturday, and I had been kind of kicking the idea around, and finally tried one little piece of tuna from the middle of sweetie's roll. It had a strange texture -- somewhere between silken tofu and those creepy Asian lychee jelly candies. When I finished it I definitely noticed an unappealing fishy taste. Then Alex, our personal sushi chef (okay, no, just the guy we always talk to when we go), foisted a piece of seared ahi and another of seared albacore on me. I took a bite of the ahi first. The outside, where it was cooked, had kind of a nice flavor, but chewing and swallowing the whole bite proved to be too much, with the texture and the fish taste. I gagged a little (not so you'd notice unless, like Piggs, you were staring at me). Then I tried the albacore, and I think I actually liked the flavor better (it was more fully cooked), but then LITTLE BITS OF STRINGY FISH FLESH GOT BETWEEN MY TEETH! Yeah, that was the end of the fish experiment. I am still a vegetarian, although now I guess I can say I was a vegetarian for 16 years, a pescatarian for 30 minutes, and now have been a vegetarian again for 2 days. Well, it at least answered my question, which was whether I would like fish or not. I don't. Now I know.
Um, what else? I've still been diligent about going to the gym. Yay me. I was sure I had something else interesting to say, but I can't for the life of me remember what. Oh well. Bye all,
CM
Friday, March 11, 2005
Day off!
Actually, I'm going to catch up a little on the last couple days. I mentioned that I was going to see the Alvin Ailey dance troupe, but I didn't ever describe it or anything. It was spectacular. They got such an incredibly long standing ovation at the end that they did an encore, and I have never seen an encore at a dance performance. Monkeygirl described the performance already on her blog, but I'd just like to second the fact that "Revelations" was the best of the pieces by far. Not that the other ones weren't good; they were, and I thoroughly enjoyed them, but "Revelations" was just stunning. The dancers were all in white for most of the piece, and danced to "Wade in the Water" and "Didn't My Lord Deliver Daniel," among others, including "Sinner Man," which is not only an awesome song, but the piece itself, with just three male dancers, was stirring. The dance to Wade in the Water was visually gorgeous -- they pulled two long sheets of blue and aquamarine fabric across the stage and raised and lowered them to resemble water. It's not a new effect, I've seen it before, but the way it contrasted with the dancers' movements was breathtaking. The final piece, with the women all in "church dresses" and the men in white pants and vests, was energetic and entertaining. The women all came on leaning in to one another, shaking their fans at each other . . . at one point they all jumped up on stools and made faces while they waggled their fingers at their male partners. Very expressive.
Seeing modern dance is a little odd for me, because I'm so used to ballet. Many of the moves are the same, but done with a different shape to the body, or a different emphasis. It's like hearing a South African accent. You know they're speaking English, but it sounds off somehow. Seeing a dancer with flexed feet, for example, is jarring to me. But I quickly got over it and enjoyed the dance for what it was. I really need to get out and see more. I used to LOVE going to the Nutcracker, and one of the highlights of my youth was seeing the Joffrey.
Today was a lovely day. I'm pretty sure we hit a record high temperature for March, but it wasn't uncomfortable, only 84 or so. We slept late, ate a light breakfast, dinked around, went to Home Depot and got lumber for my planter bed, ate a nice lunch, took a brief nap, then went to the mall (sweetie got some new pants and shorts), and then Malouf's for dinner.
I just got home from the gym. I had a consultation with a fitness instructor last night. It went pretty well. She showed me how to adjust all the machines, wrote down all the correct settings and weights for me, and even showed me two exercises I could do with free weights to avoid some machines that had been hurting my shoulders. And I got a "wow" from her about my lean muscle mass -- she asked what it was, because she said it looked like I had a lot of muscle (and because she wanted to know if I wanted to build muscle or lose fat), and I told her. She replied "wow, I'm 2 inches taller than you and have 5 fewer pounds of muscle." And she's the fitness instructor! Anyway, one thing she told me was that I needed to do my cardio for longer. I had only been doing about 25 minutes on the bike, and she said if I want to lose fat (duh) I need to do 45 to 60 minutes. So tonight I vowed to try 35 minutes, and when I got there I made my new goal 40 minutes, and when I got there I made the new goal 45, and I made it! My feet get kinda hot after that long on the bike, which I know is probably a stupid reason to quit, but it's uncomfortable. I suppose that's about all for now. I keep thinking it's Saturday, but it's not! I still have two more days off! Yay for mental health days!
Seeing modern dance is a little odd for me, because I'm so used to ballet. Many of the moves are the same, but done with a different shape to the body, or a different emphasis. It's like hearing a South African accent. You know they're speaking English, but it sounds off somehow. Seeing a dancer with flexed feet, for example, is jarring to me. But I quickly got over it and enjoyed the dance for what it was. I really need to get out and see more. I used to LOVE going to the Nutcracker, and one of the highlights of my youth was seeing the Joffrey.
Today was a lovely day. I'm pretty sure we hit a record high temperature for March, but it wasn't uncomfortable, only 84 or so. We slept late, ate a light breakfast, dinked around, went to Home Depot and got lumber for my planter bed, ate a nice lunch, took a brief nap, then went to the mall (sweetie got some new pants and shorts), and then Malouf's for dinner.
I just got home from the gym. I had a consultation with a fitness instructor last night. It went pretty well. She showed me how to adjust all the machines, wrote down all the correct settings and weights for me, and even showed me two exercises I could do with free weights to avoid some machines that had been hurting my shoulders. And I got a "wow" from her about my lean muscle mass -- she asked what it was, because she said it looked like I had a lot of muscle (and because she wanted to know if I wanted to build muscle or lose fat), and I told her. She replied "wow, I'm 2 inches taller than you and have 5 fewer pounds of muscle." And she's the fitness instructor! Anyway, one thing she told me was that I needed to do my cardio for longer. I had only been doing about 25 minutes on the bike, and she said if I want to lose fat (duh) I need to do 45 to 60 minutes. So tonight I vowed to try 35 minutes, and when I got there I made my new goal 40 minutes, and when I got there I made the new goal 45, and I made it! My feet get kinda hot after that long on the bike, which I know is probably a stupid reason to quit, but it's uncomfortable. I suppose that's about all for now. I keep thinking it's Saturday, but it's not! I still have two more days off! Yay for mental health days!
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Good news!
No, the good news isn't that I'm a D12 (incidentally, I didn't even get half the in-jokes of the nerdy quiz), it's that I got my wallet back! Some kid found it by Morrison Creek and turned it in! It's minus fifteen bucks or so, but what's $15 compared to spending an hour or more at the DMV, never mind being on the phone with Kaiser's customer "service?" I'm thrilled. It also means that I took tomorrow off for the sheer pleasure of enjoying this 80 degree weather, rather than getting up early to go to the DMV. I don't even know quite what to do with myself this weekend. Should I paint? Should we go to the beach? Should I start my big planter bed construction project? Self tan? Get a haircut? Plant the bulbs for which it is damn near too late and too warm? I'm so excited!
This might be stupid, but I'm curious -- when you slather your hands in antibacterial hand goo, how much of the germs does it kill? Like, sometimes I use goo, and my hands still don't feel as clean as they do with soap and water. If you rubbed the goo all over a piece of used gum, would the outside of the gum be germ-free, but if you broke the surface, germ-filled? How far does this go? Could you put a tiny morsel of something really nasty inside a container of antibacterial goo, shake it up real good, and still have effective antibacterial goo? What if the morsel wasn't as tiny? What if you poured antibacterial goo over a fork that someone with bird flu had eaten off of -- could you then lick the fork and not get bird flu? Or would you be better off just washing it in hot water with a sponge and soap? If anyone knows, I'm not just being funny, I'm genuinely curious.
Well, that's all for now. I'm going to enjoy this incredible day.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Quickie
Yo, Monkeygirl's on her way over to pick me up, so this may be abruptly cut off at any time.
First, I'm glad Doris Matsui won the congressional race. I voted for her (sorry, secret ballot). First of all, she was the only contender who seemed vaguely qualified or whose ideals matched my own (I know I shouldn't judge based on this, but Julie Padilla's whole family seems skeezy). And to those folks who complained that being the wife of a representative doesn't qualify you to be a representative, a fat raspberry. What would qualify you, anyway? She's been around the political process for years, is intimately familiar with it, has been a lobbyist, has held applicable positions . . . and what job can you ever be totally prepared to do before actually doing it? I mean, even your basic lawn jockey has to know how to change the oil, put gas in the mower, clean the blades, etc. Anyway, why wouldn't somebody's wife be at least somewhat prepared for the job? Could I walk in and be a librarian just because Piggs is? Of course not, but with the education, I'd already have a headstart. An example probably even better suited to the Matsui situation is that of me and my mom -- after all, I lived with her for almost 20 years, unlike the Pigster. Could I go be a Deputy Coroner? Nope, but I could tell you the difference between mode and manner of death, detail at least some of the things that have to be done at the scene, figure out how to locate and notify next of kin (like, looking in the Kletz system in more than one way, like under date of birth, SSN, driver's liscense, name, previous names, etc). I'd even know some tricks about placing notices in local papers around the country. I could tell you when you need a doctor to sign off on the death, when you might want to call the chaplains, I'd know to make sure the family pets had been taken care of and to make sure the house was locked up if someone lived alone, I'd know to look around the scene for medicine bottles, weapons, even unusual things, like tons of empty water bottles (diabetic attack). Anyway, I don't presume to think I could do the job walking in, but I could probably pick it up pretty damn fast, and almost certainly do a better job than one or two of the older employees (who rhyme with Rudy Trenton). That's all I ask of Matsui, that she do her best and pick it up pretty damned quick.
I have to move classrooms. I have to have everything completely packed (every last paper clip) by next Friday. I'm not thrilled about it, but on the other hand, this might be a good opportunity to get rid of some things and organize some other things in preparation for moving to another school, which I am still really hoping for.
The weather is beautiful, and I unexpectedly and luckily find myself with a Greek food and Alvin Ailey date, so life is pretty good overall. Better go, she's here!
First, I'm glad Doris Matsui won the congressional race. I voted for her (sorry, secret ballot). First of all, she was the only contender who seemed vaguely qualified or whose ideals matched my own (I know I shouldn't judge based on this, but Julie Padilla's whole family seems skeezy). And to those folks who complained that being the wife of a representative doesn't qualify you to be a representative, a fat raspberry. What would qualify you, anyway? She's been around the political process for years, is intimately familiar with it, has been a lobbyist, has held applicable positions . . . and what job can you ever be totally prepared to do before actually doing it? I mean, even your basic lawn jockey has to know how to change the oil, put gas in the mower, clean the blades, etc. Anyway, why wouldn't somebody's wife be at least somewhat prepared for the job? Could I walk in and be a librarian just because Piggs is? Of course not, but with the education, I'd already have a headstart. An example probably even better suited to the Matsui situation is that of me and my mom -- after all, I lived with her for almost 20 years, unlike the Pigster. Could I go be a Deputy Coroner? Nope, but I could tell you the difference between mode and manner of death, detail at least some of the things that have to be done at the scene, figure out how to locate and notify next of kin (like, looking in the Kletz system in more than one way, like under date of birth, SSN, driver's liscense, name, previous names, etc). I'd even know some tricks about placing notices in local papers around the country. I could tell you when you need a doctor to sign off on the death, when you might want to call the chaplains, I'd know to make sure the family pets had been taken care of and to make sure the house was locked up if someone lived alone, I'd know to look around the scene for medicine bottles, weapons, even unusual things, like tons of empty water bottles (diabetic attack). Anyway, I don't presume to think I could do the job walking in, but I could probably pick it up pretty damn fast, and almost certainly do a better job than one or two of the older employees (who rhyme with Rudy Trenton). That's all I ask of Matsui, that she do her best and pick it up pretty damned quick.
I have to move classrooms. I have to have everything completely packed (every last paper clip) by next Friday. I'm not thrilled about it, but on the other hand, this might be a good opportunity to get rid of some things and organize some other things in preparation for moving to another school, which I am still really hoping for.
The weather is beautiful, and I unexpectedly and luckily find myself with a Greek food and Alvin Ailey date, so life is pretty good overall. Better go, she's here!
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Ode to Home Depot
Hey, total rought draft stuff here, so don't be frontin', 'cause I got mad poetry skills, yo, I just tossed this shit off.
I know I shouldn’t love you like I do,
Home Depot. I make every effort to go
to the local Ace, the nursery, the paint store.
But when I follow an evening whim, and walk
through your doors in early spring
I find that you can set my dreams free.
In lumber, oh lord, stacked green fir becomes
a planter bed in my imagination,
with a bench, perhaps, for reading.
In lighting I find the fan, rattan, the blades of which
will rotate slowly, like at Rick’s Cafe Americain.
I sneak outside, almost wondering if it is closed,
it is so dark, and a safety gate is abandoned in the aisle.
But no, it is just dark and quiet and cool,
and I find the soaker hoses and wheelbarrows,
imagining myself industrious.
Here are the dwarf citrus -- surely, we can eat a tree’s worth
of oranges, make guacamole with the limes.
I step through shallow puddles in the ferns,
turn around, surprised, to see the yellow broom,
exploding, reaching up to me in yellow joy,
a toddler on his toes, demanding “up!”
Pink jasmine, a display of so many blooms
it feel sinful. I lean far in and breathe.
Starry blue anemones stand tall,
glamorous, glowing, velvet, silk.
Ornamental peppers above my head
get their sunny orange attention
and the mossy flat of ground cover below
aches to be petted.
I have been dreaming of sun loving herbs
in a southern exposure kitchen garden
and here I peek at the raddiccio, tomatoes,
cilantro, squash, and every card says “full sun, full sun.”
Back inside, the seed packets whisper that
I must plant my peat pots this week.
The water lilies ask whether I will ever plant
around my fountain to cover the aging tiles.
I know I shouldn’t love you like I do,
Home Depot. I make every effort to go
to the local Ace, the nursery, the paint store.
But when I follow an evening whim, and walk
through your doors in early spring
I find that you can set my dreams free.
In lumber, oh lord, stacked green fir becomes
a planter bed in my imagination,
with a bench, perhaps, for reading.
In lighting I find the fan, rattan, the blades of which
will rotate slowly, like at Rick’s Cafe Americain.
I sneak outside, almost wondering if it is closed,
it is so dark, and a safety gate is abandoned in the aisle.
But no, it is just dark and quiet and cool,
and I find the soaker hoses and wheelbarrows,
imagining myself industrious.
Here are the dwarf citrus -- surely, we can eat a tree’s worth
of oranges, make guacamole with the limes.
I step through shallow puddles in the ferns,
turn around, surprised, to see the yellow broom,
exploding, reaching up to me in yellow joy,
a toddler on his toes, demanding “up!”
Pink jasmine, a display of so many blooms
it feel sinful. I lean far in and breathe.
Starry blue anemones stand tall,
glamorous, glowing, velvet, silk.
Ornamental peppers above my head
get their sunny orange attention
and the mossy flat of ground cover below
aches to be petted.
I have been dreaming of sun loving herbs
in a southern exposure kitchen garden
and here I peek at the raddiccio, tomatoes,
cilantro, squash, and every card says “full sun, full sun.”
Back inside, the seed packets whisper that
I must plant my peat pots this week.
The water lilies ask whether I will ever plant
around my fountain to cover the aging tiles.
Monday, March 07, 2005
Trader Joe's and wacky gym behavior
Okay, first of all, Trader Joe's, I love you. If you only had better produce, I would never go anywhere else. I have discovered the world's best pretzels there now, the multi-grain pretzel nuggets with sesame seeds. Usually my sweetie and I don't eat each others' snacks too much -- I'll have some chips, he'll have some dried pineapple, but not a ton -- but we may end up having to buy these in bulk and then hide bags from each other. They're GOOD. I like them just plain, but he came up with the idea of dipping them in peanut butter or "india relish," also from TJ's.
The other cool thing is their flowers -- they're really inexpensive and beautiful. I can finally realize my (admittedly modest) dream of keeping fresh flowers around all the time. Last week was $3.99 Calla lilies and this week I got 10 daffodils for 99 cents. Yep, they came as closed-up little buds, but I put them in water and they opened up beautifully within a day. So thanks for a bit of uplifting stuff.
People are weird. I've only been going to this gym a short time, but I've already seen quite a bit of unusual behavior. Never mind the guy that sang loudly with only a few sporadic notes on his walkman. Never mind the women that seem to only use the hot tub and never work out. Never mind the guy who asked (loudly) if the guy in front of him on the treadmill could use another machine because he was in the way of the TV, never mind the guy with the 20 year old skater t-shirts who always stares at me and tried to read the title of the book I'm reading . . . No, I'm purely sticking with strange use of the machines. Yesterday I saw a woman put the weights on the absolute lightest possible setting (about ten pounds) and then do the exercises at super-speed-demon-on-meth rate. Seriously, like with the lat raise thing, she looked like she was flapping her arms and trying to take off. And she did about a hundred repetitions. But just a few minutes later, I saw a guy doing the exact opposite. He put the machine way down on like 300 pounds, then strained, turned purple, wrenched his back off the machine, jerked his head, grunted, and did like 5 reps. Now, I am not claiming any expertise in fitness. I have absolutely none. But common sense and the training I went through would seem to indicate that these people should find a happy medium. The woman is getting, at best, some aerobic benefit (but not much, since the flapping only lasts about a minute) and the guy is getting, at best, muscle strain. Hmph.
I went to the DMV today, thinking maybe I could just bite the bullet and get it over with. But the parking lot looked like the first day of a new semester at City College, before all the stoners realize it's, like, CLASS, dude, and drop out. I parked down the street and walked to the DMV, where inside there were a couple hundred people. No, I'm not kidding. The windows were serving numbers A38 through G307. Again, not kidding. I got the form I needed and left.
The other cool thing is their flowers -- they're really inexpensive and beautiful. I can finally realize my (admittedly modest) dream of keeping fresh flowers around all the time. Last week was $3.99 Calla lilies and this week I got 10 daffodils for 99 cents. Yep, they came as closed-up little buds, but I put them in water and they opened up beautifully within a day. So thanks for a bit of uplifting stuff.
People are weird. I've only been going to this gym a short time, but I've already seen quite a bit of unusual behavior. Never mind the guy that sang loudly with only a few sporadic notes on his walkman. Never mind the women that seem to only use the hot tub and never work out. Never mind the guy who asked (loudly) if the guy in front of him on the treadmill could use another machine because he was in the way of the TV, never mind the guy with the 20 year old skater t-shirts who always stares at me and tried to read the title of the book I'm reading . . . No, I'm purely sticking with strange use of the machines. Yesterday I saw a woman put the weights on the absolute lightest possible setting (about ten pounds) and then do the exercises at super-speed-demon-on-meth rate. Seriously, like with the lat raise thing, she looked like she was flapping her arms and trying to take off. And she did about a hundred repetitions. But just a few minutes later, I saw a guy doing the exact opposite. He put the machine way down on like 300 pounds, then strained, turned purple, wrenched his back off the machine, jerked his head, grunted, and did like 5 reps. Now, I am not claiming any expertise in fitness. I have absolutely none. But common sense and the training I went through would seem to indicate that these people should find a happy medium. The woman is getting, at best, some aerobic benefit (but not much, since the flapping only lasts about a minute) and the guy is getting, at best, muscle strain. Hmph.
I went to the DMV today, thinking maybe I could just bite the bullet and get it over with. But the parking lot looked like the first day of a new semester at City College, before all the stoners realize it's, like, CLASS, dude, and drop out. I parked down the street and walked to the DMV, where inside there were a couple hundred people. No, I'm not kidding. The windows were serving numbers A38 through G307. Again, not kidding. I got the form I needed and left.
If ever a box of doughnuts in the office would have tempted me . . .
Today would be the day. I need some uplifting (chocolate) food, and like NOW. I didn't blog all weekend, partly because I was busy but partly because I was feeling especially uncharitable towards humanity. On Friday at school my wallet got stolen, most likely in the Drama class I've been martyring myself over (remember Dante's refrain from Clerks, "I'm not even supposed to be here today?" My refrain is "I wasn't even supposed to have this after-school club, it was supposed to replace one of my classes!"). Anyway, they couldn't have just taken the cash, oh no, I have to replace my driver's liscence, ATM card, Visa card, gym membership, Kaiser card, Macy's card, Limited card (better do that, I almost forgot I had it!), and they even got my cute sunbathing pin-up girl wallet. So I missed going to the gym because we went to dinner so late (after searching for my wallet and making several calls). Then today I really didn't want to come back here, even having stress nightmares about it, and could I possibly get a break? Nope, it's straight back to all my a-holes who won't let the teacher get a word in edgewise.
Anyway, the weekend itself wasn't bad, it was even kind of nice. We went to Kathmandu Kitchen for dinner Friday, and the bill seems to always be slow getting to us, but otherwise the service is good, and the food is tasty. I had Aloo Kauli Ko Tarkari (I think) served "very very hot" and I like it a lot. Then Saturday we had a quiet morning at home. I met with Mom for lunch at Tres Hermanas, and then was headed to Guitargirl's aunt's house to make Greek food, but they had to put it off. I came home and crawled into bed, where Piggs was napping. He stretched out his hand, touched me, and freaked out big time. And thus the nap ended. Then I did a few things around the house, we went to Kamon for sushi (and I almost have up my vegetarian ways when the sushi chef gave us seared albacore to try), then I went briefly to the gym. Sunday was another quiet morning at home. Band practice was cancelled, so we made a big lunch salad and I cleaned the heck out of the patio area so we can start our "outdoor living" again. If you're not here in Sac, prepare to be jealous -- we are having positively springlike weather here, and I'm in a sleeveless dress and sandals today. I went to the gym and had a really nice workout, including a soak in the hot tub at the end. Then I had Vietnamese food with Drummergirl and we had a nice long talk, and then I got to see some of her recent photographs. Then I ran back to Mom's house to feed the cat (I had forgotten the keys earlier) and came home and it was bedtime. I really could have used just one more day off. Oh well. Spring Break's coming soon.
Take care all,
Count Mockula
Anyway, the weekend itself wasn't bad, it was even kind of nice. We went to Kathmandu Kitchen for dinner Friday, and the bill seems to always be slow getting to us, but otherwise the service is good, and the food is tasty. I had Aloo Kauli Ko Tarkari (I think) served "very very hot" and I like it a lot. Then Saturday we had a quiet morning at home. I met with Mom for lunch at Tres Hermanas, and then was headed to Guitargirl's aunt's house to make Greek food, but they had to put it off. I came home and crawled into bed, where Piggs was napping. He stretched out his hand, touched me, and freaked out big time. And thus the nap ended. Then I did a few things around the house, we went to Kamon for sushi (and I almost have up my vegetarian ways when the sushi chef gave us seared albacore to try), then I went briefly to the gym. Sunday was another quiet morning at home. Band practice was cancelled, so we made a big lunch salad and I cleaned the heck out of the patio area so we can start our "outdoor living" again. If you're not here in Sac, prepare to be jealous -- we are having positively springlike weather here, and I'm in a sleeveless dress and sandals today. I went to the gym and had a really nice workout, including a soak in the hot tub at the end. Then I had Vietnamese food with Drummergirl and we had a nice long talk, and then I got to see some of her recent photographs. Then I ran back to Mom's house to feed the cat (I had forgotten the keys earlier) and came home and it was bedtime. I really could have used just one more day off. Oh well. Spring Break's coming soon.
Take care all,
Count Mockula
Friday, March 04, 2005
Mr. Piggs must be busy
So I'll take over and post this article about China's rebuttal to the U.S.' human rights report. Sad thing is, they're right.
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
So tired
And I don't even know why. I had such a headache last night. If I could draw it, I would sketch something that looked like the "vein" of a shrimp, but jagged, six inches long running from my temple to my jaw, stretched tight like a rubber band about to break, and pulsing red neon. I was actually talking to myself, like "oooooooooooowwwwwww noooo heaaadache nooooo, Iiiiiiiii feeeeelllll fiiiiiiinnneee" and doing lamaze breathing.
Today at school wasn't too bad, just too long. Two of my biggest troublemakers have been suspended for a week, and they both came back today. We were lamenting in our meeting that we spend so much time teaching to the test, that nobody's really learning anything. Like, we talked about all the things we remembered from junior high -- to a one, they were all hands-on; involvement in clubs, art projects, creating scale models in science, cooking, making crystals, evaporating saltwater to make salt crystals, growing things, collecting plant samples, learning about cultures through things like food and clothing (like when my French teacher made us all crepes with Nutella), making video projects . . . Our kids do hardly anything like this. And we all admitted that those schools had things ours doesn't -- parent participation and money. But when it comes down to it, what do we remember? The stuff we did. And if I remember what a solution is, it's because of the salt thing. If I remember more facts about Neptune than any other planet, it's because that's the planet I made, if I still remember all Henry VIII's wives and what happened to them, it's because that was my History Day video project. So the stuff I learned, I learned by doing, not by spending 2 hours a day reading about it then taking a multiple choice test on it. But as a teacher, it's really hard to incorporate that kind of hands on activity with no money, no parents, no field trip drivers, no backbone in the school's discipline (the idiot who would throw glue sticks and rub them in a girl's hair is coming right back to class if he gets thrown out), and a directive from the administration that we need to focus on test taking skills, the standards, the ability to sit still for long periods of time, the way to completely fill in a Scantron bubble . . . What a waste.
Today at school wasn't too bad, just too long. Two of my biggest troublemakers have been suspended for a week, and they both came back today. We were lamenting in our meeting that we spend so much time teaching to the test, that nobody's really learning anything. Like, we talked about all the things we remembered from junior high -- to a one, they were all hands-on; involvement in clubs, art projects, creating scale models in science, cooking, making crystals, evaporating saltwater to make salt crystals, growing things, collecting plant samples, learning about cultures through things like food and clothing (like when my French teacher made us all crepes with Nutella), making video projects . . . Our kids do hardly anything like this. And we all admitted that those schools had things ours doesn't -- parent participation and money. But when it comes down to it, what do we remember? The stuff we did. And if I remember what a solution is, it's because of the salt thing. If I remember more facts about Neptune than any other planet, it's because that's the planet I made, if I still remember all Henry VIII's wives and what happened to them, it's because that was my History Day video project. So the stuff I learned, I learned by doing, not by spending 2 hours a day reading about it then taking a multiple choice test on it. But as a teacher, it's really hard to incorporate that kind of hands on activity with no money, no parents, no field trip drivers, no backbone in the school's discipline (the idiot who would throw glue sticks and rub them in a girl's hair is coming right back to class if he gets thrown out), and a directive from the administration that we need to focus on test taking skills, the standards, the ability to sit still for long periods of time, the way to completely fill in a Scantron bubble . . . What a waste.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
What a crazy day!
Today was the 7th grade writing test, which the 8th graders don't have to take. But the 8th graders are here on campus and need to be contained for as long as the test takes. We had scheduled 75 minutes, but before it was over the P.A. came on and they announced it was being extended by 15 minutes. Then they extended it again. Ultimately they just cut out a whole period, we went to lunch almost an hour late, I had to deal with 5th period (one of my least favorite classes) for more than two hours and all the rest of my classes are cut short. And since school is the only thing that is vaguely structured or routine about most of these kids' lives, they go absolutely apeshit when it gets messed up. Well, only one more (39 minute) class, then drama club, then home.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)