Death by Chopsticks

Here's another bit of creative writing for you! I'm not sure if you've all read it or not, but I thought I'd post it anyway. Mostly because I have resolved to resume my regular updating schedule, and I don't actually have anything else to say at the moment.

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8 p.m. 5 April 2003

Hm..... David thought, looking down at the body sprawled on the cushions. Apparently he died with chopsticks up his nose. That’s odd. From the flux of blood on the front of his shirt, it looked like they were the principle cause of death. Must be mighty sharp if they pierced the skull and caused a hemorrhage. Have to wait for the autopsy to find out for sure. This might well be the most macabre death he’d ever seen, and he’d seen plenty in his time. Policing was not an aesthetically pleasing job, however great the benefits.

He looked around him, trying to see past the police tape, the blood, and the panicked squalling of patrons being questioned. If I could only see what happened.... He searched his brain, then suddenly brought himself up short. Dunce! It’s not like you can see into the past. David shook himself angrily and went back to work. Fingerprinting. Keep your mind on the job....

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4 p.m. 5 April 2003

The food at Orito Sai’s wasn’t the best, but it was a small town, and the populace had a taste for Japanese food and for following the big-city fads. The inhabitants of Perrysburg felt sophisticated when they ate at Orito Sai’s, with its ornamental chopsticks and the muted opulence of the decor. At the moment Japanese food was sophistocated, and Orito Sai’s prospered.

Yes, Japanese cuisine is very elegant, Margaret reflected with satisfaction, waiting calmly for her sushi. And it gives one such a sense of calm to sit at low tables on cushions. She was comfortably hungry - that is, ravenous, and comfortable in the fact that food would soon arrive. Sushi. It had almost a heavenly ring. She never ordered anything else from Orito Sai’s.

Margaret was at a table near the middle of the restaurant, her back to the door. She didn’t see the staggering entrance of the stranger, but she whirled around at the first scream, promptly fainting at the sight of the blood-covered intruder. She missed both his gurgling death and the quick departure of a figure outside - short and pudgy, dark coat and hat, even though it was sixty outside. It was later discovered that the deceased’s name was Colin Attwood - Margaret’s own cousin.

That evening the papers read:

Local Man Murdered With Chopsticks
Short Pudgy Man with Dark Coat and Hat Witnessed at Scene of Crime
Police Baffled

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3:55 p.m. 5 April 2003

The House of Seven Gables, across the street from Orito Sai’s, was inhabited by Colin Attwood. He made his living, these days, by giving chopstick lessons. The more affluent citizens of Perrysburg came to him for exclusive lessons, to learn to eat the way Japanese nobility did. He’d been doing a booming business ever since Japanese food became The Thing. He reflected with satisfaction on his bank account. Soon I’ll have enough to set up a diner. I’ve always wanted to set up a diner. Allan, his current student caught his eye and he sighed. If I can only get through six more weeks of this.

Allan always made Colin nervous. He was Colin’s best paying student, and as such, Colin couldn’t stop teaching him. Neither could he claim to be full up. He had a perfectly comfortable number of students and a good amount of free time.

Not that Allan was physically intimidating - short, pudgy, mousy hair and limpid eyes. In fact, he looked like the epitome of a sidekick of doubtable intelligence. He was eccentric, certainly, always wearing a dark coat and hat, but he paid well, and eccentricity is perfectly permissible in the rich.

Colin watched as Allan ate. He wasn’t sure which made him most nervous: the way Allan preferred to use his unadorned chopsticks as spears or the apparent disregard for human life with which he wielded them. Someday, he thought, he’s going to poke his eye out with those....

72 Hours Past

If I wait much longer, I'll have to title this post "The Week Past." Oh how the mighty updaters have fallen.....

A lot has happened in the past 72 hours, a lot more than I have words to write about, but I'm going to give it a shot. If a lot of stream-of-consciousness gibberish results, you can just stop reading.

I went to Shannon's house for Easter day, and that was cool. We definitely drove a lot at night. I slept most of the time though, so I don't actually remember most of it. We hunted for Easter baskets, and her family was really sweet and made me an Easter basket too! I was like, awwww.... So that was cool.

I sat on my glasses last night and bent the frames and popped the lenses out. Thank goodness I was able to fix them. So that's all good now again, but at 2:00 am my Monday was off to a wonderful start.

I talked to Mom on the phone today and it turns out that Dad is having burning sensations in his arms and torso now instead of just in his legs and feet. I'm sort of bewildered by that. Dad was supposed to be getting better, not worse. I keep thinking of Bible class, and Dr. Miller's expoundation (is that a word? Expounding?) of the way God sometimes works - sometimes bringing an individual to the point of absolute despair - where they can't rely on themselves any more, and then he carries them. I don't want Dad to have to hurt any more. I don't understand how this can possibly glorify God, and to be honest I'm a little bit ticked off. Why can't life be easy?

This afternoon I hung out with Liz. She's publicity for Nickel and Dimed, Messiah's spring show, and she was like, "Hey, you want to come help me hang posters?" and I was like, "Sure." So we went and hung posters. This involved incredible contortions of will. Liz borrowed a car from Nicole, an upperclassman theatre major, we found a map at a Turkey Hill gas station, got Liz's license, the posters, tape, and set out. Two people from very far away states, driving someone else's car, on a rainy day, to find random businesses which would allow posters advertising the play to be hung on their premises. Yes, a recipe for hilarity. My sense of the absurd was thoroughly tickled. We found our way to a Turkey Hill and a Weis first, put up posters, then found our way to 15. After which we found ourselves back at the exact same Turkey Hill and Weis (Note to self: get a sense of direction). Then we found our way back to 15, got off in Mechanicsburg, and got out of the car. And walked. In the rain. Up and down Main Street. We hung several posters. We also got thoroughly soaked. (Note to self: Fast food restaurants do not hang posters.)

Then, on Tuesday, I went again to hang posters, this time with Shannon's car and on my own. I didn't get lost thank goodness, and I got rid of 10 posters. Yay! I was also up until 1:30 - 2:00 am-ish last night studying for my Bible exam, which I took this afternoon. I think it went OK.

I had to use power tools this morning, and I was a little worried that I wasn't quite conscious enough. But it worked out fine, and I'm on a roll! This project is going to be quite easy now that I've got a decent design....

This evening I have rehearsal for the School of Humanities chapel tomorrow. Lucy needed people to help with singing some hymns. I'm got a great singer, but I'm willing and have the free time, so she took me as a volunteer. And.... of course work tonight.

Oh! And I got my anthropology exam back.... not great, but not bad. I need to somehow decipher his handwriting and then possibly go argue with him. I apparently used too much absolute language.... I didn't know they could count off for that.

So yeah, that's been the past couple of days, in highly abbreviated form. The weather yesterday and today was absolutely gorgeous. It's almost t-shirt weather. I definitely want to go study outside, or possibly just sleep in the sun. I'm really tired. Sleeping sounds really good. 14 hours of sleep in two days isn't bad, but it's quite definitely not enough.

SOC Easter

I think that a nose piercing goes quite well with a polka dot dress, don't you? = D

Liz and I desecrated an encyclopedia yesterday. It was fun. Not dessecrated really - just cut out a few pages and pictures for an art project. Liz's eyes got really big when she realized what I was doing, and then she joined me wholeheartedly. I think I'd like to use the cover for a sketchbook or something one of these days, after I finish with the inside pages.

I slept until almost eleven o'clock today, and the sad thing is that I could've slept even more.

I feel like I should say something really deeply spiritual since it's the day before Easter, and since yesterday was Good Friday. Quite honestly though, I don't have anything to say, except that God is good. If I tried to say anything more it would only dilute that one wonderful amazing fact.

God is good.

Go with God, wherever you my happen to be.

Reading List

So I definitely have my reading list for the next four years all planned out. That is, if it doesn't take me four years to get through the first book on the list. = ) It's not a fun reading list - it's a grad school reading list. Yes, that's right. I got a list of books most grad schools expect you to have read. In talking to Professor Perrin it turns out that some universities consider a masters a terminal degree if you're a creative writing person and are published a certain number of times or something while in grad school. So it appears that grad school for English is just as feasible as grad school for Art. She also said something really interesting about choosing which one to go to grad school for - submit my portfolios and see which one gets me in . The only problem would be if I got in with both, but I'm not sure if that'll be an issue or not. This week's books: Boy on the Step by Stanley Plumly (recommended by Prof Perrin), and Dante's Divine Comedy. I may turn out to have a book of the month rather than a book of the week, but we'll see.

Today has definitely been a good day so far. I managed to get up on time, eat, get my lunch, all that good stuff. I went to Form Space and Media, which I was really dreading since I planned on pretty much starting again and working until I came up with something good, however long that was going to take. I didn't care if it took me two weeks without sleep - I wasn't going to turn in something I hated or that I thought wasn't good. However, I started playing around with the cardboard and the first thing I came up with I started liking.... and tweaked it and played with it a little.... and it actually turned out pretty good. Prof Botts, when I asked, said it was "more than decent.... it's actually really strong," and at that moment I felt like dancing around the studio and shouting "Hallelujah! Thank you Jesus!" No tears, surprisingly enough. So the saga of the cardboard models comes to an end... in one hour a solution to a two week old problem. Now I just have to remember enough math to scale the model up and transfer the patterns onto plywood.... and figure out all those angles to sand down to.... But the design is done. Yay!!!

Also, I took my history exam today, so that's over and done with. The vocabulary I knew cold, and I feel like the essay went OK, so I should do alright. Today is going to be spent studying for my anthropology exam tomorrow, which I feel like should be OK. Now that most of the preparation is done, I feel fairly confident (meaning that I'm terrified but there's really nothing further I can do to prepare).

Um.... Yeah. That's about it. I got to come in from class today and cuddle in blankets and warm up (it's cold and rainy here) and I think I'm actually going to make some hot chocolate and read a little bit before I start studying. I have all night after all. So this week is turning out to be much less crazy than I thought it would be, and I should have plenty of time for everything now that Form Space and Media is under control again. I'm investigating Frank Gehry for my FSM paper (I know, I was weirded out that there was a paper too), so I'm thinking maybe I should start investigating him and use one of his works for my Art History paper as well. Just make things easy on myself. = )

Stuck in my head all day: "In the Falling Dark"

No Lyrics!

I feel rather bad about always throwing lyrics out there at people and not really telling any news. So you're getting a real post for once.

Today was extremely frustrating, but good, and everything is more or less under control at the moment. I've got a lot of work, but I think there's just about enough time for all of it. I took a half-hour nap this evening because I was totally tired, and that helped me get through the rest of my reading. The Habbakuk project is coming up soon, as is my Art History paper, and of course the two exams I have to take this week. Tomorrow will be spent studying for World Civ, and Wednesday will be spent studying for Anthropology. If you get an extra minute, prayers would be greatly appreciated.

So one of the things that made today good (definitely not the crit) was going to talk to Professor Perrin. I picked her brains about professorial stuff, and while it was depressing to hear how colleges and universities are pretty much flooded right now, it was overall a very encouraging talk. I almost wept at one point. I finally got up the courage to ask her if she thought I could eventually write good poetry, if I kept on working, and she said "without a doubt." Yeah. That's more vindication than I ever looked for, and so I almost cried. I've been doing that a lot lately.

We also talked about the nature of perfectionism, and the nature of art, and the want to make something good that will last. And she said something that isn't new to me, but it was really nice to hear someone I respect that much confirm it. Art is "choosing to live a certain way." Yeah, that makes sense to me. Not whether or not I ever write the 'perfect' poem or paint the 'perfect' picture, but a way of living that incorporates as an integral part (perhaps I should say "is based off of") a love for creating.

So that was cool. I'm going to beard a few people that I know can critique poetry, and have them look at my stuff.... whatever it takes. = )

One of these days, I'm going to be an artist.

Once again....

If I was not so weak

If I was not so cold

If I was not so scared of being broken

Growing old

I would be...

I would be...

I would be...



...frail

*sigh*

I am now done with the cardboard model portion of my Form Space and Media project. I feel so tired, so drained, so worried, and so relieved to be done. I have a feeling he'll rather hate all of mine, because I feel like they're rather typical, but I'm not terribly ashamed of any of them, and actually rather like one, so let whatever comes come.

I've been really close to tears more times today than I want to admit. It's sort of misleading to say that though, because none of them were really related to the maddening art project. They were more Palm-Sunday, gorgeous-misty-day-with-living-colors, friends-to-eat-lunch-with, random-thoughts-about-the-past-week, life-is-good, hymn-singing tears. The sort of tears I imagine one would feel when standing on holy ground. I feel like something really important happened today, and if I could just put my finger on what it was, I'd be singing about it. If I could put my finger on what happened that was so awe-inspiring and sacred-feeling.... Well, I think I'd run up to cemetary hill again and dance. Or maybe I'd be praying.

Today has been a quiet revolution. I guess that's what it all boils down to. Something happened today, and it changed the normal course of things. An invisible coup d'etat, led by a figure shrouded in singing shadows.

Yes, I'm being a bit melodramatic. But keep in mind that it's 12:17 at night, and that I've been under a lot of stress lately. Also keep in mind that we had an inspiring and challenging seven hour pro tempore meeting last night, and you can maybe put together some of the crazily-whirling jigsaw pieces flying around in my head at the moment.

*sigh*

Figuring out the cause of the quiet revolution must wait however. I'm going to go take a shower, get into my nice clean pajamas, put my art materials in order for the morning, and go to bed, probably listening to a bit of music and reading a few pages before hand. Yes, tomorrow begins another week.... But I almost feel equal to it. Come week! Come, throw your arrows at me, and then depart, because Easter weekend is coming soon....

And I'm content.

...and I've been thinking 'bout eternity....

Naps

Praise the Lord and pass the tax rebates!

I took a nap this evening.... From 7 pm till 9:30 pm.... Now I'm not tired at all, and it's 11:30. I guess I'm not going to bed on time tonight.... I feel amazing though. Much better than I have for at least the past two days, if not the entire week. I actually feel like I can handle life, and I can do this, and I'm going to get done, and I have the patience to take time and do what I need to do as well as I possibly can under the circumstances. So, this is good. I've decided that I absolutely love naps, even late in the evening.

Granted, I just got assigned a lot more work by my Bible professor, and the Bible midterm has been announced as being March 30th. That's not this next week though, so frankly, I'm not even thinking about it. I feel good. For the first time in.... at least three days, I feel like I can handle what's happening. So, I'm off to handle it. Ta-ta!

Tantrum

*warning: this is a slight dramatization*

[wails, groans, flails arms and legs, screams, falls on floor, starts kicking it and beating at it, bangs head repeatedly, continues screaming and crying] MAKE IT STOP!!!!!!!! I WANT IT TO BE THE WEEKEND!!!!! AND I WANT MY EXAMS TO BE OVER WITH!!!!!!!!!!

[suddenly remembers that she's a college student without a Mommy here to hear her wailings and postpone the exams and sits straight up, trying to remember what the word 'dignity' means] Hm! ah-hem! Yes. Well. Off to study then.

Info

Just to let everyone know what's up, I have two midterms next week, a rather large project that I don't understand due, and an art history paper due. That's why I'm so stressed, why I'm leaving grumpy away messages, why, if you talk to me, I might just bite your head off.

Just kidding. I'm not quite that irritable. I'm just under really a lot of stress and running out of ways to cope beyond just getting done eventually. I do, however, have all the little incidental stuff that was due this week done, so I can now focus entirely on preparing essays, memorizing vocabulary, and cutting cardboard with a bandsaw.

Yes, that's right people. A bandsaw. Cardboard. Prof Botts finally showed us how to use the bandsaw and the table saw so we can officially use them now - as long as there's a proctor in the lab. It's reasonable I suppose, just a little irritating that I can't use them whenever I want. And in class, with thirteen people trying to use two saws, one doesn't always get a chance at them. Oh well. At least they're only models and don't have to be particularly neat and tidy. If all else fails I'll break out the trusty xacto knife and wreak havoc on the cardboard. = )

Love to everybody I haven't seen lately and miss..... Happy Thursday!

Info

Just to let everyone know what's up, I have two midterms next week, a rather large project that I don't understand due, and an art history paper due. That's why I'm so stressed, why I'm leaving grumpy away messages, why, if you talk to me, I might just bite your head off.

Just kidding. I'm not quite that irritable. I'm just under really a lot of stress and running out of ways to cope beyond just getting done eventually. I do, however, have all the little incidental stuff that was due this week done, so I can now focus entirely on preparing essays, memorizing vocabulary, and cutting cardboard with a bandsaw.

Yes, that's right people. A bandsaw. Cardboard. Prof Botts finally showed us how to use the bandsaw and the table saw so we can officially use them now - as long as there's a proctor in the lab. It's reasonable I suppose, just a little irritating that I can't use them whenever I want. And in class, with thirteen people trying to use two saws, one doesn't always get a chance at them. Oh well. At least they're only models and don't have to be particularly neat and tidy. If all else fails I'll break out the trusty xacto knife and wreak havoc on the cardboard. = )

Love to everybody I haven't seen lately and miss..... Happy Thursday!

ah, midterms....

Because I don't really have time to post, you get these lovely lyrics, compliments of Bruce Cockburn. Actually read them or skim them as you will, I've given up caring.

Orion's high in the south-west sky --
You're bound to move on and so am I
On this world we've had time to burn --
how come nobody ever seems to learn?
See how the starwheel turns.

Crystal drift on the whistling wind --
Constant change is the space we're in
You may use a slide rule or a golden crown
But nothing's worth it that you can pin down --
See how the starwheel turns.

Don't go playing no shell game with God --
Only Satan's going to give you odds
We're given love and love must be returned --
That's all the bearings that you need to learn
See how the starwheel turns.

...and by that I mean homework.

Whatever I want to do. Gosh.

Supreme Irritation, Not To Mention PMS

PMS: Possible Murder Suspect

This morning I woke up irritated. My first thought, as I was getting up, was not to get up. My second thought was the stand in the center of campus and scream profanity at the top of my lungs.

Then I realized there is no center of campus. Yes, my day was off to a wonderful start.

The irritation continued. I was irritated by my professors, by my fellow students, by their skill, by the current art project, and by my own incompetency. I was irritated by the temperature both inside and out. I was irritated by having to take notes. I was irritated when people talked. I was irritated when they didn't talk. I was irritated by my own irritation.

However, during Life Fitness, somewhere in the midst of my irritation with having to exercise, the girls gossiping in the locker room, the cold water, the slow swimmers, the fast swimmers, and the lifeguards, something happened. Somewhere in among all the swimming (and swimming..... and swimming.... and swimming....) my irritation lessened. And I began to feel remorseful.

And so, due to a certified Life Fitness miracle, I am apologizing to all and sundry. To everyone I sniped at the in past day and a half, I'm sorry. To all those I ranted at in the past day and a half, I'm sorry. I apologize to my professors, my fellow students, the very instruments of schoolwork I mentally berated this morning, and to the pool for violating its quiet sanctity with my grumbling angry thoughts. I apologize to Persephone for such a gross misuse of her powers this morning, when I posted that other abominable rant.

To Jenn and Steven: I apologize. Fight away. It's none of my business. I can only offer up (as an excuse for my behavior) the newly-realized fact of my femininity, and therefore my tendency to extreme PMS. Feel free to lambast me.

Rejoice, all! I am no longer irritated by the fact that the sky is blue. I am no longer irritated by the fact that there is no center of campus for me to shout profanity from. In fact, I no longer even feel the urge to shout profanity. Rejoice, for I am no longer irritated by my own existence.

Which brings me to a caveat for all those people unfortunate enough to have to deal with me in the next two days: Don't provoke me, OK? You should stick to safe questions when you see me - which would ideally be no questions at all. Chatter on about your day, and allow me my PMSing silence. I am not capable of behaving sanely at the moment, so if you ask me about the weather, you may just get a rant about the weather, the weatherman, China, politics, and sweatshops in East Asia. The question "How are you?" may result in a blank stare of hatred, followed by a lot of running around and screaming. Which could possibly be followed by an axe murder. Don't provoke me. That said, I admit that I don't actually have any friends here who would deliberately provoke me (at least I don't think so). But for your own safety, it would be particularly wise of you to take heed of my warning.

Quote stuck in my head: "I've decided I have raging hormones. I really want to make out with a guy, and I really think that's not normal."

Song stuck in my head:

Sun's up, uuh huh, looks okay
the world survives into another day
and I'm thinking about eternity
some kind of ecstasy got a hold on me.

I had another dream about lions at the door
they weren't half as frightening as they were before
but I'm thinking about eternity
some kind of ecstasy got a hold on me.

Walls windows trees, waves coming through
you be in me and I'll be in you
together in eternity
some kind of ecstasy got a hold on me...

Freighters on the nod on the surface of the bay
One of these days we're going to sail away,
going to sail into eternity
some kind of ecstasy got a hold on me
and I'm wondering where the lions are...
I'm wondering where the lions are...

Oh, and I thought this was kind of appropriate....

grim travellers in dawn skies
see the beauty -- makes you cry inside
makes you angry and you don't know why
grim travellers in dawn skies 

Tiredness

Yep, that's right. I'm back.

I saw Liz, Andrew, and Kaitlin. Liz is really really hyper, which definitely made my evening fun, and she wrote a lot of a story, and if she doesn't read it at the meeting on Saturday I shall blackmail her forever! Heehee! = ) Kaitlin is glad to be back. Andrew is too. In fact, I think I'm one of the few that feels unready to be back. I mean, I'm glad to be back, I'm just not quite ready. After Christmas, it was like, yeah, I'm ready to go back to school. I actually am not looking forward to going to class tomorrow. It's just getting to be.... tiresome I guess. I'm tired. Ah well. Enough complaining. On to my history readings for tomorrow.

Awesomeness

The past couple of days, Thursday and Friday, have been totally awesome. On Thursday I got to eat dinner with Candace and Abbi (At Big Bob Gibson's, a well-known and loved establishment here, which I'd never been to before. Apparently, once you're in college, the broadening of the horizons does not stop when you come home.) and then we went to the mall and got cookies, and, for the very first time ever, I went into The Gap. Yes people, I had never been in The Gap before. They have pretty nice clothes, some of the time. = ) Too bad it's expensive. I think I'm more of an outlet person myself. So that was awesomely fun. Candace and Abbi, I want to take both of you back to college with me! = )

Yesterday was fun too. In addition to running around Decatur like a chicken with my head cut off, picking up ten+ applications for summer jobs, I finished off an anthropology essay and read some books. I got bored in the evening, and so Dad started me looking through our old LPs. Lately he's been recording them onto CDs via some process with lots of complicated wires and computer software. As you can tell, I don't understand more than the very basics of it. But it's cool. So.... we got started sampling the LPs, and ended up listening to music until past midnight - when Mom got home from work. If (earlier in my life) anyone would have predicted that I'd be up till midnight listening to 60s, 70s, and 80s music, and yes, enjoying it immensely, I'd have thought they were insane. It'll be cool when I'm home for the summer and can listen to more of it. And once Dad's got them all on CDs they'll be more accessible to my 'inquiring mind'. So yeah, that was cool. I had lots of bonding time yesterday. I spent three hours bonding with Mom in the car to look for a job, and I spent a couple hours bonding with Dad listening to music. Yay for bonding time!

I'm only semi-ready to come back to school. I'm a bit bored, but I'm not ready to go back to the grind of homework yet. This summer is either going to be great or is going to drive me insane. We'll see. I may be BEGGING to come back in September.

And today we're headed over to my grandparents' house for lunch. Mmmm! Grandma is a great cook! And it'll be cool to spend some time hanging out. I haven't seen Grandma or Grandpa hardly at all this week.

In Conclusion, Spring Break Is Awesomeness. = )

Ending

Alright, here it is. Jess and Aaron collaborated with me on the ending, so you'll see one very striking parallel between Jess's last ending and mine. Quite frankly I think there were better and more creative endings posted by all those fantastic people who put up with my whims. But anyway. Here we go!

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A truck backfired next door, and some stupid dogs started barking. He snapped. Dagnabbit! That better not be that damn art fairy again. “Muse” she prefers to be called. Well screw her! She told me to paint rain and I’m darn well painting rain! I gave up a hike in the rain with Princess Aurora to paint freaking rain. An art fairy told me to paint rain, and I can't freaking paint rain. No more painting for me, future throne or no future throne Let the rain paint its own damn picture.

Tiredness

C'mon now guys, I'm sure there are other people out there just dying to come up with an alternate ending.... so I'm gonna give you another day. And then I'll post my ending, along with another story I've been working on. If, that is, it passes muster when I look at it in the morning.

I actually worked on my anthropology essays today.... I feel sort of proud.

Candace and Abbi came over for lunch, so that was a lot of fun. I'm tired now though. I should post when I feel more chipper.

I love my new Easter Dress. It's like no Easter dress I've ever seen before. It's very eccentric. I like it a lot. No one make fun of me. I have a fragile ego. = ) I should post pictures of it sometime soon. Now that I have awesome rechargeable batteries for my awesome digital camera.

On a side note, I'm having a really hard time coming up with titles for my posts lately. I wonder why?

Unfinished

So, I started this brilliant story (note sarcasm), and I couldn't think of an ending. So I thought I'd let all of you come up with endings. Here it is: the first (completely original) make-up-your-own-endings post! Make up your own ending, post it in the comments section, and let us all read it! The more absurd, the better. To help you get started, I'll post a random ending my brother came up with, and Jess is going to post an ending too. Then, tomorrow or whenever I get around to it, I'll post the ending I ended up writing.... And yes, it's absurd. Don't even ask how absurd it is. Just submit your endings and let the fun begin! (I feel like a carnival hawker. Do I sound like a carnival hawker to you?)

Step right up! Post your ending! Completely free! No jokes! No catches! No secret-contracts-hidding-in-the-subtext-of-this-
blog-giving-me-the-copyrights-to-your-soul!

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He stared quietly out into the rain. He wasn’t sure it should be called rain, but “rain” was the closest he could get. A drizzle? No, that’s not right either. Drizzle sounded so depressing, and these shining star-droplets falling from heaven were anything but. The clouds which caused them, a soft cooling grey, made light seem tangible, a thing to be touched and caught, wrapped up and given away with love.

The plum tree outside his window glowed. “Brown” was not the word to describe its bark - such a word does not convey the tear-streaks of rain, the deepened vibrance, the contrast between glowing green grass. Neither did it convey the life of the tree - pink buds appearing almost overnight, opening so quickly that they surprised, and so agonizingly slowly that one despaired. Always it flowered without his realizing, although he watched carefully, checking on it every day. Every spring anticipating. No word could describe the luminosity of rain, its glimmering, its gift of living.

No picture, he thought, can ever do justice to rain, or water, or fire. No picture can ever do justice to wind, can ever communicate the smell of spring, the smell of fall, the shimmering tangible light of it all. No picture can ever communicate life. He shortened that last thought. No picture can ever communicate. How depressing. I don’t think it’s true either. I just can’t seem to get it right is all....

He looked with dissatisfaction at the painting. It was technically correct - as far as it went. It failed miserably, however, to communicate the feeling of rain. It was too correct, too typical, too expected, and rain, above all, was unexpected. How could one predict which way a raindrop would slide? The pattern of light playing inside it? How could on predict the ways in which a little rain would disrupt your life? He thought, disgruntled, about his cancelled hike. Impossible.

He’d failed utterly to paint his love for rain.

He sighed. Closing his eyes and breathing in deeply, smelling the rain through the open window, he sought, groping, for some way to paint rain. A soft wind touched his face, relieving the oppressive warmth of the room.

Start at the beginning, he told himself. What color?

A truck backfired next door, and some stupid dogs started barking.

Observation 1

Observation 1: if you leave a post up for more than one day, there is very often a large conversation in the comments section. I wonder if I should try that?

[trumpet noises]

This is my formal declaration:

This is henceforward a G-rated and family-oriented blog.

Or at least family oriented. = )

How did I end up with such an amazing family? I ask you.

Miscellaneous

.... [awkward silence]

For once I don't think I have anything to say.

Watched Napoleon Dynamite commentary tonight with my brothers and Mom, had milkshakes. Didn't think much all day, therefore the lack of reflection in this blog post. Read about 700 pages. Discovered that I love Lloyd Alexander, but his gollum-esque character irks me. Very much a Tolkien rip-off. Quiz meet this morning was fun. The B quizzers are so cute.... Everyone give a collective "awwwww...." Discovered that, as a spectator, quizzing makes me feel weird - should probably analyze why but don't have the energy.

Actually, I don't even seem to have the energy to talk in full sentences.

Goodnight all.

Seating Issues

I'm here! Home safe and sound! Yay for home! Must go to bed now because of quiz meet early in the morning.

The best and funniest part of my trip: between Cincinatti and Huntsville I sat in the wrong row, directly behind the seat I was actually supposed to occupy. No one noticed. I didn't notice until halfway through the flight. Is that not hilarious?! I feel like I should make a funny dramatization of it.

I can now say that I sat in the wrong seat for an entire flight.

[uncontrollable laughter]

Should that be this funny, or am I only slap-happy from being home?

The Plan

Today I'm headed home. I was up till one last night packing and doing a load of laundry so I have underwear to wear today (I thought that was kind of important). And.... I was bad and skipped my first class this morning so I could pack and clean up before I leave. I feel like that's pretty important stuff to do though, and we were only going to be sketching small objects again, which I can do very well on my own over break. So, I skipped. I have some errands to run yet, and I need to eat breakfast sometime, but I'm pretty much set I think. I leave at about 4 pm PA time, and my flight leaves at 5:20 pm PA time.

It's so ironic that my body is finally on a schedule this week, and now I'm going home where I'll mess it all up again by getting too much sleep. = )

I should arrive home about 11 or 11:30 PA time, 10 or 10:30 AL time. I'm sure you'll hear from me after that, considering that I have become a compulsive blogger. Do you realize that I've been blogging pretty much every day for five months now? That's a lot of words! If anyone ever tried to catch up on the happenings of my life by reading the back issues of my blog they'd have their work seriously cut out for them.

I have to swim over spring break.... why on earth do the life fitness people not give us a break? OK, if they expect me to work out for an hour, they are seriously mistaken. Frankly, if they expect anyone to actually work out, they are ..... well, that word's not polite. But you get the idea.

Ok, I'm going to stop compulsively typing now and go eat breakfast. Good-bye everyone! [waves hand wildly at computer screen] Bye!

Stupid Essay

Well, that was a speedy resolution to one of my problems. I have a roommate for next year. One who sleeps at night and everything! = )

And.... the poetic identity crisis is still going strong, only it's been joined by an all-around academic identity crisis, or at least an all-around ability-crisis. I feel like I can't do anything, I don't want to do anything, I'm sick of trying, I can never be the best or even good, I hate everything, I just want to go home. Someplace where they already know how incompetent I am and they love me anyway!

Can I just say that I hate Bible papers really a lot? I mean really really really a lot. I keep thinking (with the procrastinating half of my brain) that if I leave it long enough, it will write itself just as easily as the roommate question resolved itself. And then my perfectionistic half starts screaming and wailing and saying, "It won't be any good! I know it won't be! I don't want to turn in anything that sucks!" And my evil half (Yes, that was three halves) says "Hey, I wonder if you can get someone to tell you the answers?" And then the other two halves start beating it with sticks. After which the fourth half shouts for them to all shut up, and of course they don't. It's like a dual-personality shouting match in my head. No wonder I can't write the stupid essay.

Alright then, I'm going to go write the stupid essay.

Crisis - AGAIN

The verdict is in: I am not an RA. Ah well. The frantic search for roommates begins.

Another verdict is in: I'm having a poetic identity crisis.... Why does hearing good poetry always make me feel so ... inadequate, if not downright inferior? I went to a poetry reading tonight by one of the faculty. Matthew Roth, to be exact. Professor Perrin introduced him, and she was positive enough to make me very biased in his favor, and then I heard the poetry.... And I was captivated. I remember little of the actual sense of his words - it was probably all very modern - but I can still hear his voice and those music-smooth words echoing in my head. And now I feel inferior. How did I even dare to dream of writing poetry?

I had a rant planned - actually I wrote it out and everything - about how art is not a below-par way of glorifying God (and, coincedentally making a living), but I'm too tired right now to make it coherent.... So you'll just have to wait, or else you might never hear it. You could try provoking me into ranting, but I might just burst into tears at this point. I want it to be spring break so I can be at home with my family without all these frighteningly brilliant people making me feel all uncomfortable and motivated. I no sooner feel slightly at home with my abilities and my calling and then suddenly there comes a storm, other people's brilliance and my own inferiority complexes combining to make me extremely uncomfortable with myself, my talents, and.... well.... everything in general.

So.... I think that means it must be time for bed. Just as soon as I finish my anthropology reading....

Prolific - Good or Evil?

Ok, so, it was a mistake to post before the end of the day. When will I learn that some of the funnest stuff happens at dinner? Never post before dinner! And quite a bit of my thinking happens at work! Never post before work!

I was thinking today (at work of course) that I write too much. And I mean way too much. I write at least 500 words a day in one venue or another, and that's on days without essays to write. I blog every day. Who in their right mind is going to read that much print?! It's depressing to think that I write so much not even my closest friends could possibly motivate themselves enough to read all of it.

We say "prolific" with awe, as if it's something good. But what if it's not? We never stop to ask ourselves if being prolific is a trial or not! We just assume it's a gift! But who wants to write if nothing good comes out? Or if no one reads it?

I've decided that I have some serious blogging ego issues. I like to see my words in print. Sad thing is, I'm not likely to stop blogging either, unless my readers cry out for it to stop (if this describes you, comment already! Oh wait. You won't have read this. Nevermind.). Otherwise I might keep pontificating in my little sector of the internet forever.

I dedicate this post to the few people who actually read my blog. Faithfully or not.... at least you read it. I even forgive you if you skim. I can't really blame you after all.

Today's favorite memory: Walking to dinner behind a group of (apparently attractive) girls. I noticed, about the same time they did, a large snowman off to the left of the Lottie entrance, and some random guy videotaping it. At that instant, the snowman spoke.... Something about "icy hot snowman is available".... Yes. They actually built a snowman around a guy. And he actually stayed in there for, I hear, several hours. Now that was funny performance art.

Ah, Dr. Cobb

"You can commodify anything," said Dr. Cobb, belaboring his point about American consumerism. I could barely contain the urge to shout (yes, right in the middle of anthropology) "You can food anything if you eat it!" As it was, I contented myself with mentally berating Dr. Cobb: "Get Fuzzy, man!"

After all, he's always telling us to practice cultural relativism! Get Fuzzy is an irreplacable culture of its own, made to be treasured and passed down to future generations of slap-happy students.

*sigh of contentment* Get Fuzzy. It makes my life so much more fun.