A Little Weird

An unusually, uncharacteristically long amount of time has passed since I last posted. Perhaps this is due to the nature of my schedule (I'm doing what today? Wait, when will I get on the internet?), or the sheer mass of my schedule. Let me give you a sampling of what has been going on:
-4 parties
-multiple shopping days
-7 work days (6 were in a row)
-5 friends in town (Rosie, Em, Jelly, Daveo and Pamela)
-3 batches of Christmas goodies
-lots of movies (recommendation: Night at the Museum)
-1 snowboarding trip
-1 trip to the coast
-1 drive down Peacock lane
-1 morning of sleeping in (today)
It has been a fantastic first three-quarters of Winter Break - a little crazy, breathless, but fun.

Actual Christmas Break

From my experience, the title of Christmas break needs a few more words. Something along the lines of "Christmas might Break you". The season is pretty insane: gifts, lines, money, food, baking, eating, wrapping, singing, parties, plans, driving, working extra hours, snowboarding, hugging, decorating, opening, inviting - all as much fun as a snowday. If only all that fun could be one day at a time, rather than crammed into three weeks of exhaustion - all piled on right after finals. Oh, the brutality.
But like it or not, that's the note on which we start the season. A season that's supposed to be full of tranquility, remembrance, love, sharing, sitting by the fire, contemplating the "reason for the season". And here we are: tried, burnt out, broke and annoyed. But this year, before my attempt to try to give and love and contemplate, God gave a little something to me: a vacation in South Carolina.

A New Favorite

...Christmas song
(Thanks to Sufjan Stevens)

Come on! let’s boogie to the elf dance

tie up your boots
jump off the ladder
pack up your clothes
nothing’s the matter
mistletoe hangs up in the bedroom
your sister’s bangs, she cut them herself

santa is here
sleigh bells are ringing
twenty one elves
they are all singing
kmart is closed
so is the bakery
everyone’s home watching tv

santa claus is coming
hear the banjos strumming
santa claus is coming
hear the banjos strumming

chestnuts and fire
holly and hay
jesus and mary
what a great day
evergreen tree covered in snow
tower of babel tower of glow

there’s a m_______????
and there’s a ________????
they give us good gifts
like mittens and socks

hijack a snowplow
clear out the streets
tell all the neighbors
there’s cookies to eat

get up off the floor and get in the shower
there’s a lot to shout about
santa claus is coming to town
he’s got the greatest gifts around

away in the manger
no crib for a bed
little lord jesus lay down his sweet head
the stars in the sky look down where he lay
the little lord jesus asleep on the hay
the cattle are lowing the baby awakes
little lord jesus, no crying he makes

Questions of Deliciousness

On feeling unwell and in the mood for something hot to drink, I decided to attempt a "hot chunky drink", as Rosie dubbed them so long ago. Creating these with out a steam wand is not quite the best, but I figured I'd try.

Cranberry-Raspberry juice
Frozen blueberries
Honey
Blender
Microwave

It was almost a Bibo hot drink. But not quite. I can't remember, but I am pretty sure there were three ingredients in that drink. Apple juice and whole cranberries? I remember the Fuji (Rose and I have had equal reproductions from the Energy Bar). I remember the Pike's Peak (easy - hot chocolate). I remember the Mt Vesuvius! But what was the cranberry-blueberry one?
My memory plagues me.
At least my taste buds are satisfied.

Inspired by Emily

I thought, after reading Emily's blog, that I ought to create a projected Winter Break reading list.
I took one look at my bookshelf, crowded and chaotic like an airport at Christmas, and scratched that idea. I think I might just close my eyes, spin around, pin the tail on the donkey style and grab a few - who knows what I might come up with. Or maybe I should just finish things I've non-commitedly picked up (and put down) over the past six months.

As for books not on my shelf... This list appeared out of notes taken during Borges and Calvino:

"Earth, Sea" trilogy Ursula Le Guin
Anything by Ursula Le Guin
Kafka
Kant
"The Periodic Table" Primo Levi
Zamyatin
Brodsky
"One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest"
"Slaughter House Five"
Georges Perec
R. L. Stevenson
J. G. Ballard
Octavio Butler
"Stars 'n Bars" William Boyd
"Slowness" Milan Kundera
"Popular Music from Vittula" Mikael Niemi
"Stolen Spring" Hans Scherfig

I'm wondering... has anyone read any of these? School leaves me feeling terribly illiterate.

Good Ol' Traditions

Note: This was not the tree we chose. I liked it and thought it looked like a Martian tree. We got a normal one.
I like hot chocolate and family.
And trees.

Kisses

That poor little froggy needs a kiss like this:

Overflow of Excitement

Mt Hood Meadows:
TUESDAY 11/28 5:00 AM
BASE AREA TEMP 12
NEW SNOW
PAST 24 HOURS 8 "
BASE SNOW DEPTH 6 Feet
MID SNOW DEPTH 7 FeetTimberline:
November 28, 2006, 7:35 am
Sky Snowing
Temperature 11º
Wind 5-15 MPH W
New Snow 6"
Base Depth at Lodge 83"Ski Bowl:
November 28, 2006
Time: 9:30AM
Temp:24 degrees in the base/16 on top
Wind: calm
Skies: Snowing
Conditions: Early season powder!
Depth: 65" at midway
Last 24 Hours: 4"

Why am I not there???

What It Is.

At risk of sounding narcissistic, inappreciative, simple or whatever other terms you might have for this small thing, this Thanksgiving I am thankful for smells.
And all that goes along with them.

People.
Food.
Shampoo.
Hugs.
Paper.
Blankets.
Celery.
Familiar.

Dreams

Ugh. I have had so many dreams this week. There had been something of a dry spell recently, but now the dreams are back in force, like spiders at Christmas time. Not that they've been bad, but...
I want my sleep back.

Miscellaneous Me

Confirmation

That I do have the best job in the world. (Or at least one of the best.) (The best for me.)

Job uniform: Whatever is comfortable, movable, warm and that I don't mind getting dog hair, spit up, snot, etc, on.

What I actually wear at work: A bright pink princess dress, a pink cowboy hat, a fir collar and a scarf around my face. -OR- A hideous orange lace dress, a light pink tutu for a collar, and a brown scarf around my head and face.

Faaaantastic. Tonight at work me, a six year old girl and two four year old boys ran around a house in Ramona Quimby's neighborhood, trying on various guises and breaking out of jail. And then switching to playing dad and kids.

Yes, I get paid to do this.

Book.

If on a winter's night a traveler
Italo Calvino

You must buy it.
You must read it.
You must love it.

Mood to Complain.

Things I dislike:

Tables and graphs in articles.
Having to go to the bathroom.
Having cold hands and feet.
When my eyes burn.
How my room never stays clean.
Cutting my thumb on a soupcan.
Not having a new Harry Potter movie to watch for a long time.
Not being able to hang out with Lita this weekend.

Please don't think me ungrateful - I have loads of things I do like and am not having a bad day. I just all of a sudden realized a lot of things I don't like.

In the Rain

peripatetic \pair-uh-puh-TET-ik\, adjective:

1. Of or pertaining to walking about or traveling from place to place; itinerant.
2. Of or pertaining to the philosophy taught by Aristotle (who gave his instructions while walking in the Lyceum at Athens), or to his followers.
3. One who walks about; a pedestrian; an itinerant.
4. A follower of Aristotle; an Aristotelian.

I think I am peripatetic. I wander and work, wander and study, wander and take pictures. It's nice.

Who Needs 'Em

I sit in my chair, looking down four stories to the bricks, and wonder: Why does anyone ever pay $2 million for a playground? All these kids really need to have fun is a paved/bricked/cobbled area, covered in leaves and leftover rain.How different these steps look with college students utilizing them. Standing, talking, rushing. Whatever happened to sliding, running and laughing?

Fall Study

Artificial and Natural VegitationHalf and Half

Favorite Colors

What Dreams

People sometimes speculate or throw about theories regarding dreams.
If you have a favorite, have a go at this:

I was at a birthday party for this girl I know - it was as slumber party. For some reason her mom was in the living room with us (it was supposed to be her mom, but she actually was, in real life, the mom of another of my friends). And Josh. After a lot of boring details, it came to about 3 or 4am, and there was a knock on the door. The side door. And who might it be but John Kerry, trying to break into the house. BUT - he did not in any way resemble John Kerry, but rather, Benjamin Clark-Mitchell. Yes. Ben/John breaking into the house. Somehow we made him go away, but that is not important so I don't remember. The curious part is the Ben as a politician / politician as a robber part.

Hypochondri-Anatolia

Well, Stuart has a little glitch and freaks out. I think he's a hypochondriac. No big heart attack or anything. Good grief. But no matter, I'm still just happy he works. Silly thing.

As much as I complain about all the papers and assignments I have, it really is quite wonderful learning all the things I'm learning. Today I have immersed myself in Turkish history and culture. Very enjoyable. Since 4 years ago when I took the Western Survey (Art History) I have been interested in Turkey. In the first section of the survey I was introduced to the Haghia Sophia.
In a word: amazing.
It sparked my interest in Turkey, if nothing else but to make me put Istanbul on my top 5 places I would really like to go. It was built in the Justinian era, under a (somewhat) Christian rule. It was rebuilt in part due to earthquakes, and added on to due to the course of history, but it is still primarily the same as it was when it was built. This place is huge. And beautiful. I love the thought that something so beautiful, powerful, massive and inspiring was built for my King. As is the unfortunate destiny of so many beautiful places of worship, it has been reduced to a mere museum. Like Turkey itself, the Haghia Sophia has experienced a kind of ridiculously diverse history, and, as a museum, stands for a little bit of everything with the Bible as an insuppressible foundation.

Fingers and Toes

I was pondering the phenomena of how inactivity seems to lower one's body temperature when I realized I had slightly wet socks on, leftover from my brief stand on the corner of Broadway and Hall in the pouring rain. I walked into my room to remedy this misery, but forgot my mission, distracted by the cold, and put on my hot pink fleece pants instead. And grabbed a second mug of SpiceTea. This worked for a bit. Until I decided to post pictures and write a paper. Typing always leaves my fingers frozen. Hm. Still cold er.
Then my mom came in and announced the heater hadn't been coming on and the house was 60 degrees. Ohhhhh.
My socks are still wet.

Eek!

[I would fix the red eye on these photos, but I don't have a program for it on my parent's computer, and.... sadly, Stuart is rejecting his heart transplant and is currently in a coma. Or, at least, refusing to turn on. (It goes something like this: compaq screen, bluescreen, windows screen, black screen with words, compaq screen, black screen, windows screen, blue screen... you get the picture.)]

But!
There it is: proof of a fantastically fun party. I was impressed greatly by my friend's costuming abilities.
Amazing.
Rad.
Amazlingly rad.

Surreal

I hopped on the bus at a different stop than usual, a good third of the way down the line. I walked to the back, as is my good citizenry custom, and promptly engrossed myself in Under the Jaguar Sun. The timing of the line already disoriented, I lost myself in a London of the 1950s or '60s. Sensing myself emerged from the forest of cement and glass and steel, I glanced up to find myself on the bridge, face turning first to one window then the next in unison with all the other passengers, all surprised at the sunset. Sunsets are always beautiful from the bridge, even if they are invisible, smothered by clouds or purpled by smog. This evening's was circular - hence the looking around occurring as I looked up. All around the city was a darkish pink ring. A sunset for all people, no matter the easterly direction of their window or movement. A sunset everywhere you looked. It gave the particular sensation of being on the most western edge of the world.
I fell into my book again in hopes of finishing it before I reached my stop. So engrossed was I that I almost didn't make the connection between my location in the line and the necessity of pulling the yellow cord.
Upon getting off, the world shifted again, not to the most westerly point of all points, but to the place where all bus 8s converge. Three busses in a row stormed by: 8, 8, 8.

Happy Sigh

I just had to turn up my music to hear it over the rain. Such a lovely mix of soothing sound.

In the Name of Homework

"For quite a while already, a procession of motorbikes and cars and bicycles and children had been following the tree that was moving about the city, without Marcovaldo's becoming aware of them, and they were shouting: "The baobab! The babobab!" and with great "Ooooh's!" of wonder they watched the yellowing of the leaves. When one leaf dropped and flew off, many hands were raised to catch it in fight."

-from "Marcoaldo, or The seasons in the city", Italo Calvino

*Kronk Scared Face*

You get a weird variety of results when you search the library catalogue for "veil".

Dia de Ecuador

Today felt like Ecuador day. You know those days that feel themed? Like the stars aligned and there was a cosmic theme party? Well, today I found out that one of my classmates grew up in Ecuador and Costa Rica. And I was wearing my beautiful, soft alpaca scarf from the amazing Pamela Joy. So that's only two things, but still, nothing else was really consistently interesting today - except that for the second day in a row my second class of the day was cancelled. And I'm watching my second documentary of the week. Maybe I was wrong and it was "Seconds Day".
Oh well.

"Seven months after President Bush, flanked by a "Mission Accomplished" banner, declared the Iraq war over, British Journalist Sean Langan singularly chronicled events and interviewed parties on both sides of the war. Along with footage of suicide bombers and various battles, Langan's gripping documentary features interviews with both resistance fighters and American Troops, providing a unique perspective of the war from both sides."

This is what I am watching for homework right now. I had an assignment to choose a documentary on the Middle East and write a response to it. Most of the documentaries I came across were just war ones and looked rather unpleasant and, how can I put it - propaganda. But then I found this one. So far it is interesting and thought provoking.
I don't like war, but I like documentaries.

Now I Know.

I could be a political strategist:

It won't work.
People will die.
There will be an uprising, perhaps a coup d'etat.
People will blame others.
There will be a huge World Bank debt.

And I request a salary of $1.2 million per annum with 2 months vacation.

Thank you.

Art on a Saturday

What do these images have in common?
(This is you little weekend pop quiz.)

Been a Little While

...since I posted a "good trivial things" list.

So.
Good Things:

-The Police (music, not institution).
-Bargains (Buying $100 worth of clothes for just over $5).
-Sunshine and news of snow.
-Josh and Austin and World of Warcraft.
-Natasha saying "Oh - I love sewage." with so much passion.
-A clean room.
-A free evening and day tomorrow (to fill with 3 papers and a lot of reading).

Almost Awkward

You know those moments - we all have them - when you find yourself so intently staring off into space that all of a sudden your face is unbreakably transfixed in a look of possession: the face straight ahead, the eyes wide and glazed, the eyebrows slightly arched, forehead wrinkled. Your mind then resurrects before your sensibilities and you have a strong sensation of being zoned but have no faculties for fully awaking into reality, space and time. And then you're back, blinking and mildly confused, wondering what you missed and who noticed.
During class this morning I caught someone across the room from me frozen in this state. His features grew more and more exaggerated and comical till I almost started to laugh. In my comfortable state of listening, not quite bored yet fiddling with my paper and pencil, I proceeded to make a quick almost anime style sketch of him in his humorous state. Then I had a sensation of my classmates on either side noticing my doodlings. A sudden sense of fear that they might recognize him and realize my exploitation of his tiredness, I quickly turned my page over and resumed my squiggles and squares on the other side.

October Afternoons

This is how I feel
about the rain this
after noon.
And about my hair.
(Happy)

October Fridays

In the middle of all the books I have to read today, I started browsing the internet for pictures of hairstyles - just for fun and because I'm getting my hair cut today. Then I saw this and thought: Why don't I just get a wig?

Back To School

Allison's ABCs:

Adolf Gotlieb, Decent into Darkness
Barnett Newman, "Genesis"
Cliff's Notes
Damien Rice
Eat Drink Man Woman
Fernand Leger, The City
Gnu
Hanna Hoch, Cut with the Kitchen Knife
If You Want My Body
J. K. Rowling
Kandinsky, Several Circles, No. 323
Laszlo Malholy-Nagy, Light-Space Modulator
MLA documentation
New Yorker
Oh Brother Where Art Thou?
Pablo Picasso, Gertrude Stein
q
Rauchenberg, White Series
SIGG switzerland
Town Lounge, Portland, OR
uk
Valerie Jauden, Tallahache
Warhol, 12 Cadilacs
x
Yves Tanguy, Mama, Papa is Wounded
z

It Makes a Tad More Sense, or, Consider Reality

I counted an approximate number of pages assigned to me this weekend and found them to fall somewhere near the 500 mark. This might account for my concern for how I can fit them all in. Add to that a quiz and a writing assignment, as well. Rather interesting, though, I find these assignments; Life on the Mississippi, a chapter on modernization, mechanization and how the modern age has changed us, and a series of brilliant short stories with titles such as, "Like a Flock of Ducks", "Conscience" and "Numbers in the Dark".

Oh Professors

Ah, what entertainment they provide us with, each and every day. For instance, both my professors today wore birkenstocks; one accompanied by hiking socks, nontheless.

Isn't it Funny

Not being able to sleep can be cured by two things: getting up and finding something to eat, or pulling Stuart out from under the bed and searching files until some hidden early Capernwray photos are located. Being a person who so loves laying in bed - the longer the better - I reached under my bed.
And this is what I found.


It's like before and after photos. Not quite, but close.

Time's Almost Up

As the words "I'd better get some good sleep in cos school starts monday" slipped out of my mouth, it hit like a sack of books that my attempts to conquer the Summer Reading List 2006 is over.
The results are not as grim as some years, though not very impressive. Perhaps I set my goal too high. Perhaps that is not possible.

The Completed:

The Count of Monte Christo, Dumas
The Abolition of Man, Lewis
Reading Lolia in Tehran, Nafisi
More Work for the Undertaker, Allingham
One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, Solzhenitsyn
Carry On, Jeeves, Wodehouse
Remains of the Day, Ishiguro

The Nearly Completed:

The Confessions of St Augustine, Augustine
The Idiot, Dostoyevsky
Dubliners, Joyce

Those Words

...Contrite. What does contrite mean? Who even knows? It's one of those words. Like zeal. And that other word - what was it? [five minutes later]: diligently. Did you say persistently? I think it's the same thing.

Okay, either christianese is encompassing a whole new level of words these days, or the public school system is not teaching vocabulary. The above was the not quite verbatim discourse of a few of my jr hiers tonight. They came up with maybe five more words of similar caliber a couple minutes later that I unfortunately cannot now recall. Equally as easy to define while not quite fitting for daily conversations around the lunch table or at recess. I guess.

Stuck in My Head

It's amazing what you hear over and over and over and over while you're babysitting.
Yes, I am posting song lyrics. Don't read them unless you want to be transported to Scotland and green rolling hills and cute accents and memories of castles and sheep poo and Nessie.


By yon bonnie banks, and by yon bonnie braes,
Where the sun shines bright, on Loch Lomond
Where me and my true love, were ever wont to gae,
On the bonnie bonnie banks, of Loch Lomond

Oh ye'll tak' the high road An’ I'll tak' the low road
And I'll be in scotland afore ye
For me and my true love will never meet
Again on the bonnie bonnie banks of Loch Lomond

We'll meet where we parted, in yon shady glen
On the steep steep side, of Ben Lomond
Where in purple hue, the hie-lands we view
And the moon looks out, frae the gloamin’

Still fair is the scene, but ah! how changed
Are the hopes that we fondly cherished
Like a wa-t'ry gleam, like a morning dream
On Cul-lo-dens field, they ha'e per-rished

The wild flowers spring, and the wee birds sing
And in sun-shine the waters, are sleepin’
But the broken heart, a kens nae second spring
And re-sign'd we may be, tho' we're greetin’

Where To Start

This was quite nearly another photoblog. But I am entirely too lazy at this moment in time. Though I am rested. A full (though interrupted) eight hours of sleep, combined with a mug of coffee results in my brain actually working without pain. Another highlight of the morning would be that I didn't wake up with the residual unpleasantness of a stress dream. A school stress dream as yesterday. Which is most likely the reason that I am even bothering to sit and guess four times in a row what my password is for the PSU website and why what I *swear* is my password isn't working. It worked. Now it has come to my attention that three out of four of my professors are male this term. I have had one male professor at PSU. Man, I have a sweet schedule. Today I have a sweet schedule, too. I work at 1pm and have youth after that. I'm so excited to see this new batch of jr hiers. Jr Hi is such a unique time of life. It can be so exciting and be such a great time of learning and growth. Or it can just be tormenting. I'm really excited to be able to help make it the former. This week also includes a lot of work and hanging out with Josh. But not Rose. She has left us. Well, I did hang out with Rose one day this week, and that was fantastic. But now she is a few hours away. That's okay, though. She will have lots of fun and come visit often (*hint wink*). Two years ago today it was I that left the fair city of Portland. And here I sit, still excited about the prospects of eating fresh fruit every day. Granted, the rest of my thinking, life, friends, relationship with God, have changed, but that is what is important at this very second. Also at this moment I am sort of wishing that I was posting photos of the past week which was so much fun I want no one left out. Not to mention Megan and Janice (lovely, dear hostesess) would like to have some of the photos. I would like to have some breakfast. Patience is a virtue - you'll get your photos in a bit.

Faces of Lovelies