We hide our hearts from harder times

Visit me here!

2010-02-06T12:37:00.001-06:00

I've started a new blog for my semester in Padova! (Just in case anyone reads this one who doesn't already know.) It's here--> http://sofloatingmany.wordpress.com/

The Countdown

2009-12-28T23:23:00.002-06:00

A month from right now, I'll be in Padova, Italy (hopefully asleep--it's six thirty in the morning there!) ...wow. That's all I can think, is, wow. Last night as I was lying in bed trying to fall asleep I realized that in one short month I'd be on a jumbo jet to Rome, or maybe the connection to Venice? Holy crap. It just doesn't compute with my life right here, right now.

Right now, I'm hanging out with Mandy who's in town for a while. Tonight we went to see Avatar in 3D (it was great); we had a beer at Blueberry Hill before the movie. That was the sum total of our excitement for the day.

I haven't done anything to get ready for this trip since I mailed my passport to Boston some weeks ago. I haven't spoken Italian in close to a month, or even listened to it, for that matter! My room's a mess, and I have no idea what I'm going to take. All these thoughts were swirling around my head as I lay there last night, willing sleep to overtake me.

I know it's going to be hard, really hard, but so, so fun, too. I'm really excited, just really nervous too. I've never lived anywhere but here, never lived more than a fifteen minute drive from the house I grew up in! But, at the same time, I am so excited. I can't believe it sometimes, even. I'm going to live in Italy! For five months!

Wow.

Oh, Wallgreens

2009-11-16T21:50:00.003-06:00

Why do you make such lousy scans of my beautiful pictures? And why, come to think of it, don't I have my own scanner? Ah, well; that's life.

And these are photos from my beautiful film camera, which I've discovered captures a beautiful quality of light and makes great images if I use it right.

A couple more are up on flickr; more coming soon! (I hope.)

2763 words

2009-11-04T01:21:00.002-06:00

I'm only 2,240 words behind where I should be, that's not bad, right? Maybe I'll go to a write-in next weekend and try to catch up/get ahead. Also, do all my homework.

I love NaNoWriMo, but this November's pretty hard in terms of schoolwork (and motivation), which then makes writing a novel in 30 days a lot harder. Also, I have more of a plot idea then last year, but no idea how to move from one part of it to another. Another pro for the "winging it" column?

Thinking of getting a new tattoo...

2009-11-03T21:49:00.001-06:00

stars, originally uploaded by black_cinnamon.

I love love love these stars (not to mention the cute shoes!) but I don't really think I want my first 2 tattoos to be below my calves. That's setting a weird precedent, I think.

2009-11-03T21:22:00.001-06:00

Voglio andare a Padova...

2009-10-30T23:53:00.003-05:00

IT'S been so long my fingers have forgotten how to type "blogger." I'd like to say I've been in an introspective place, absorbing what's around me and trying to make sense of it, but it's not true. I never really get past the absorbing part, to be honest.

I've just been hell of busy.

Five purely academic course (no art=boo-hoo), one that meets every day at NINE AM, trying not to get burnt out and sleeping have been my life. (Plus, that absorbing-beautiful-things bit.) But this won't be my life for so much longer....

Today I reserved my spot on the group flight to Venice by way of Rome. We leave from JFK int'l airport on Jan 28 (which is in under three months!) and it will be:
a. the longest flight I've ever been on
b. my first-ever trip to Europe
c. the first time I've lived outside of St. Louis
d. completely awesome
e. perhaps a good excuse to hang out in NYC for a few days before I leave? (I love this city...)
f. going to school in a foreign language.
g. eating, breathing, chatting, sleeping, dreaming? in a foreign language until it becomes a lot less foreign.
h. taking a lot of pictures
i. missing people
j. meeting new people!

I could go on, but J seems a good place to stop. I've been thinking about the second-to-last one quite a lot. When two of my best friends went abroad, they kept blogs semi-regularly to keep in touch with their friends and loved ones, and share the experience. It was a great idea, and I'd like to do it too. What I'm waffling about is whether to do it here, and just add to the random inanity, or start a new blog specifically for Italy. Starting over from scratch could mean a new blogger blog, or maybe a tumblr? I have one, which I could very well re-purpose into an "adventures in italy" sort of thing....

other things:
--i taught myself to knit last week!
--sunday is the first day of NaNoWriMo. am i ready?
--not failing any classes, yet.
--haven't read for fun lately, :(
--a picture! of my home now.

It's all Sufjan Stevens' fault

2009-09-09T22:57:00.003-05:00

I was sitting there, innocently minding my business and doing my assigned reading (which an astute observer might notice is in Middle English. Why this should be so is anybody's guess, but I take it as meaning I don't have to do the most in-depth reading.) AnyWAY, I was listening to music because music is good and Sufjan Stevens' Chicago starts playing. All of a sudden I'm inspired; I'd been considering my need for a bookmark for my huge "course packet."

So I grab some paper and start with the lyric that had inspired me. Next came a VW Microbus (it just had to be done) and a sign pointing to Chicago. Which I now realize was silly, because he sings "I drove to New York/ in my van, in my van," but it's too late to change. And the chorus filled itself in behind this little scene, ending on "go" which led to arrows; meanwhile, I'm listening to other songs from the same mix & All You Need is Love and India.Arie's I Am Not My Hair make their way in their.

The positive aspect of all this? There's still room for more!

Moved

2009-08-23T08:53:00.002-05:00

It was really weird editing this last night, because I'd glance up and see the exact same thing in real life.

I'm mostly moved (except for some shelving I'm liberating from my room at home) and mostly unpacked (don't have enough shelving, right?). Yesterday was exhausting, and today we're going to Six Flags. More fun, more exhaustion. I'm excited!

Snapshots of my week

2009-08-21T23:50:00.004-05:00

With my typical habit of rushing headlong and gung-ho at new ideas, I've decided to do a yearlong photo project. It worked for NaNoWriMo, right? So I've taken (at least) one (decent?) photo a day for the last 7 days, futzed with most of them in PhotoShop, and posted them on flickr. Being crafty and wanting to get something out of this more tangible than just the habit of shooting more often, I'm pondering making a book out of them after the year's done. Or as I go, if I can be organized enough. So here are some of them so far.

(Montag's been helping me pack.)

[This post written using time I don't have, stolen from my sleep-time.]

"Night View of Electric Fountain"

2009-08-16T21:52:00.003-05:00

I still need to post Day 3 of my incredible NYC trip, but I was stumbling around flickr and found this:

[by mod as hell, here.]

I had to post it, of course. It's just beautiful.

Memories in grayscale: Day 2 of a love affair

2009-08-14T22:25:00.002-05:00

Exhausted from the first day of our trip, we spent the morning spectating Greenwich Village and SoHo. We had planned to actually get out of the car and walk around, but Dad was doing such a good job at driving in crazy New York traffic, and we were so unenthused by the idea of walking more after the whirlwind of day 1. So we drove around, seeing Washington Square Park, and all the NYU buildings (be still, my heart!) with their purple banners waving joyfully in the breeze. Eventually we parked the car and ate a quick lunch before the girls and the boys went our separate ways.
The girls went to MoMA, with its lovely sculpture garden and huge amounts of gallery space FULL of everything. My favorite exhibit (of the tiny percentage we saw) was Roman Ondàk's Measuring the Universe, below.
You can't tell by looking at it, but it's a performance piece, of sorts. MoMA staff measures gallery visitors all along the walls, a là measuring the kids on the bathroom wall. (That's where we did it, anyway; I've heard the kids' bedroom is a good spot, too.) The piece created this incredible impression when we walked in of being a distant landscape of some sort, a horizon line around the room.
After MoMA, we wandered around on Fifth Avenue, eventually finding ourselves in Central Park South watching breakdancers and waiting to meet up with Dad and the bro. I took some pictures of the scenery. We had delicious Thai for dinner; it was a great day.

New York, Day 5

2009-08-11T21:51:00.005-05:00

So I didn't actually take either of these pictures. :( I looted them from my mom's camera to make her a GREAT birthday present (which is almost done, I hope).
My brother really wanted to go the the Apple Store, because he's sort of become a Mac junkie. And I can't say I protested--at all--because he gets it from me. The store was incredible. It pretty much epitomized Apple as a brand, sleek and cutting edge while user friendly. It was huge, which as I'd been finding out, was important to accommodate the inconceivable numbers of New York residents. And it was shiny, and rather like most other Apple stores I've been in, once you were underground. Well, except that it was easily 5 times the size of the store in my mall.
After our Apple store-sightseeing, we went to the Cloisters because a good friend of mine's interning there. We didn't get to spend much time with her, but the museum was incredible. I've never considered myself a huge fan of medieval art (perhaps because so much of it is religious, and I'm not a big fan of most religious art, aesthetically) but I loved it. There was a lot of decorative art (which I love), and some pieces simply depicting life. And the Cloisters themselves were stunning and inviting.

And then we left. Left the Cloisters, left the city, left the state. We spent wayyy too long in Pennsylvania, but were still in Ohio before the day was done. And the next day we were home.

And now I can't stop thinking about wanting to live there.

Day 4 of a love affair (days 2 & 3 to be added later)

2009-08-06T22:14:00.004-05:00

Liberty and Ellis Islands are a package deal--though going up in the Statue of Liberty costs extra--so we spent the morning island-hopping. So to speak. Seeing Lady Liberty in person was fun, but I was much more excited about Ellis.
My great-great-grandparents came to the country through Ellis Island early in the 1900s, and (maybe?) so did my great-grandma Dora, who fled Poland during the Holocaust. I was surprised at how ornate the building is, especially for a government building. The museum inside was incredible, but we didn't get to stay long. We found our relatives' (forebearers seems too stuffy, ancestor inappropriate for someone who died 4, maybe 5 years ago) names on the "wall." It's a collection of wall-segments, actually, arcs arranged into a circle on the lawn with names of donors' predecessors. My grandpa, when he heard about this wall fundraiser to improve the Ellis Island museum, organized donations from much of the family--the names on the wall is a side benefit.
After we got off the ferry from Ellis, we took the subway to get on another boat, this time for a three-hour cruise around Manhattan. Our tour guide was fantastic--he knew everything about the city! We went under 18 bridges, and I took so many pictures through the windows.
I was surprised at how small the island seems from the outside, given how huge Manhatan seems while you're there. It's just so crowded that it feels like it ought to be bigger, I guess.

The Bronx is up and the Batery's down

2009-08-05T23:09:00.003-05:00

They don't tell you that inside of this sky-scraping, spaceship-topped landmark, the decor is marble. In the focus on the view from the top, nobody notices this beauty that reminds us of a different time, a different style.
Granted, the view from the observation decks is incredible--it's overwhelming with the wind whipping your hair and the touch of vertigo from looking down off the 86th floor. You can stand and look out over all of Manhattan, off in one direction to Hoboken and its skyscrapers, or to Brooklyn and Queens. The city never stops; its 5 million people of every sort, each with his or her own agenda give it the illusion that everyone is doing everything all at once and always.The sheer quantities require a faster pace than you'll find here in the midwest. You have to be aggressive with traffic, or you'll never get anywhere. You can't have problems siting with strangers on buses and trains--or with standing--and you can't stroll anywhere. Well, maybe in Central Park--if you're not jogging!

A child of the midwest, I should've been completely overwhelmed, way out of my league. Or at least had a bit of distaste for the pollution, and the population, and the general lack of courtesy, like my sister. But I so wasn't. I was nothing short of intoxicated.

New York was incredible

2009-07-31T17:03:00.003-05:00

I fell in love with it. (And am still exhausted from our crazy schedule!)

(taken from the Empire State Building)

Last minute wekend getaway

2009-07-19T22:01:00.004-05:00

Not pictured: floating the Meramec, swimming and spelunking on the Jack's Fork, cooking lots of yummy impromptu food, the night sky of tiny white sparkles on black satin, marshmallow-creme clouds, utter relaxation.

Sometimes there are people

2009-07-18T11:26:00.002-05:00

Something about this image really appeals to me; I think it's the colors and the contrast. In my mind, they take on an almost-abstract quality and the subject becomes secondary. Compare to the one below, which I like because it has fire. This is what happens when college students get together, I guess. At least, the ones I know.

This is how my life feels right now...

2009-07-12T09:56:00.002-05:00

It's not a recent picture by any means, but it feels very evocative of my days recently: messy and all over the place.

2009-07-08T22:27:00.000-05:00

See that light? That's where I was today.

Gardens

2009-07-07T22:36:00.002-05:00

Gardens are peaceful places; you can easily lose yourself in one if you try. The facade of a garden, that it is a seemless blend of wild and tamed, lures the most wary, the most cynical. Within its confines, the garden holds sway over your heart and soul, delighting and calming you 'til you are at peace.

Featuring: Blake!

2009-07-05T12:28:00.002-05:00

Blake turned 1 this past Friday.

Blake had a pool party for his birthday.

Blake enjoys having his picture taken, and has the cutest dimply smile.

Not a picture of a flower

2009-07-01T19:48:00.002-05:00

My town. The small famous portion of it, that is. And nevermind that this was shot just past the limits, in the city.

Some more film

2009-06-30T14:21:00.002-05:00

Pictures of spring, now that it's summer. Mostly just experimenting with my aged film camera. :D

Film

2009-06-24T23:18:00.000-05:00

Well, go get that film developed, silly!

2009-06-06T21:59:00.003-05:00

Shooting more film (yay!) is making me go back through some of my older digital photos, looking for the good ones, the fun ones, the ones worthy of printing? It's a fun diversion from organizing (technically it is "organizing") and hanging out with my family.

Still to-do (and to-begin) this summer:
-bike! As in, get competent on one.
-um, finish cleaning/organizing this sty of a room.
-think about where to go while in Italy. (Continue crossing fingers!)
-and so on.
-Enjoy summer! Take pictures!

Happy June!

2009-06-04T16:10:00.004-05:00

This is Bartok the puppy, named for both the adorable bat from Anastasia and the Hungarian composer (in that order). We got him a week and a half ago, to fill the gaping hole in our lives of something that often nips our fingers and pees on the floor. Of course, when he's napping, there's neither nipping nor whining and it almost lulls us into a false sense that we have a grown-up, fully-trained dog. But a-ha! Then 8 o'clock comes around and he's wild. Equal parts silly and dumb, he's entirely adorable and drives us bonkers. I don't remember training our last dog at all, and the one before that predated me. And! He makes the kittens nervous.

In other news, a brief recap:

We went to the ballpark on the 22nd as part of a school district fundraiser. It was a beautiful night for a ballgame, and the Cards shut out the Royals. A good night altogether.
Last weekend I went to both my aunt's birthday party at this cute little Brazilian cafe and to the Decemberists concert at the Pageant. I don't have pictures from either, but the concert was tons of fun. I'd highly recommend seeing them in concert to anyone who'd care to listen, and would see them over and over--even doing the same show (half of which consisted entirely of their newest album, Hazards of Love, played front-to-back). It was terribly exciting!

And right now I'm making Belgian Brownies from smittenkitchen.com; haven't baked in about a week. But I've cooked a fair bit, dinner and some lunches for mom & I after work. Sort of like being a grown-up.

Coming soon... FILM! (Right after I get it developed, that is!)

Baking and Cleaning and Kittens, oh my!

2009-05-14T23:33:00.004-05:00

I was reading all about baking bread over at Smitten Kitchen, this cooking blog that I just fell in love with, and it inspired me to make some French bread yesterday. The author, Deb, has these lovely pictures and every single one of her recipes makes me drool and think hmmm, how many times a week will they let me bake/cook/etc?. I've been reading a ridiculous number of cooking and baking 'blogs lately, actually, and am excited to make pork steaks on Saturday. But this is about my bread!
I made two baby loaves of bread and they were sooo cute, and soooooo tasty! It was the first time I'd made bread in years, and the first "grownup" recipe. (One of my myriad kids' cookbooks--the one with the delicious apple pie--had recipes for a couple kinds of bread in it. Pretty cool, right?) I got the recipe by googling "French Bread recipes," from steamykitchen.com but was definitely only competent at making it because of Deb's tips.
Shaping the loaves was the hardest, and they're not exactally perfect, but they tasted SO GOOD still warm from the oven with our steaks last night that it didn't even matter. And while they were baking I was inspired to run around the backyard and take photos! I'd share, but I was being artsy and shooting film (the good news? I finished a roll and now know what kind of film is in my camera!), so not today.
I swear I'm not just cooking, despite having photos to the contrary (I wish!). It's just that the other thing I'm doing is cleaning. Not very photogenic. Or fun. But it has to get done, all of those things from the Univ have to come back into the house, and I'm trying to streamline everything and organize as it all gets merged. So that hopefully moving out next fall will be easier (decision-wise), as will moving back. Packing for Italy, of course, will be a nightmare. It's not like I can take a dozen and a half Pepperidge Farm boxes in two car trips for the semester, but then again, it's not just a vacation. Maybe I should buy some luggage. Anyway, cleaning's coming along nicely, with the occasional bit of cute:
The kittens would have you believe they're helping.

Mmm, cupcakes!

2009-05-11T22:30:00.005-05:00

In amidst cleaning my room and trying to unpack, I made the time to bake cupcakes for our Mothers' Day picnic yesterday. Rather than surveying all the mothers we were honoring (G'ma Grace, G'ma Calla, Aunt Lauren, Jen, and my Mom) I let Mom chose what kind we should have.
Her favorite kind of cake is German Chocolate, but at least one person in my family doesn't like coconut or pecans, the main components of its frosting, so a compromise was reached! I baked Martha Stewart's One-Bowl Chocolate Cupcakes, which are what you think of when you think "chocolate cupcake." Nothing fancy, but hello, they're chocolate! They were a little less rich than when I've made them before, because I used regular cocoa (like the recipe calls for) instead of dark (which I put into everything I can). But I didn't want them to overpower the frosting...
I frosted about a third of them with a coconut-pecan frosting which is INCREDIBLY delicious. My favorite part of making this was roasting the pecans (and eating the extras!) because they smelled so good. I kept the extra frosting & we put it on some of the other cupcakes, with the chocolate frosting--yum.
It was great fun, and with 13 people at the picnic we didn't have many left over! We finished the last 6 or so today, leaving me free to bake again tomorrow if I wanted. ;) Though with the state of my cleaning/organizing project, who knows how likely that is. I am hoping to make this lemon/strawberry sorbet, regardless of my lack of ice cream maker. Maybe I'll shoot some more tomorrow; there aren't many pics from the picnic because I'm shooting film again, on my old Pentax K1000. It makes me smile. But, more lag time before I get to see the images. A fair tradeoff.

summer goals

2009-05-03T12:57:00.003-05:00

-shoot film. well, shoot more, and as part of that, shoot film.
-bake lots of fun and exciting things. make truffles again?
-read: some or all of the unread books on my shelf, Harry Potter e la Pietra Filosofale, Sei personaggi in cerca d'autore, some Derrida maybe.
-rewrite that novel.
-save $$ for Italy.
-hang out with people-remember WUSTL friends who are staying in town.

City Museum

2009-04-30T01:31:00.003-05:00

scrapyard rejects find new life here; so do middleaged middle americans.
old things become new; rebar is bent and twisted and welded to...something else, to grace a recycled stairway with a bauble necklace.
dragons become roofs, or roofs become dragons,
far below the airplane pigeon roosts. lace made of steel dances through the sky
high above the castle, the firetruck, the slide made from a tuba (maybe).
running, bouncing, playing and climbing,
the scene is full of activity, full of families playing chase and friends following the leader.
there's enough to look at to be entertained for hours standing still
(not that anyone could stand still here, with things begging to be climbed)
...and that's just the outside.

the photo portion of the evening

2009-04-29T00:43:00.005-05:00

From the balcony of Art Prom, at Windows off Washington:

(I like the masses of lights. It's never really dark in the city.)

The only pictures I took in Iowa:

All three were right after we had gotten there, outside my cousins' house.

&,
Spring!

I went to Iowa.

2009-04-28T14:42:00.002-05:00

-It didn't rejuvenate my photography.
-I met a lot of really nice people.
-I cried in public places, and at least once my family didn't know why. They thought they did.
-My aunt and uncle make friends like family, so every event was warm and welcoming.
-That's the feeling I think of when I think of "community."
-I thought some interesting thoughts; my uncle's a weird guy.
-Instead of playing "Jewish edition" Apples-to-Apples I talked about literature and politics with Uncle Jake and Nick and managed to sound the most like a coherent adult I did all weekend (with a glass of wine and a "l'chaim" in me).
-I've been to parties where, even though everyone who's there are friends of the same family, nobody will sit down and talk to someone new. This wasn't one of those. I chatted with everyone in the house both Friday and Saturday nights, and met everyone at least once.
-Des Moines has a lot of strip malls.
-Shirah is an incredible person; I (almost) cannot believe it. Part of me wants to be her when I grow up, and she's only 13. Just, wow.
-Both of those girls, really. I don't know where my "little" cousins have gone or who replaced them, but these new and improved versions are really something.

Man. I need to be taking more pictures.

2009-04-20T20:35:00.004-05:00

I promise to take the Pentax to Des Moines this weekend!

Until I do more work and can play more, I leave you with my good friend,
the tooth fairy. She was hopelessly blurred and all I could do was make it seem intentional. (But I don't think it worked.)

The joys of being an upperclassman

2009-04-16T10:05:00.008-05:00

...and other such musings on life.

[I always want these posts to have a subtitle, I don't know why.]
Today I registered for my classes. Just now, actually--I signed on at 10.oo and was done by 10.01, which is quite remarkable, really. None of my classes were full, and the "Registration Worksheet" that your 4-year advisor makes you do is GREAT. This is one of those few blissful moments where two parts of the same computer system work in perfect harmony together. In advance, on page A you enter in all of your first-choice and all of your second-choice classes on the worksheet, and you can see how they would fit together into a schedule (it looks exactly like the "display schedule" function). So then, on the day of registering, when you've puzzled out "am I going to take economics or printmaking?"--or have put it off 'til the fall, during the drop/add week--you click "register" and what do you get? A screen to input the number for any course ever, and the list below from your worksheet! Plus, when you select one from the worksheet list, it automatically fills in its information, and all you have to do is click "add." It took me literally about a minute to register for 6 classes.

Of course, I'm not actually going to take 20 credits and 6 courses next semester--I'm not that crazy! I feel like I'm barely getting by with the 3 for my major and the 1 for the distribution requirement and the art class (which of course I should be spending more time on) oh and the applying to study in Padua next Spring. It is crunch time.
Next semester breaks down like this:
Not Members of This Club and Physics and Society are two of the very last things I have to do for my general distribution requirements. After them, there will be ONE left--a "writing intensive" course that I can probably find in my dept if need be, or in English, or somewhere exciting. (Dr. Kafalenos suggested I take one in Italian after I come back, if I'm comfortable enough in my abilities. Which is a scary thought.)
Italian Literature II is the only Italian class they're ofering next semester that I could take--haven't taken it yet, isn't taught IN ENGLISH (there's a course on Dante in which they read the work in Italian but discuss it in English. I'm like, what? This would maybe help your translating abilities, but what I'm getting excited about is not having to translate in my head. I'm not going to not take a class wherein I practice speaking Italian the semester before I go to Italy.) And it's for my major because it's a 300-level foreign language class.
History of the English Language is what I'm taking for fun. It's the only class here that doesn't fulfill any requirement, and I'm really excited about it, because I am a total language nerd like that. I loved Bill Bryson's The Mother Tongue: English and How it Got that Way, and my (probably all-time, but let's go with) childhood favorite book, Norton Juster's Phantom Tollbooth is filled with language jokes--well, in-jokes. References? Puns? None (and all) of the above? And some math, but we can forgive that. Read it, if you haven't, is the moral of the story.
Modern Jewish Writers or Elementary Russian will go towards my major. How, you may ask? Because mine is the coolest major, and will let you substitute for one 300- or 400-level comp lit class a beginning language class, in a second foreign language. Why might one want to do this? Because one is a nutjob, and just got done with having to be in her 5-credit language class everyday (twice some days) this semester, but thinks she should do it again because she really wants to learn Russian. Erm, I mean. Um. *Shrugs* What can I say? I've had this bamboozling interest in Russian for a while, and that's as much reason as any to study it (that, and Fyodor Dostoyevsky). Plus, think about it! A new alphabet=yay! As opposed to Italian, which is spoken in 1 country (and maybe some pockets elsewhere, but not many), Russian has this fascinating history with the USSR and is still spoken in some of the former Soviet Republics (I think). And it's only got 3 tenses--think about thinking with only the past, present and the future! I think that's how I think anyway (or, at least, lately. Sigh.) [warning: too much thinking about thinking can lead to brain explosions and not getting much done. also, a fierce desire to write creatively. ditto time.] So, anyway, the Modern Jewish Writers class looks really interesting and fun, but I really want to take Russian, if I think I can handle it.

Listening to: "All for You" by Sister Hazel.
Pandora came up with it, right off the bat, and it made me so happy I needed to share.
[P.S.-I know I promised portraiture, but I've been trying to be a good student, which doesn't include photography. Till then, check out some pics I posted on my flickr awhile back, before I fell into the stresspit.]

wherein jessie likes to take pictures at night, and should photograph people

2009-04-08T19:39:00.007-05:00

I had been to this really cool lecture, instead of Inklings (this was wayyy back on 25 Mar), and was walking home across campus at something in the neighborhood at 10 o'clock. It was after DST, but still early in the year, so it was fully dark outside save for the lanterns' glow. The night air was gentle and crisp, warm enough to be moist but cool enough to think that said moisture would soon be dew. The air quality was just heavenly, and as I walked across the deserted campus I seemed to be in a dream. So instead of hurrying back to my homework, I mosey'd, camera in hand. Flash ignored, I tried to capture the quality and texture of the air my eyes were seeing and bare arms were feeling. And I think I was pretty successful, looking back at the photos; they're very evocative to me of that sort of nighttime feeling.

I've realized that I really enjoy walking through the night, which is something that I never really considered before coming to college. When you drive, walking at night consists of walking to the car and then from the car to your destination; but here, I have no car and no option to drive to class or from a meeting. Walking is it, and my love of the night air has really hit home. Looking back on it, I realize that I've always felt this way about it--how the night air, especially in the spring and the fall, feels and smells and tastes. It's one of the more perfect things to me, especially when gently lit by the orange glow of lanterns. (For this, LED and compact florescent bulbs and I have never gotten along; their color is all wrong.) And I remember back to my childhood, to being at home with the windows open and smelling that fresh cool air through the metalic twang of the screen. Better when a storm is brewing and the air is heavy with humidity, bringing out all the fresh smells of the soil, the grass, and the flowers, all smelled through the familiar twang of the screen.

In the orange glow of the lanterns, these cute mini-daffodils were so beautiful and adorable. I walk past them everyday, but it was like seeing them for the first time.

Next time on "Jessie posts photos (and gets really loquacious)":
-I realize that I take portraits horizontally, write "Take portraits the other way 'round!" on my hand, and attmept to take pictures of people so that the frame lines up roughly with the proportions of the human body (that is to say, vertically).
The attempt lasts three days.

It cracks me up every time

2009-04-04T17:34:00.001-05:00

"Were there just the two of you?"

"Well, and the chicken, your highness."

Jessie dances to recordings of poetry

2009-03-26T18:44:00.001-05:00

As found here.

e.e. cummings, anyone? Let's rock out.

This blog is presented to you in Georgia. (Not, surprisingly, Times, the most famous of the serif fonts.)

2009-03-24T01:33:00.008-05:00

I've been making a lot of lists lately; otherwise I fear my mind will completely dissipate, and then where would we be? They range from the specific "this is what I need to graduate" sort, to the nebulous and free-form "here's what I did today and want to do tomorrow." [That one included the entries "sit in the sun" and "smile."] My currently operational list is far less, shall we say, telling. It begins,
falegname- carpenter
lettori- readers
castasta- pile
stufe- stove
caminetti- fireplaces
and it's written on a map of the US torn from my planner. This is a list of convenience and of necessity, for I don't really know as much Italian (especially the vocabulary) as I should. Or as I think I should; maybe I'm supposed to be doing this and learning a lot of new words. I do know that this novel (Pinocchio) is written in a dialect, but I don't think that really excuses my ignorance of all these words. I somehow doubt that only the Tuscans use "caminetto" for fireplace.
The list on my hand is getting out of control; it expanded to my palm this afternoon, for a direct progression of "First, eat. Then, homework. ecc." Because where was the room for any of that on a hand covered in Sharpie-purple and faded inkpen-purple ink which reads,
MAY 1 Making Light
JUNE 1 Mon, 4, Hurst
PASSATO $5
REMOTO! Steve
wordnik
print compasizione
Clive
Ridgley 310
AYP's?
email Mom
8:15-11:30
And that brings us to the base of my thumb, so no more list. [I had fun making those different colors and sizes, and spacing them almost like my hand. Now imagine it's in my handwriting...]

The final list of the night: Things I Have Geeked Out Over Today
-I went to a lecture called "Dictionaries are broken (so let's fix them)" by Erin McKean, who's
a lexicographer, and it was so much fun. Because I love words, the end.
-Um. I think that's it, actually. I just wanted to talk about the lecture about words. I spent a little bit of time enjoying being outside, but I'm pretty sure that doesn't count as geeking out. So, yeah. Just the words then.

Scratch Art?

2009-03-16T00:29:00.003-05:00

I asked him to smile for a picture as we were all sitting around waiting for our ice cream, and he gives me a dutiful "Yes, Jessie" sort of smile--cute, though, but the flash is off and it's too yellowy anyway. So I ask him to smile again (with the flash on this time!) and he gives me a very bored "whatever" sort of grin, and I snap a picture or two before nudging my brother to tickle him. Perfect! We have an actual kid-smile on a kid-face. The only problem is that the autofocus on the camera chose his ear to focus on, I guess because it's towards the center of the frame, so the whole left side of his face is a bit out of focus. I'm working on making it seem like that was intentional, though, or doing something where it's not an issue. Like this.

He is a cutey, that cousin of mine.

Spring break was really unproductive--I mean, I did work with mom and dad and make some $$, but that was it. I didn't do any of the homework I had, or anything creative, or read for fun. I did go spend half a day at the high school with my old art teacher, who's retiring at the end of the year, boo hoo! My biggest accomplishment? Making contact sheets in Photoshop of all of the pictures I've taken with my Pentax. And I made half a batch of Hamentashen. Having a migraine since Monday was just not good for me. Then again, when is it? Argh. The Topamax is working, I think, because the last four months before I started taking it were really long, really bad migraines, and the last few haven't been. They've not even been very painful, but (especially this month) I just feel like crap. Incredible exhaustion and lethargy, sporadic nausea, weird vision things. Not a lot of fun, and really hard to make myself do any work during.

Goals for the next week:
Only use the internet for Email and weather M-F until homework's done. (Yes, really. If something's really pressing on Facebook, I'll respond, but that's it.)
Turn in composizione on time! (Monday, by afternoonish?)
Clean room.
Get all homework done for all classes, and start on Essay 3 for lit.
Don't be too jealous of Mom and Mike, who are probably on the train to Napoli right now.
Really, don't use the internet except for email and weather in the morning, and email ONCE or TWICE in the afternoon/evening. (This includes Pandora, sadly, until I learn some self-control.)
Get rid of this stupid migraine (as though I have any say in the matter.)
Go to city hall, the bank, and call pat f. (Do what the hand says!)

Oy.

Slow down, you crazy child

2009-02-25T17:43:00.003-06:00

...you're so ambitious for a juvenile.

It's a lovely song, sort of melancholy and slow, but it makes me happy all the same. (Usually.) Maybe that's just because Billy Joel's got such an incredible voice, even the sad songs are a pleasure to listen to.
(The above's from "Vienna.")
...

I can't muster the energy to study for my Earth and the Environment midterm. Tiredness that's been plaguing me for a couple of weeks + disappointment = incredible lack of motivation. Especially for non-major courses--hm, would ya look at that. This leads us to

MAJOR DISAPPOINTMENT OF THE WEEK: I was, erm, "not accepted" into the Co-op for next year [they were too polite? wimpy? to use the appropriate term--rejected--in the form-letter rejection]. So know I don't know where I'm living next year, AND I have to decide soon. Really soon. Add to, y'know, complete overwhlemsion with two midterms this week and a major paper due next Tuesday, plus GrandCaye's coming into town this weekend. And most of my friends (if not all) already know where and with whom they're living next year. I just can't deal with this right now, but there's very little "later."

Sigh, is all.

A Drinking Song, by Yeats

2009-02-15T12:50:00.001-06:00

Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.

2009-02-13T14:46:00.004-06:00

I'm trying to come up with a new tattoo design, featuring a pomegranate (I'm a little obsessed with the tasty goomers!) so I just spent quite a while pulling like 2 dozen images off the 'net. We'll see what happens there; I'm thinking of getting it sort of on the front of my shoulder, right where it would be visible in a tank top or halter, but not in anything work-appropriate. But I'm not sure I want to use that space for this idea. Just toying with the idea.

(Not my photo)

Looks tasty!

Valentine's Day

2009-02-12T20:20:00.003-06:00

or, I love Mandy!
Meaning, really, that I set up this "following" bi'ness just for her. <3

In other news, and speaking of love, I adore Nathan Lane. So much, and for so many reasons. XD

2009-02-04T04:52:00.001-06:00

Is it bad to lust after the contents of williams-sonoma.com?

Yeah, probably. But I really really want a kitchen, and if I'm dreaming, I might as well dream in technicolor, right?

For my science class we could write an essay or do a creative project

2008-12-08T02:20:00.003-06:00

This is mine:

The Arrogance of Technology

Huddled against the biting winds of the late-February snowstorm, Pa did not stop to take pride in the low sod house he approached, as was his wont. Finished just before the wintry weather had set in the previous November, he usually indulged himself in a brief moment spent appreciating the warmth and shelter the thick sod walls provided his family, but on this day his mind was occupied with getting inside to warm his hands and feet at the large kitchen stove he had installed the week prior. He paused just outside the door to the small homestead, shaking the snow off his boots before entering the warm kitchen. Pulling off his gloves and hat, he crossed the small room to stand beside the potbellied stove.

“Hello, Ma,” he said to his wife, busily preparing the dinner.

“You’re late,” she scolded him by way of greeting.

“It must be ten below out there already, with the sun not half down,” he replied conversationally, ignoring her reprimand. “And it’s begun to snow, though not real hard. I do believe we shall have half a foot by morning.” Before she could reply, the door burst open and in stumbled their children, faces flushed bright red from the cold. The two shed their outer clothes as they migrated toward the fire.

“I’m so glad we’ve this new stove,” fourteen-year-old Emma said. “Our old one was so small, one had to stand before it for nearly a quarter of a hour before the chill left one’s hands, but this new one warms you right up!”

“Winter’s blustery frost is no match for this fine piece of technology,” her father stated boldly, and William, Jr. agreed fervently.

“Imagine if we didn’t have it,” the eleven-year-old said. “The cold wouldn’t leave our bones properly ’til July.” The family shared a laugh and proceeded to enjoy a quiet evening together in the warm comfort of their home.

The next day began with a crystalline blue sky and slightly warmer weather as Pa and the children left for town. They walked together through the light snowfall for half a mile, until Pa reached his shop. Wishing the children a good day, he left them to walk the quarter mile to the schoolhouse alone, as they did every morning. The morning began routinely, but mid-morning howling winds had arisen. Pa looked out the front window of his general store worriedly and saw a massive black bank of clouds approaching from the west. Experience told him that this was no ordinary storm; it had sprung up far too quickly. His first thought was for his wife, alone in the sod house and certainly terrified, but as the storm blew fiercely into town, his mind flew to the children in the schoolhouse. In addition to his own, there were eighteen others between the ages of 6 and 16. He knew he had to find a way to help them, but did not know how.

When the blizzard hit the town, panic set in amongst the schoolchildren. The youngest ran to and fro about the room, mumbling incomprehensibly and the eldest ones attempted to tell the new teacher what to do. With all the hubbub in the room, the schoolmistress, barely older than her eldest students, found herself overwhelmed, momentarily unable to figure out what to do. Refusing to let herself succumb to the student’s panic, she slapped her ruler against her desk, a call for attention. Everyone except the very youngest child, six-year-old Bobby Miller, fell silent. Emma rushed to shush the crying Bobby, picking him up and telling him that everything would be all right in her most motherly tones.

“We will have order in this school,” Miss Baker announced sternly. “There is no reason to lose our heads panicking,” she added more kindly, seeing the opportunity for a teaching moment. “We can learn from this experience, as we can from every experience. Can anybody tell me what this type of storm is called?” Various hands shot up amongst the schoolchildren, too distracted by the new challenge to remember to panic. She pointed absently at one as her mind raced with possibilities for getting them out of the potentially fatal schoolhouse. She had realized immediately that the schoolhouse could not sustain so many for long enough to outlast the storm.

“It is a blizzard,” he told her proudly. She smiled and nodded, and pulled any other bits of information the children knew about blizzards from them gradually. It turned out that they knew all there was to know about them, that they were unpredictable, that the best thing to do in one was to outlast it indoors, and that they could be fatal.

“But many ingenious individuals figure out how to survive them. Does anyone know about the terrible blizzard of 1888?” All the children shook their heads. “Just five short years ago, a terrible blizzard hit our state, worse even than this one,” she told them, praying that history would not disprove her. “Many people were trapped in schools and in stores. One young teacher, Miss Minnie Freeman, was stranded with her students in a schoolhouse far from anything else. Realizing that they had neither the firewood nor the provisions to outlast the storm, she decided to lead her children through the blizzard to her boarding house, nearly a mile away.” All of the children were stunned into silence by this tale as Miss Baker went to the closet and pulled out a length of rope. “Miss Freeman made sure that no one would get lost in the snow by tying a clothesline around their waists.”

“Is- Is that what we’re going to do?” stuttered little Bobby Miller nervously as the other students looked on in similar astonishment. Miss Freeman smiled kindly at him.

“Yes, it is, Bobby. We cannot stay here, but I am sure we can make it into town. The rope is a precaution, because it is very hard to see in a blizzard.” Addressing everyone, she continued. “I want you all to put on your coats, hats, and gloves. Bundle up as tightly as possible; it is going to be much colder than you expect out there.” She distributed lengths of the cloth kept for quilting lessons to be used as shawls and scarves. Once all the students were ready, she secured the rope around each student methodically, assigning the eldest to the rear so he could help anybody who might stumble. Tying the final end to herself, she addressed the class once more. “All right. We’re going to head into town, to the first shop we see with a fire still burning. We will not be going to anybody’s home until the storm has passed. Understood?” All the students nodded grimly. Face set in determination, Miss Baker turned toward the door.

When she opened the wood-plank door, she was met with what seemed to be a wall of snow and icy winds that seemed to slice right through her. Gritting her teeth, she pushed forward into the thigh-high snow, carving out a path for the students to follow her. She strained her eyes, searching the horizon for any sign of the town ahead—on a clear day, it was possible to see through town to the homesteads on the other side. With the swirling snow, she found it impossible to see even the simple split-log fence lining the road into town; regardless, she struggled the several feet to find it to use as a guide. Silently, determinedly she followed the fence, making slow progress against the onslaught of winds and stopping every few feet to ascertain that her students could catch up. Unable to see any landmarks, she had no way to tell how much progress the class had made, or how soon they might reach the town. She gave up looking ahead, concentrating solely on the fence beside her and the snow just in front of her as the bitter cold slowly sapped her strength.

After an eternity of struggling, Miss Baker began to think she could make out a shadowy figure. She blinked and shook her head as the dark blur seemed to approach the struggling group, wondering if she had gone insane when she heard a man’s voice call out her name. Nobody else could possible be out in this horror of a storm, she told herself, but the figure soon solidified to prove her wrong. He emerged from the thick, billowing snow and Miss Baker’s heart soared. She finally believed the mantra she had been repeating to the children all morning: that they would make it through this ordeal alive. It was Emma and William’s Pa.

“Miss Baker,” he said, shocked to see her. He peered into the storm behind her, able to see just the first child tied to her waist.

“They’re all here, and everyone is all right,” she told him confidently. “Is it far to town?” she then asked anxiously, unsure how much longer she could continue.

“No, not very,” he reassured her, leading her back the way he had come. This part of the journey was considerably easier, as she no longer had to trample a path through the snow. The group made it through the winds to town and gratefully crowded into the warmth of Pa’s shop. His assistant had kept the fire going, and hot cocoa awaited them all upon arrival. Comfortable in the shop, they waited out the storm, which lasted well into the evening and left the town covered in a heavy blanket of snow at least four feet deep. The streets were completely impassable.

The next morning, the sun rose brightly and the industrious homesteaders began to clear paths through the snow. Though many people had been forced to stay in town overnight, Pa was the first on the street with a shovel. He enlisted several of the older students to help him shovel a path out of town to the homesteads. He reached his own sod house and let out a grateful sigh to see it completely intact and smoke coming out of the chimney. He ran in to tell Ma that the children were all right, before continuing with the clean-up effort. Later that evening, once all the townsfolk were safely home, Pa settled in at the dinner table with his family.

“It was really scary,” William told his parents of the children’s adventure. “We would have been stuck in the school house in the cold. We might have died!”

“Yes,” his sister agreed. “The force of that storm…” She shuddered at the memory. Pa sat back, a contemplative look on his face. He had seen more of the damage to the town than had his family.

“The wind blew the roof right off of that schoolhouse. I think you’re right, Will. Thank heavens for Miss Baker, otherwise all of you probably would have frozen to death,” he said grimly.

“Pa,” his wife hissed, a stern reprimand.

“It’s true, Ma, there’s no sense in denying it,” he told her frankly. “There is no way that building could have protected them from the weather.”

(c) 2008 Jessie Sarber

2008-11-20T23:17:00.001-06:00

My suitemates are "discussing" (read: arguing) art philosophy in circles. One, when she gets worked up and speaks about "smart" things and what not, sounds angry and condescending. I don't think she is, but it is really bugging me.

Dance Marathon was so much fun

2008-10-27T18:08:00.003-05:00

We danced with the Chancellor. And each other. For, roughly speaking, forever. Well, 12 hours, in all honesty, and the time flew by. Even when we were exhausted and had random muscle pains, we kept dancing. Endorphins make everything alright. I'm still sore, but it's a good sore.

Looking ahead, I'm going to write a novel next month. It's NaNoWriMo and all, so I thought I'd give it a go. All I need now's a plot! ;)

Photo Contest

2008-10-21T22:37:00.004-05:00

I did enter the U. City Photo Show, which is also a contest, and I... won. Wow, who'd've thought? I wasn't expecting to win "Best of Show," maybe 3rd place or honorable mention or something, but wow. That's pretty cool. Basically the highlight of my weekend/life lately (that and getting to see Lexy) since Galaxy died Wednesday and I've had a migraine for... nine, ten days now? Off and on, but "on" mostly. Not fun.
This was the photo that won. I titled it "River Town," though I believe the pictures are judged title-less, to help with anonymity, I guess.

Missouri likes to name towns after other places.

2008-10-13T17:33:00.006-05:00

Is this some sort of acknowledgment that citizens would rather be living elsewhere? Or an indication of a lack of creativity? I'd believe that. I mean, our most major city was named by French fur traders after their king, Louis XIV--but in the elevated status of "saint," clearly in an effort to get on his good side. I hope it worked out for them. But aside from this, we have quite a list of towns named after various other places in the world.

For example:
Cuba
Louisiana
Mexico
Washington
Pacific
Kansas City
Manchester
California
Savannah
Houston
Normandy
Miami
Oregon
Versailles
Lexington
Richmond (and Richmond Heights. They're more than 200 miles away from each other.)
Salem
Verona
Vienna
Milan

There's also Missouri City, though I guess it's not so odd to name a city after its state given New York City, New York. To be fair, though, not all of these towns were named after the more well-known place of the same name. According to Wikipedia, Louisiana, MO was named in honor of a woman who was given her name because she was born just after the Louisiana purchase. (Remember how, back when Jefferson bought half the country, this area was called the Louisiana Territory?)

Speaking of Louisiana, MO, here's a pretty picture of the river they've got there:
It just so happens to be the same river we've got here, only before it gets here. The interesting thing about the Louisiana riverfront is that, unlike the St. Louis riverfront, it still seems to be active as a center of industry for the city. Granted, the city has about 3 and a half thousand people, so to count as a center, it doesn't have to be as big of a center of profit. But there seemed to be at least two functioning factories of some sort. I'd be interested to learn their histories and what they make. St. Louis' industry has gone the way of the dodo, and now our riverfront is mostly a tourist attraction/nighttime hotspot? Then again, St. Louis is a MUCH bigger city.

In other, less general and "wow I'm a nerd" news, I wasn't introverted or awkward this time I saw him. Also I think my own self judgment of myself as awkward is different from how others see me, which is not surprising. But still, I really don't think I carry myself all the time in any particularly confident or even competent way... I do have of self-confidence, and the ability to fake like I do, which is more important. And it's okay to be introverted some of the time, even for me!

I'm trying to enter the photo contest--they extended the deadline to this Thursday. Maybe, just maybe, I'll get some things together in time. I hope so.

Why am I so tired?

2008-10-07T23:44:00.003-05:00

Went to a birthday party for my little cousin today; she turned 5.
Wrote 3 paragraphs of the 4-6 page paper due Friday; I'm not sure whether my essay has a point.
Was really awkward and introverted around the boy I like today; felt like a total tool.
Am going to go to a small town near here to canvass for Barack this weekend; it's really exciting!

The law school. Irrelevant to my daily life, except insofar
as I walk past it regularly and it's really pretty.

Need Creativity

2008-10-06T21:51:00.003-05:00

I have done nothing creative for at least a week, and it bugs me. I have a great excuse--I was busy working on the VP Debate (which was an awesome experience)--but it's still annoying. Because I have too much homework to do to justify doing artwork. I wish we had homework for my art class!

I think I'll play with some HDR images I shot. Here's one:
Not nearly satisfying in terms of being creative. :(

Catharsis?

2008-09-28T02:14:00.003-05:00

I texted a secret to a complete stranger, and it feels incredibly liberating. I feel like there's a weight off my chest, in a weird way--part of me shouts that that wasn't enough, that I need to tell my friends and family (which is true), but my heart feels somehow lighter.

I've never sent a postcard in to Postsecret, because I have very few secrets. I am generally talkative, and pretty straightforward about myself. The things that I do keep to myself, I do so because I want to--they're things that have no buisness being outside my head, and that's fine. But this secret is one that I don't know why I'm keeping, don't want to keep it, can't seem to make myself say it. It's frustrating and has been eating at me. But now I feel oddly light.

I <3 Politics

2008-09-26T02:02:00.004-05:00

I have no idea what has been going on in John McCain's head these last few days. I can only know what's going on in my head, and those of my friends and family. And what is going on is this: what the hell? Just...what?

He has postponed his campaigning, going instead to Washington to help pass a bill that he has not yet officially endorsed. A bill which is opposed by members of Congress of both parties. A bill which would put $700 billion of taxpayer money into the economy in some as of yet vague way. Seven hundred billion dollars. That's 700,000,000,000--a lot of money. My money, your money, everyone's money. This bill not only goes against the Democratic viewpoint, but also goes against the official Republicna platform. Yet McCain has implied that he will attend Friday night's debate only if some form of agreement is reached.

A friend of mine read an editorial which suggested that McCain is self-sabotaging. He's been emphasizing security, the argument goes, and has said little about the economy. Maybe he doesn't want to be President anymore, what with this sort of crisis to recover from. As unlikely as that seems, it has been true that in times of financial crisis, Democrats tend to be favored. In the late eighties/early nineties, when the whole Savings & Loan debacle was at the forefront of public consciousness, Bill Clinton was elected president over the incumbent, George H. W. Bush. Supposedly he left us with a crazy big surplus; at any rate, the economy was going pretty smoothly when he left office. Not so much anymore, huh? Of course, the causes behind the current economy problems cannot be pinned on the Bush administration alone; the discussion of causal events is much too intricate a discussion for 2:30 am, and not relevant to my point. My point is that in times of economic hardship, we have tended to look towards the Democratic candidate to save us. I'd find more examples, but I'm too tired.

The funniest part of these negotiations is, undoubtedly, that Secretary of the Treasury Henry Paulson got down on one knee to beg Nancy Pelosi not publicize the failure of the negotiations. (CNN.com claims it was "half-jokingly." I'm not so sure.) He was afraid that the stock market would tank if it was relased that no agreement had been settled upon. If we lived in a society where things like this could be kept from the public, his pleas might have done some good. But, come on, Henry, have you not looked around you lately? This hit the 'net as soon as the discussion was over. Big surprise, the stock market continues to proceed in a downward manner. Our economy's in the toilet, I don't know what he thought would happen if everyone thought the bailout would be passed today. Stock prices would soar, and everyone'd be happy again? No. At least, I hope people will be more cautious once we work our way out of this mess.

Last thought: Senator McCain recently asserted that our government is fundamentally strong. One can assume that he was trying to be reassuring and put on a happy face for the American people. However, it's worth noting that his statement closely mirrors one made by President Herbert Hoover mere days before Black Friday.

Eh?

2008-09-24T23:33:00.003-05:00

È mia bella sorella. HDR, a LOT of post-processing/photoshop filters and whatnot. I like it alright, but am still working on it. See if I can't put some detail into her eyes.

Failed attempts

2008-09-23T23:02:00.004-05:00

I tried to go to the balloon glow with friends Friday evening, but we were too late. So we instead wandered around the Grand Basin, chatting and taking pictures and having a grand ol' time. I've been interested in HDR photography of late, and took this opportunity to give it a shot (pardon the pun). Here's my first result:
La mi piace molto, and I'm going to work on some of the other shots I took Friday (and Saturday, failing to see the balloon race itself) and we'll see what comes of it!

I should've been a hippie.

2008-09-19T01:27:00.002-05:00

I walk past/under this tree on my way to work, and I just think it's magical. Really twisted and gnarled, and it overhangs the sidewalk so that the morning sunlight dapples gently down through the leaves and it's like walking through an enchanted forest. Or something like that. Very beautiful. AND, the house it's next to had the first 2 Obama/Biden yard signs I've seen. So that was also happy-making.

Why don't I take more pictures?

2008-09-17T23:28:00.002-05:00

Why? Tomorrow I swear I will take my camera with me all day. It shall be exiting! Today I have no picture, nothing interesting at all, really. I took no photos of anything. But I really want to try experimenting with some HDR. Maybe of people? What would this do?, I wonder.

Up past my bedtime, again.

2008-09-17T00:41:00.005-05:00

Was going to post a ...thing? I was working on, but it turned out really weird, content-wise, and not terribly visually appealing. So, a pretty picture of downtown that I took last April.
And also the next camera that I want to get. Well, there are two. I really want a medium-format camera, so I've been checking out lomography.com, and I've decided to get (sometime soon) one of these two beauties:
the Holga, or

the Diana

How exciting!

You know that thing I said about posting a picture I took everyday?

2008-09-15T00:37:00.002-05:00

I lied.
I took this picture last spring, random guy in the Loop with a neat car. I'm taking a picture of the car (from my car) and he's like, "Hey, that's my car" (uh-oh, I think, he's pissed I'm taking a pic of it) "Let me be in the picture." So I shot this one. I especially like the expressions on the faces of the other men in the photo.
Instead of doing my homework this evening (because I have a migraine), I started messing around on Photoshop. Which is always fun. So, even though I didn't take this photo today, it has the same effect of being a record of what I did today: artsy stuff.
Including, but not limited to, my Communication Design homework. Excluding, of course, any other homework, say for instance, that which is due tomorrow. (Comm Des is Tuesday.)
Oops.

Canvassing and Chinese Food

2008-09-13T23:50:00.006-05:00

This afternoon, I went canvassing in the neighborhood just North of the school, where a lot of students live. The street Lucy and I were assigned to--University Drive--in fact consists entirely of university-owned apartment buildings, like this one. Even though we were doing this through the Students for Barack Obama/College Dems conglomerate that's been formed, we were just trying to register people. Missouri is such a key state, and only 1000 of the 6000 undergrads at Wash U are registered to vote. Or, that's what they tell me. I'm not sure whether they mean registered here or registered anywhere. In any case, we're trying to register everyone. (Well, all the U.S. citizens, of course.) In nearly two hours, Lucy and I succeeded in getting one registration. Just one. On the plus side, this was because most of the people we talked to were already registered. Many in Missouri, even. There were some who weren't sure about changing their registration; one guy wasn't sure who he was voting for! I know there are a fair number of undecided voters--still--but I just don't understand it. It's not like Obama and McCain are terribly similar! But anyway, that's not an issue we (the SFBO/College Dems) are going to worry about just yet--till October 8th, our focus is on voter registration.

This evening, I went with Kate and a bunch of friends to Yen Ching, the best Chinese restaurant in St. Louis (in my opinion), for Kate's birthday dinner. It was great fun. We took the bus there, and the Metro back. By the time we left, the evening had cooled off and I thought it was quite pleasant. I'd have been amenable to walking back to school, but that would have taken far too long, and Kate's shoes hurt her. So we rode the train.

While waiting at the train station, I got bored (big surprise) so I started taking photos (of course). Some were just of my friends, but some are sort of artsy. This one I like quite a bit, despite the big black blob from me not paying attention to the location of my hand. But my favorite is this:No, I didn't forget to rotate it--I like it like this. Maybe I'm just being artsy. I don't know. I do know that it looks better on my comp--the upload tweaked the colors a bit, it seems.

Fun with Stencils

2008-09-13T11:39:00.004-05:00

Last night I was avoiding cleaning my room, not doing much of anything, and I decided I wanted to make a stencil. I've been sort of obsessing over the concept of silkscreening lately (even though I've never silkscreened anything in my life), and continue to be fascinated by printmaking in general, so this desire did not come as a great surprise. The surprise was that I actually did it!

I started with a photo I took of my cousin playing baseball, converted it to B&W, messed with the contrast and the levels, and ended up with this: I decided to go two-color and make a black and a white stencil. Much taping and cutting and paint-dabbing later, I ended up with this: (the colors aren't very true; imagine the whites white and the blue bluer)
So it's obviously not quite done; I need to add some more shadows around his feet, and outline the bat a bit more I think, and perhaps include some sort of context. Perhaps not. I was really focusing on the figure and, with the exception of his right leg, I'm pretty happy with how it turned out!

Crucial to the Prevention of Tyranny

2008-09-12T02:09:00.002-05:00

This is not a picture from today, but I really enjoy it. It's from my Loop expedition (as it were) on Tuesday. This, while not a picture I took, summarizes both today and yesterday:
Plus, I love my suite/blocmates. XD

Retroactive Radioactive Hyperactive

2008-09-10T18:53:00.002-05:00

I walked into the Loop yesterday because I had to pick up my UPass from the West Campus. I'd found my SD card, hurrah!, so I took some pictures. Gotta get better at this "daily" thing.

Later I went to a rehearsal--I'm in an orchestra now! Sooo much fun. I missed playing last year.

Tu vuo' fa' l'americano

2008-09-03T01:48:00.002-05:00

This picture was fairly impossible to take. I really need to get a new SD card.

Life is Like an Open Highway

2008-08-31T02:09:00.004-05:00

Today was a total waste, but it was a sort of relaxing and nice waste. These are from the last few days--enjoying my lunch under a tree as the sunlight filtered gently down to me through its leaves, cutting my suitemate's hair and admiring the designs the ringlets fell into (this is the result of art school), watching Obama accept the nomination for presidency with a room full of excited peers, and making an umbrella fort from a lonely umbrella on a late-night Bear's Den run--much to the chagrin of the superstitious girl at the next table.

What you Feel is what you Are and what you Are is Beautiful

2008-08-27T01:33:00.003-05:00

I went to dinner at Fitz's with Kate, Peter, their friend Micky, and Lucy this evening, which was quite fun. I took this photo because the Vintage Vinyl awning has come down (probably intentionally) and you could see where it used to say "VARSITY." I don't think you can see it in the photo, however.

Later, there was a floor meeting and after that, Brett and Brendan and I headed over to Bear's Den to grab some food/FroYo, and sat around talking for a long time. It was great, we talked about politics and technology and music geekiness on the way back and then hung out in the hallway talking about games (which was mostly them.) It was cool, 'cause I really didn't know them too well, but they're both a lot of fun.

2008-08-26T01:16:00.002-05:00

We all played Apples to Apples for a while, and when that was done, things got silly. Well, sillier. Jenn flopped on the floor, so Brett and Brendan decided it was a good opportunity to pick her up and carry her around. She vainly attempted to do a crocodile death roll to free herself of their clutches, but to no avail.

We Don't Need No Education

2008-08-25T01:16:00.003-05:00

It's that time again, time to return to the sleep-deprived world of being a full time student! Classes start Wednesday, and I'm (sort of) moved in. That is, all of my junk is in my new room, but I have hardly begun to unpack, and no decorating has yet occurred.(Lousy picture quality, I know, but I can't find the SD card for my camera, so I took it with my phone.) I'm going to try, this semester, to post a picture every day from that day. So there will probably be more than a few phone pictures, and (I hope) it will condition me to carry my camera with me everywhere.

Choppy Pieces of Dreaming

2008-07-06T22:52:00.003-05:00

Something was going wrong. We needed to find someone, or something. It was in a dance club and I could picture it vividly. I transported us in, but it wasn't the right club...
I was in a small room off the main dance floor. Some boy from the first club came up to me, his hair was different, and asked me to dance. I wasn't interested, and was grossed out by his badly-dyed, turquoiseish hair sticking straight up and out like a unicorn's horn. I turned around and there was this other boy, in a bumble-bee yellow and black striped mock turtleneck and hat. I looked down and found that he and I matched. We looked at each other, and he asked me to dance. We danced, and chatted in the side room, and I was behind him, pulling aside the collar of his shirt to kiss his warm, soft neck. His hat had come off and I played with his spiky black hair...
We had solved the problem and she was angry, my sister? Friend? She was so angry, she stood on a crane high above the brightly-colored city, above the river gulch, above everything, and chanted a curse, banishing all the rabbits. Poof! They were gone, and so was he, my bumble-bee boy. They called him Rabbit. As soon as she'd finished her chant, she was gone, vanished. So I set to work...
I closed my eyes, and felt around with my mind, searching. After a time, I found him and pulled him out of the darkness. Standing in the alley behind the club, I held him to me and murmured that everything was alright. He told me about the darkness, said that it was so empty, but that there was something there. And then suddenly he'd heard my voice, calling him, and he could see the way back. He asked how I'd done it, so I began to explain that I was a witch.

What's it like in New York City?

2008-04-24T01:52:00.006-05:00

Covered in sunburn, I sit in the plush leather chair not doing my homework. Everyone around me seems to be working steadily away, good students that they are. But not I. I sit here, vaguely uncomfortable but not enough to do more than fidget, and I ponder.

I sort of have a crushthing on one of the cashiers at the little mart I go to. For a week or two I got into the habit of always going there at the same time, while he was working. We'd chat a bit, as I'm wont to do with cashiers of any sort. (I feel bad for people who work in retail because so many people ignore or are blatantly rude to them.) A couple of times, hough, I noticed him winking at me as he handed me my bag. I went in there about a week and a half ago, now, I suppose, with Kate, and she noticed too. I hadn't ever responded in any way, because I am a total idiot and completely inept at this sort of thing. I resolved, though, to wink at him first the next time I went in. However, at the same time Kate and I started working like fiends in the coffeeshop on campus, and my routine changed. I didn't go in at the same time as I had, and consequently didn't see him for a week or so. I saw him when I went in yesterday, but was (of course) much less brave than I imagine myself to be and didn't wink. And he didn't wink at me. Today I went in around the same time, and he wasn't there. I'm going to keep trying (and hope I can muster the gall), because he's really cute and nice and I do sort of like him. (Though if I admit that to myself, it'll get worse and I'll be struck dumb when I'm around him.)

I wish I were more ept. I passed him once in the hall during that week-long period, and pretended to be engrossed in my reading because I had no idea what to say. I'm all right at pretending to be confident normally, but when it comes to boys, I can't even pretend my way to being bold. Why am I so hopeless?

[[I just realized that both this post and the one below it are about boys, and that they're nearly exactly a month apart. I'm not really boy-crazy; it just seems that way. Nothing came of the "Do I like V?" question last month. The project was over and that was that.]]

The world keeps spinnin' round and round

2008-03-23T23:52:00.005-05:00

After ages of reading webcomics and wishing I were creative/talented enough to do that sort of thing, I've given up. I don't draw well, and doing something regularly is not so easy for me. Case in point: it's been more than a month since I last posted to this blog. It's been a busy semester. Anyway, my point is that I've had an idea about a creative outlet. I'm working on some planning, prewriting and whatnot, but am getting pretty excited. We'll see how that goes.

In other random musings, it's really interesting what situations/classes lead to friends. I'm developing a bunch of new friends from one of my classes, more than in any of my other classes. It's Italian, which I would think means that the students have less in common with each other than in, say, my Science Fictions class. Which is really where this is coming from--we're working on group projects right now, and one of the guys in my group in particular I'm finding pretty attractive. It's gone half a semester and I've not really gotten to know any of my classmates (which I can contrast to, say, Lucy in my Italian class, who I'm good friends with). And it's not because I don't want to! Most of the people seem like people I'd like to have as friends. But, for example, when two of my groupmates and I were eating dinner after working on the project for a while, there was very little conversation. The guys (who are already friends, from high school) read the paper while they ate, and I just thought about the afternoon.

One of the guys, let's call him V, had been irking me earlier in the day because he was trying to dictate everything. It's a film project, and the group decided he'd be our leading man, the title character. But he was also telling the other guys (who were trying to film) what angle to do it from, and how to do this or that. Granted, we didn't decide on a director or anything, so it was all fair game, but it had felt like none of he guys was listening to my input. And that's a lousy feeling, to think that the people you're working with don't respect your opinion. But I was also sort of crabby, as V pointed out when I said something snippy. (They really haven't seen the obnoxious side of me, which I'm fine with.) So I'm playing the woman, opposite V, and we get to the point where we're filming a scene with the two of us. I had noticed before, in class, that he has really nice eyes--they're a really intense and beautiful green/hazel. And in class, I thought "wow, he's got great eyes, and is in fact rather good-looking," but that's as far as it went. (It made me happy when he made eye contact with me.)

But did I mention that his character spends the entire film shirtless? At first, when we were filming shots of just him and I was behind him, it was just sort of like, oh. Okay, V's not wearing a shirt. Big deal--it's not like he's got a hideous back, so what do I care. (The other guys, N & D, whistled ans cat-called when he first took off his shirt. I barely looked up.) A little bit later, we were talking about what to film next, and I moved to sit on the bed by the chair he was in. It wasn't awkward, but I hadn't really seen his chest before. When we started filming the scene in which my character is talking to his, face to face, I started to realize how attractive he is. He's got a nice body.

I wouldn't give it "crush" status, per se, but today when we were working on film editing, I did go out of my way to complement him. He, D, and I were looking at a lot of footage in which he's looking down, and you can't see his eyes at all. I mentioned it, and he said something about how you don't want to be looking directly at the camera (duh). I said something like, "Sure, but you can't see your eyes at all, which is a real shame, because you've got really nice [or pretty] eyes." He did acknowledge it as a complement, said "thank you." I don't think it was obviously flirty. (I hope not!) It was something I'd say to a girl friend. Also a completely platonic guy friend. I think. I mean, who doesn't like to be complemented? And it's nice to receive a complement from someone of the opposite sex, or who you're not particularly close to. And I'm both. Now I think I'm over-justifying this.

We knew our childhood days were done

2008-02-16T00:40:00.007-06:00

As the school bus bumps along the city streets, I stare out the window. Low buildings--warehouses? storefronts?--pass by, leafy branches overhanging against the rainy gray sky. Bu-bump, we go over a pothole. Everyone's jabbering, joking and having a good time. But I've been sort of out of it all afternoon. At the garden, I'd spent the last hour or so wandering around by myself, taking pictures. I had felt no need to cluster with my friends; I was in my own world. I close my eyes and listen to the music. "...a child of sacrifice,/ a child of war,/ another son who never had/ a father after Leningrad..." I love this song; it makes me sad, but is beautiful. It captures the experience of a generation. "...cold war kids were hard to kill/ under their desks in an air raid drill..." Moving, touching, and meaningful, it has such sweet melodies and protests war in its own way. It only serves to further my self-contained mood. I listen to it over and over, having only recently discovered it.

We get to the restaurant; I come out of my fog. At the "seniors" table, we eat our sushi boat, kid around, and have a great time. When it comes time to leave and the school day isn't yet over, we lament that we have to go to our eighth period class. All of us love it, and the teacher, but we've had such a beautiful day away that we just don't want to go back to school. Besides, we didn't think we'd be back in time for class, so most of us didn't do the reading. But we have to go back, so we do, getting to class with just under half an hour left in the day.

Ten minutes later, my cell phone vibrates insistently in my pocket. A phone call? I check inconspicuously. When I see that it's from my mom, my heart sinks--she knows school's not over for ten minutes. How do I know it's bad news? It could be anything, her watch could be fast, she could assume I'd leave right after the field trip. Yet I somehow know. Part of me knows what it must be, what it is, but I deny that so deeply, push it down inside of me, the thought doesn't cross my mind. It's bad news, I think, bad news about Grandpa, but that part of me won't let me realize how bad. I wonder if I should check the message as soon as class is over, or wait till I get to the car. I picture myself standing in the classroom crying as I hear the message, friends around me being concerned and caring. Mentally, I shake my head--I've never liked for my friends to see me cry, or for people to clump around me and make a fuss.

The bell rings and I get up, grab my camera bag, and move my chair back to its row from the discussion circle. Without saying goodbye to my friends, I'm gone. Down the stairs and out the door, I open my umbrella and dial voicemail. "Hi, it's your mom," I hear, but it's wrong. It sounds all wrong. She's been crying. I start to cry as it surfaces, what my brain had been pushing down since my phone buzzed fifteen minutes ago. Grandpa's dead, I think, crying harder as mom's message goes on, saying there's bad news and asking me to call her back.

The rain falls, separating me from the outside world and all my classmates. Under my umbrella I am in my own world, as detached as I was earlier in the afternoon. Not even trying to hold back the tears, I call my mom back. I can't pay attention to her words; her meaning comes as no surprise, but still I sob harder. She asks where I am--almost to the car--tells me that it happened earlier in the day, mid-morning or so, but they didn't want to call and ruin my last Japanese class field trip. I'm grateful, I guess. I wonder if it had anything to do with me being so out of it, wonder if there was some sort of psychic connection. I get to the car, but can't leave yet--I can't see through the tears. It rains harder, and I calm down enough to pull out of the parking spot. I drive home, tears continuing to drip down my cheeks the whole way, listening to only the sounds of the rain, the car, and my own ragged breathing.

Think what that money could bring

2008-01-21T21:16:00.000-06:00

It was a good weekend, till it ended. I hung out with a bunch of friends and had a lot of fun. It's good to be back, I decided. Today was different, though, because I went to work with Mom. When I got back from work, it felt really strange--having been "home" and doing essentially what I did for most of break, then coming straight back to school.

I should write more excitingly. I will. Later, once I've done my homework.

Hanging on the floor. (Literally.) Saturday

The ice carnival. (It was ridiculously cold.) Saturday, too.

Never gonna win

2008-01-15T19:13:00.000-06:00

I understand the satirical aspect of Rockstar, really I do. But the way it opens feels familiar:

I'm through with standin' in line
To clubs I'll never get in
It's like the bottom of the ninth
And I'm never gonna win
This life hasn't turned out
Quite the way I want it to be.

Sometimes I wish I could skip directly to my mid-twenties. Wake up one morning and be settled. Have friends, a job, a life. Not have to constantly second-guess myself about how my friends feel about my presence, and whether they'd use that term.

I always feel awkward with them, like I've missed something. They spend so much time together. I'm just not that kind of person, I don't make friendships where I'm joined at the hip to someone. I never have, but for the most part, none of my friends did either. I wasn't really in the friend-group by my senior year, but I didn't really want to be. At that point I was pretty sick of most of them. Before that, in middle school and early in high school, it was always a group. There would be times when two people hung out with each other more than with anyone else, but it was okay because we were all friends separately. This is different. Why that is, I don't know, but it just feels different. Like I don't belong.

And it's filled with people who are filled with shit!

2007-12-21T03:54:00.000-06:00

And the vermin of the world inhabit it!

I'm in a good mood. No, really. Listen to the song or see the movie. It's great, I thought. It creeped Becka out but I really liked it. Plus it's my birthday and I got to hang out with 4 great friends.

Welcome back to the age of jive

2007-12-18T22:33:00.000-06:00

It takes twelve hours to make an M&M. Who knew?
"Fifteen thousand pounds of test caramel."

I have seven new recipes for Christmas cookies, plus a couple of traditional ones. I hope to bake every day between now and Christmas, and possibly a couple of days after. Including making a cherry pie on Christmas Eve. I should probably go buy a 5lb bag of flour, and maybe some sugar. Instead of mooching off of my parents' ingredients too much.
Cookie recipes:
Sugar Cookies
"Dad's Melt-In-Your-Mouth Cookies"
Almond-Orange Cookies
Raspberry-Lemon Thumbprint Cookies
Monster Cookies
Chocolate Cheesecake Candy Cane Bars
Gingerbread Cookies
Cookie Press Cookies
Grandma's Mandelbread

And, of course, cherry pie for Christmas Day.

I want to relearn what I already know

2007-12-16T00:30:00.000-06:00

It's been snowing nonstop since 2am. It's already 5 or 6 inches, hurrah! This morning, my dad and siblings and I went sledding--it was so much fun! I took a bunch of pictures, and intend to take more before bed. It's just so beautiful. I get like this every winter, I know, but I really love the snow. The only problem is it makes for difficult (not to mention dangerous) driving, which may interfere with my plan to take friends out for hot fudge sundaes.

They ain't cheap but they're easy to find

2007-12-13T01:53:00.000-06:00

Happy happy. Hung out with my bff (old school, hah!) for a couple of hours tonight. Will hang out with Mandy tomorrow evening. Saturday Becka comes back into town, and I'm going to Mom's concert. Sunday I'm taking Kate, Pat and Ryan to Crown Candy Kitchen. That's a long time to go without seeing them.

I can't stop thinking in circles, wanting to know the answer to the age-old question, does he like me? But I think there's really only one way to find out the answer. And when I go for a while without seeing him, I start to question whether we're really friends or if he sees me as a pesky barging-in tagalong type. Argh.

I burned a hole in the dining-room table

2007-12-12T00:16:00.000-06:00

If I were in his place, I'd have done it just to touch him. In fact, I did something in that vein by patting him on the head (I like his hair.) But he isn't me.

And he told me about his new theorem. He was so excited, it was cute. It's the sort of thing one might bring up to keep someone else's attention directed at them. But was it a "pay attention to me because I like you and it makes me happy when you do" sort of thing, or a "you're my friend and I think this is really cool, so let me tell you about it" sort of thing? Both fit. (Proof I'm interested in him: I found myself really genuinely interested in this mathematical theorem, because he was telling me about it and he was so excited.)

And Sunday, wanting to know which way I was headed, then "If you wait a second, we'll walk with you, as far as the campus store." Now, I'd say this to a friend, but especially think of it to spend time with someone I like.

And Wednesday night he brought me the shoes I'd sillily left in his room, which was really sweet. When I asked if he wanted to see my painting, he was enthusiastic. But so was Kate. I think I remember him being slightly more excited, but I'm not sure.

But we are friends, pretty good friends. I've seen him almost everyday for the last little while. And I think I like him, but it's different then previous crushes. Even since I realized my feelings, I don't get nervous or anything around him. Even when we're alone. I like being around him, it's comfortable. I really enjoy being friends with him and hanging out with him and Kate. Though sometimes I feel like I'm intruding. I don't think there's anything romantic going on there, I've been observing them and thinking about it. Plus, I've been hanging out with the both of them so much that they'd have to be really trying to keep it a secret, and I don't think they would.

I always feel like I'm reading too much into things in this sort of situation. But I may be subverting myself by denying the thought that someone likes me. That's how it was with Iley. There were plenty of times when he did something that made me think for a second that he liked me, but I always convinced myself that it was just him being strange. He's not flirting with me, that's how he's behaving towards his guy friends, too, I'd think. And I was wrong. But he did something really obvious (in retrospect,) kissed my palm, and I did nothing. Because of my brain going in circles, over analyzing every single thing into oblivion. I really don't want that to happen again, and used my knowledge of "it is feasible that some guy actually likes you" with my next crush after that, but this is different. For one thing, nothing that obvious has happened, and also, I feel different than I have when I've liked guys in the past. Not as concrete. But... I don't know. It's hard to describe, and harder to try to figure out what to do. Besides spending as much time as possible with him, because I enjoy his company. Because he's my friend. The desire to spend time with him is normal for a friendship, but in this case, it's a bit stronger than normal. Except for things like seeing my best friends again after months apart.

I feel like I normally do with a crush when I'm away from him, thinking things like this. But when I'm with him, it's more like friendship. Except that every once in a while a thought about this topic will float through my mind, but nothing happens. And when he does certain things that I would do to flirt with someone I like, I start seriously overthinking things.

My thoughts are flying at 186,000 miles per second, around and around like racecars on the track and I can't stop them or control them or even make sense of them. I think they're feral.

Out of your soul, race through your veins, you can't escape

2007-12-08T02:31:00.000-06:00

Tonight was quite a lot of fun (and non-partying and non-drinking fun, too!)

Pat, Kate, Rachel and I went to see More Fools Than Wise's fall semester performance, which was the Madrigal Feaste(y)*. It took the form of a cheesy play in a faux-Renaissance setting (followed by a straightforward concert,) and was absolutely hilarious! Pat's roommate Ryan (who's also my friend) is in the group, as is one of my co-workers, Jacob (which I didn't realize.) The show was set up as a Renaissance dinner party (but with a skit starring the members of the group,) but my friends and I didn't get to eat. We were merely peasants due to the fact that we got tickets on Wednesday, so we ate at Subway beforehand. But it was a ton of fun!

When the main course was served, there was an intermission from the skit. Being a show, however, the entertainment must go on! So there was a group of wandering carolers who sang us some Christmas carols. This group included my friend Ryan. Then, while I was talking to a friend who'd managed to snag a seat at a table, two strolling minstrels went over and serenaded Rachel, who I'd been sitting next to. In the skit, they were sort of sleazy con men with really fake French accents. One of them was Jacob, the guy I work with. I came back halfway through their (very nice) song, and couldn't get to my seat. I stood by Kate at the end of the row, one had on my hip, tapping my foot. (I was wearing my powerful heels! Also in a good and sassy mood.) When they finished singing, as everyone applauded, I started to edge past the purple-shirted minstrels, sassin' them with something like "Ex-cuse me, you're between me and my seat," with appropriate attitude and disdain. Jacob was nearer to me, and his co-minstrel (who had a stringed instrument,) could be heard saying something like "oh, she's just a peasant." So then as I'm sitting down, Jacob says to the other guy (whose name is Matt and is a Stereotype as well as a Fool,) "There's something I need to tell you about that peasant." They left the room and came back about a minute later to serenade someone else, leaving me dying to know what exactly Jacob told Matt. Probably just that he knows me on account of we work together, but would that qualify as something he "needs" to tell his buddy? Then and there? Argh! I sincerely hope Jacob works tomorrow while I do. Because I also have to tell him how awesome the song was that he wrote. It was really cool.

After the Feaste(y), we came back to the dorm and Kate, Pat and I watched The Shawshank Redemption, which was effin' a-MAZ-ing! It was really really awesome, I highly recommend it.

I spent a lot of time with Kate and Pat. I like them, they're both fun to be around. But I sometimes feel like I'm a third wheel. I don't know if there's something romantic going on between them, but they hang out an awful lot and I sometimes feel unwanted. Last night especially. Today was much better. And I'm probably particularly sensitive because I think I'm developing a thing for Pat. Which is another difficult question. I feel like I'd just goten to the point at the end of high school that I could tell a guy how I felt if I liked him, and possibly ask him out. But since he lives on my floor, it adds another level of weirdness, and I'm not sure how much I like him, and I really enjoy his company and friendship. Argh! I just don't know anything, and it's been having serious consequences on my self-confidence. I've been having waves of self-confidence and waves of doubt and sadness and it's getting really annoying. The highs are fun, but the lows are really horrible, beat myself up sort of thing. Hopefully it's a lot to do with stress and will be over soon.

*-It's the "Madrigal Feaste," as in Olde English, but I've been pronouncing it "fee-stee." It's fun!

This is what I want to be

2007-11-29T21:40:00.000-06:00

This morning I was going to write a post that said something like "I don't think I can do this. I can't do this. There's too much, I can't." But instead I finished my essay in time to wrangle my printer into submission and get to class on time, essay in hand. It may not be the best I've written for her, but it wasn't a first draft, and it was pretty decent. Then, after class and EATING for the first (and only so far) time today, I spent two and a half hours in the darkroom, printing four photos. I need to shoot at least 4 more portraits (hopefully at least five) and print four or five (one of the prints I made tonight was pretty bad.) But all of that will happen Sunday, and can't happen before then. Other things I have to do this weekend:
+work Friday and Saturday
+finish design for 3D project and make at least one block
+sketch out creative project for Comp Lit; start painting. DUE Thursday!
+study for art history. QUIZ Thursday!
+buy ticket for and attend dance concert. possibly same for Mr. Stereotype.
And I revise my aforementioned uncompleted post:

I can do this. I really think I can. I just can't let it slide, I have to keep working, and don't slack off or procrastinate. I really truly think I can finish the semester wihout having a meltdown, while maintaining decent grades. I hope.

Where's the orchestra?

2007-11-25T21:13:00.000-06:00

We didn't see each other over Thanksgiving break.

Wednesday: We'd made vague plans for the evening. They had to go to her grandparents' house and said she'd call when they got back, around nine. There was a party at eleven, the sort of thing she always goes to, but I rarely do. She didn't call. [She had said something about Friday or Saturday, if Wednesday didn't work out.]

Thursday: Turkey Day=family time. I was busy cooking all day.

Friday: Bonfire, got sick, she didn't call anyway.

Saturday: Text messaged me at 6 or so to see if I wanted to come with her to see a mutual friend. What, I'm an afterthought now? She says she's been "crazy with fam stuff," although I'm sure she saw a bunch of our high school classmates. I've known her for 13 years, I think I know her pretty well. When I told her I was sick she said she'd stop by "today or Sunday," when she was leaving for school at 4. I suggested Sunday, thinking that I'd be feeling better.

Sunday: I do feel much better. I did some school supply shopping around noon. When we got home, a plan developed to go to a movie as a family. This is where I play the part of the bad guy: I decided to go to the movie with my family rather than wait for her to swing by. Knowing her, she would have come by maybe half an hour before she had to leave. I decided I'd rather see a movie I wanted to see than wait around for two hours to see her for 20 to 30 minutes.

The end.

We're standing at a distance

2007-11-24T23:49:00.000-06:00

My nails are long and clacky. Typing is strange, because I never had long nails growing up and developed the habit of typing with the tips of my fingers, not the pads. Same thing applies to text messaging—I tend to use the tips of my thumbs, so now I use the nail, which feels strange and is sort of annoying.

I’ve been home for Thanksgiving break since Tuesday afternoon, and have had a pretty good time overall.

What? Why am I so optimistic, put a good spin on everything? Tuesday was good except for getting a shot [but I already wrote about Tuesday.] I wrote about Wednesday too, which was half good and half disappointing. Thursday started okay, turned bad, and ended good. I woke up to the smell of toast (stuffing in progress.) That was nice, and so were fresh bagels for breakfast. And hanging out watching the parade on TV. But then when my sister and I went to start making pies, I got inexplicably grouchy and nothing she did was right. I still don’t know what was going on with me, maybe something about her encroaching on my pie-making tradition while not really knowing how to cook. Friday she and Mom were sick, probably because they and I all drank from our little cousin’s cup after him, and he’s just getting over being sick. Although when I proposed this theory with his mom around, she got all defensive, saying it doesn’t happen that quickly. Which isn’t true—ever heard of a 24-hour bug, o wise one? I wasn’t even blaming her son; I admitted that it was my fault because I was the first to want to try his pear cider. I didn’t realize that he was sick. Maybe I didn’t know, maybe I didn’t remember. But I had a sore throat at the time, and it was the only thing that the three of us—and only the three of us—could have gotten germs from. I figure it took longer to become active in me because my body’s more used to fighting off germs from all over the place. If I’d been smarter, and not gone up to spend an evening in the cold on a mountain, I might not have gotten sick at all. But as it was, I went to the bonfire at schoolhouse farm, and it set in while I was there. On the way up, I was hyper with a bit of a sore throat. By dinner, my neck hurt some and I didn’t really feel like eating (although that may have been the smell of the burnt chili.) After standing around in thin socks and thin-soled shoes for about an hour and sitting under a blanket, feet facing the fire for maybe another hour, I was really cold. I had to go inside because my feet were so cold. I was also tired and congesty and my neck hurt and my skin hurt when it rubbed against things—like my sleeve. As we drove the hour and a half home, I warmed up, but standing for less than five minutes outside talking to grandma made me shiver and made my feet really cold again. I came inside and went almost straight to bed. I wound up going to sleep with cold toes and three blankets on. And socks! Today I did nothing. Sis and I watched Accepted and the whole family watched Transformers during dinner. I feel better (though that may be due to DayQuil.) But we didn’t see my aunt and uncle and cousins or my almost-grandma. And I didn’t see my friend and her cousin who’s interested in Wash U, or either of my other best friends. Which is really sad. I love my family, but I miss being able to see my friends whenever I want. Including the one in town, who's really busy and stressed. And I worry.

Tell me what you thought about when you were gone

2007-11-22T00:05:00.000-06:00

It's nice to spend time with friends you've known for ages. Comfortable. Six years is a long time to know someone; a third of my life, to be exact.

Thirteen years is much, much longer. A different kind of relationship, which certainly has to do with the people involved. But it hurts more when things don't happen. Last Tuesday we talked for an hour and a half; we made plans to hang out tonight (Wednesday). I called her this afternoon to find out when tonight we would hang out. She said she had to go to her grandparents' house until nine. She told me about a gathering a classmate of ours was having. Since at the time I was hanging out with a girl who doesn't party, she suggested we could hang out Friday or Saturday night. In high school, I didn't usually party with that group of people, but I would have gone and I probably would have had a good time--I've known most of those people since I was 11. If I can get through adolescence with them, I can certainly go to a party with them. But she never called.

I worry that we'll lose touch, drift apart, and that will be it. We've always had an easy relationship, I guess you could call it. Even when we didn't hang out for a long while, I knew she was there for me and was my best friend, and she knew the same. And that hasn't really changed, but I worry that it will. Or that it is. We won't start making the effort to see each other and so we'll stop seeing each other and gradually fall apart. I don't want that to happen. I would choose spending time with her over pretty much anyone else. Her family obligations I understand, she has to go see her grandparents. I'm sure she spent much of the day with her boyfriend. I understand this too. They're really serious, never see each other, and recently broke up and got back together. But I'm equally sure that, if she got back from her grandparents' before eleven, she went to the party. She chose them over me. And that thought hurts. It makes me really angry. It makes me not want to put any more effort into trying to see her this weekend.

But I love her fiercely.

We can't get lost in towns like this

2007-11-21T00:37:00.000-06:00

In terms of invention and achievement, today was vastly unproductive. Yet I enjoyed myself immensely.

I went to see my former Japanese teacher with two of the boys from my class, which was great fun. I felt sort of awkward at our sensei's new high school, as I am no longer studying Japan. But I really enjoyed seeing my friends, especially the one who does not go to the same school I do.

After we visited our former sensei at her new high school, we returned to our alma mater for a brief visit. I thought it'd be best for us to abide by the rules and go to the main office to get visitor's passes. As it turns out, they changed the rules this year. We're not allowed to visit during the school day, we were told by the very nice receptionist. I could tell she wanted to add "...but why don't you go ahead?" After all, we were always the good students, the creme of the crop. But the not-as-nice administrative person was sitting on the other side of the wall, watching through the window to make sure the receptionist told us the rule correctly.

Heads full of this newfound knowledge that to visit our former teachers we had to come back when school let out, we promptly exited the main office, turned away from it, and climbed the stairs to the floor above, the floor that contained the classrooms of the teachers we wanted to visit. We visited our AP World Lit teacher and stood around chatting with him for quite awhile. Everyone loved him, and it was nice to see him again. Then we went to visit the Physics teacher (who I only knew as the NHS sponsor) and the Calc teacher (whose class I dropped after one semester.) By this point, I had to tell the boys it was time to go--my class started in twenty minutes!

An hour and a half of staring into space and doodling later, I returned to my dorm to pack. On the list: my trusty laptop, ethernet cable, and at least one load of dirty laundry. My fabulous grandmother picked me up from school about half an hour later, but I didn't get home for another two hours due to various goings-on. I went back up to the high school to pick up my little sister and see who I would see. Of course, there were the friends who sill go there, but I also got to see some friends I graduated with who had the same idea to visit the ole alma mater. I also went to see my former mock trial coach, with whom I chatted for so long that I was almost late to my doctor's appointment. One flu shot and a bit of driving later, I was home! Officially, none-of-my-stuff-is-in-the-car-anymore home for Thanksgiving.

Say you don't know me or recognize my face

2007-11-19T23:16:00.000-06:00

To Do Tomorrow:

+Stroll down memory lane with otoko to sensei. [Don't be too awkward.] *Get coffee beforehand!
+Turn in application; get new identity.
+Invent tales of interest whilst looking at digital slides.
+Collect the necessary items for five days of fun and food!
+Take another stroll, if the timing's right.
+Get inoculated.
+Go on a quest to defeat the masses and obtain pie making supplies?
+Plan adventures.

Remember how I found you there?

2007-11-19T20:14:00.000-06:00

One thing about having friends who you never see: when you get the chance to see them, you jump at the opportunity. This, I've found is especially true of those friends who aren't my best friends, but with whom I want to maintain my friendship. A lot of the guys I took Japanese with, for example. I really like them, and like spending time with them, but in high school we never hung out much.

It's Thanksgiving break time already for some of them, so they've arranged a trip to visit our Sensei at her new high school. I really, really want to go with them to visit her, partially because she's an awesome woman, but mostly because I want to see them. This may be the only chance all break I have to see them, so I am absolutely going to go, even though it means leaving at 7:30. In the morning. Earlier than I've had to wake up all semester. And then I have a class at 11:30, because my university doesn't give us a week off for Thanksgiving.

Why not?
No one knows. Well, possibly someone in the Chancellor's office. To me, it makes very little sense. In fact, let's compare my private university with the state university that my aforementioned friends attend.
My university's basics: Private, heavily endowed, expensive tuition. Located in the biggest city in the state. Between 5,200 and 6,000 undergrads, with a really well-respected and highly ranked medical school in addition to being a "major research university." Draws students from all corners of the world--"approximately 120 countries," according to the website, 49 states (nobody from North Dakota, apparently,) Washington, D.C., Guam, and Puerto Rico. In the words of the website, "A distinctive feature of [the] University is that nearly 60 percent of our undergraduate students come from more than 500 miles away, making this one of the most geographically diverse campuses in the country." Only 10% of the students are from in-state, most of whom are probably local (biggest metro area in the state, remember?)
My friends' state University's basics: Public, very reasonably priced (especially for in-state students.) Located centrally in the state (sort of,) approximately 2 hours from my university and about half an hour from the state capital. Roughly 22,000 undergraduates. About 80% of the student body (including graduate) are from in-state. The 20% from out-of-state includes international students. I don't want to badmouth this school; I just don't have as many statistics about it.
My point: You can get from the state university to the furthest corners of the state in less than 5 hours (driving.) Eighty percent of the student body could be home for the Thanksgiving break in under 5 hours, less time than it takes some of the closer students from my university to get home. (I'm basing this on driving time to the closest major city.) Many of the students live even further away and have to fly. While this is quicker, it is more expensive, making some students reluctant to go home for only five days. To me, it would make more sense for the state school to have a shorter break, as more of its students can get home faster. Yet they have a full week off, where we only get 3 days+the weekend. It could be argued that we pay more to get a "better" education, so we should be more willing to go to class. But when I have a boring 1.5 hour class standing between me and my Thanksgiving vacation, I'm not so willing.