I have nothing really to say. I just wanted to share the amazing alternate title for a flock of magpies. Tidings of magpies. How much cooler is that? ("And the storm brought tidings of magpies clustering down into our oak trees.")
Also, a random fact: Last year, I posted an average of .50410958904109 times per day. (I've resolved to live up to the new shirt Avery gave me - "Math is Delicious - now with more integers!" - by using math in my every day life.)
24 days until Italy.
Latest Italian phrase: io sono americana, mas io parle un po l'italiano (non molto bene).
P.S.
Me: I'm really thirsty!
Aaron: Me too!
Me: We could be thirsty twins!
Dad [walking into the kitchen and throwing his fist in the air]: Damn the torpedoes!
Aaron: Full speed ahead!
P.P.S.
It is now 11:06 p.m., and I have had an epiphany. You know what drives me nuts about praying "heal so-and-so if it is your will Lord," or "heal this marriage if it is your will Lord"? Beyond, that is, larger questions of predestination and free will and what on earth God really wants from us - those are questions I think I will never be able to answer. And anyway, they're not practical questions, I don't think.
No, the problem is this: tacking on that little "if it is your will" seems to evince a complete disbelief in the power of prayer to make change. I mean, what's the use of praying at all if we don't think it will make any change to God's opinion or plans? What about Moses, who changed God's mind and kept him from destroying Israel? or Abraham, who prayed and convinced the Lord to save Lot? Pretty sure they didn't tack on a little wimpy "oh, if it please you sir" on the end. What ever happened to that kind of prayer?
Someone is bound to respond: but we're just seeking to emulate Jesus in the garden, when he sublimated his will ultimately to the Lord's. But I would remind you that Jesus praying the Garden of Gethsemane was not just some quick five-minute walk-in-the-park prayer.
Anyway. Think about it. It is now 11:12, and I am not certain that I will be able to sleep.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
the crescent moon is rising slow
So I've been thinking how weird it would be to be related to a writer. Or married to a writer (where you're sort of related, but not exactly). Particularly if the writer is a writer of non-fiction or poetry, they'd feel the urge to write about all the important family things, even some of the more intimate things that frankly, family members might rather not be discussed with the public. Like what if you went through a divorce with a writer? And the writer wrote about it? Everyone who read those books or poems would know the writer's version of the story, and it's bound to be unflattering to the other party.
And, let's face it, family members who have inside knowledge would have different visceral reactions to hearing certain stories or incidents retold. They might not understand where the author is getting their opinion, or they might be hurt that the author chose to retell this particular thing - maybe even twist it completely out of context, because writers do that. That's one of the first things you learn in college - get over worrying if it's true or not. You wrote it down, it becomes art, so it's a completely different artifact from the experience which occasioned it. If the story works better when you change the details, then you should change the details.
So how does an author draw from the important experiences of life, but still protect the privacy of their family? It's an interesting question. And it introduces a disconnect. Which should give way in any given situation? Your work or your family? Which has more value? Isn't it stereotypical that the families of writers never read their work? Maybe that's why. But that's a disconnect too. 'Cause every kid wants their family to be proud of them. Obviously, I'm not married, so I can't say how it is with a spouse, but I'd imagine that having a spouse value your work is also important.
Maybe this is why there are so many more fiction writers than creative non-fiction or poetry.
Also, does anyone else experience a sense of severe shock when viewing a picture of an author for the first time? They inevitably look nothing - nothing at all - like their writing.
And, let's face it, family members who have inside knowledge would have different visceral reactions to hearing certain stories or incidents retold. They might not understand where the author is getting their opinion, or they might be hurt that the author chose to retell this particular thing - maybe even twist it completely out of context, because writers do that. That's one of the first things you learn in college - get over worrying if it's true or not. You wrote it down, it becomes art, so it's a completely different artifact from the experience which occasioned it. If the story works better when you change the details, then you should change the details.
So how does an author draw from the important experiences of life, but still protect the privacy of their family? It's an interesting question. And it introduces a disconnect. Which should give way in any given situation? Your work or your family? Which has more value? Isn't it stereotypical that the families of writers never read their work? Maybe that's why. But that's a disconnect too. 'Cause every kid wants their family to be proud of them. Obviously, I'm not married, so I can't say how it is with a spouse, but I'd imagine that having a spouse value your work is also important.
Maybe this is why there are so many more fiction writers than creative non-fiction or poetry.
Also, does anyone else experience a sense of severe shock when viewing a picture of an author for the first time? They inevitably look nothing - nothing at all - like their writing.
Monday, January 29, 2007
"full of stone-sober people who are drunk on liturgy"
- Kathleen Norris
I've been reading Kathleen Norris's Cloister Walk in preparation for living in a convent, and it's actually really good. I wasn't expecting to like it (basically because I don't like nonfiction books in general, and if it's shelved in the inspirational section, count me out). It makes a lot of connections between the poetic life and the monastic life, which I think helps articulate why so many poets I know really like liturgy. Also it talks about the basic concepts behind the vows of celibacy that I've never heard discussed before in the light of monastic tradition. I'm about halfway through, and it's interesting enough that I might actually finish it (not something I can say about many nonfiction books). I am not so optimistic about Brunelleschi's Dome.
Aaron is sick today. Hopefully he will get better soon, 'cause it's some nasty kind of flu crap. Definitely not cool.
Mom told me a funny story today. So, in the true ecumenical spirit (pretty sure I used that word completely wrong) I'm going to share it with all of you, including my own special little embellishments.
ZOMBIE DUCK
Once upon a time there was a man. This man, like many men in America today, drove a car. One day, as he was driving along, jiving to his music, he ran over a duck and killed it stone dead. He thought, Why, this is a plump duck. It would be a shame to waste it. So he took the duck home and put it in his fridge for dinner at a future date. His wife thought Oh great, a bloody dead duck in my fridge waiting to be plucked and cleaned and cooked, but she was fond of a good duck l'orange herself, so she put up with it.
Two days later, when she opened the fridge to pour out a delicious glass of her favorite beverage, the duck raised its head.
The wife considered screaming "ZOMBIE DUCK!", slamming the fridge door, screaming her lungs out and then fetching her husband's shotgun to finish the undead creature off, but ultimately rejected this reasonable course of action. Instead, she took the duck out and rushed it to the veterinarian, somehow making the gargantuan leap of understanding to realize that the duck was, in fact, completely and absurdly alive.
At the vet's, they took drastic measures to save the life of the eponymous duck, even performing surgery. Unfortunately, the duck had a rare allergic reaction to the anesthesia the vet administered. Still, the duck decided that since it had survived being hit with a car and spending two days in a refrigerator without dying, it was not going to let a little medication mishap prevent it from flying south once again. So it lived. And lives on, to this day.
Except that a small minority believes it is undead to this day.
I've been reading Kathleen Norris's Cloister Walk in preparation for living in a convent, and it's actually really good. I wasn't expecting to like it (basically because I don't like nonfiction books in general, and if it's shelved in the inspirational section, count me out). It makes a lot of connections between the poetic life and the monastic life, which I think helps articulate why so many poets I know really like liturgy. Also it talks about the basic concepts behind the vows of celibacy that I've never heard discussed before in the light of monastic tradition. I'm about halfway through, and it's interesting enough that I might actually finish it (not something I can say about many nonfiction books). I am not so optimistic about Brunelleschi's Dome.
Aaron is sick today. Hopefully he will get better soon, 'cause it's some nasty kind of flu crap. Definitely not cool.
Mom told me a funny story today. So, in the true ecumenical spirit (pretty sure I used that word completely wrong) I'm going to share it with all of you, including my own special little embellishments.
ZOMBIE DUCK
Once upon a time there was a man. This man, like many men in America today, drove a car. One day, as he was driving along, jiving to his music, he ran over a duck and killed it stone dead. He thought, Why, this is a plump duck. It would be a shame to waste it. So he took the duck home and put it in his fridge for dinner at a future date. His wife thought Oh great, a bloody dead duck in my fridge waiting to be plucked and cleaned and cooked, but she was fond of a good duck l'orange herself, so she put up with it.
Two days later, when she opened the fridge to pour out a delicious glass of her favorite beverage, the duck raised its head.
The wife considered screaming "ZOMBIE DUCK!", slamming the fridge door, screaming her lungs out and then fetching her husband's shotgun to finish the undead creature off, but ultimately rejected this reasonable course of action. Instead, she took the duck out and rushed it to the veterinarian, somehow making the gargantuan leap of understanding to realize that the duck was, in fact, completely and absurdly alive.
At the vet's, they took drastic measures to save the life of the eponymous duck, even performing surgery. Unfortunately, the duck had a rare allergic reaction to the anesthesia the vet administered. Still, the duck decided that since it had survived being hit with a car and spending two days in a refrigerator without dying, it was not going to let a little medication mishap prevent it from flying south once again. So it lived. And lives on, to this day.
Except that a small minority believes it is undead to this day.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
airplanes are more universal than potties
- Jenn
I. . . feel better, actually. Not sure why. It may be due to the fact that my headache is gone.
Aaron is 18! Wooh! I totally remember when he was like 5. Dude, I remember when he got the training wheels off his bike. = )
Epic Movie. . . not really worth seeing. Although when they installed Lucy onto her throne, and announced her title? That was amazing. But Emma? Yeah, I do like that movie an awful lot. And props to Abbi for watching it with me yet again. Jane Austen books somehow get really good adaptations. And yes, I'm aware that liking Emma makes me both really girly and really literature-geeky, but I'm at peace with that.
I exchanged dollars for some euros last week. And got a CD version of Italian, so I can hear what it sounds like! Also I resolved never to be reincarnated as a cow. And I realized that a semester is not that long of a time. It's not like I'm planning on moving permanently to Italy. Or even for a whole year. So it will be OK even if I freak out and become completely socially inept. Yes?
I know this post should be less self-absorbed. But really nothing ever happens here. I just think a lot. So when exciting things happen in Italy, I will be ten times more interesting.
[Aaron: "Just say: I'm not self-absorbed. I'm introspective."]
27 days till Italy.
I. . . feel better, actually. Not sure why. It may be due to the fact that my headache is gone.
Aaron is 18! Wooh! I totally remember when he was like 5. Dude, I remember when he got the training wheels off his bike. = )
Epic Movie. . . not really worth seeing. Although when they installed Lucy onto her throne, and announced her title? That was amazing. But Emma? Yeah, I do like that movie an awful lot. And props to Abbi for watching it with me yet again. Jane Austen books somehow get really good adaptations. And yes, I'm aware that liking Emma makes me both really girly and really literature-geeky, but I'm at peace with that.
I exchanged dollars for some euros last week. And got a CD version of Italian, so I can hear what it sounds like! Also I resolved never to be reincarnated as a cow. And I realized that a semester is not that long of a time. It's not like I'm planning on moving permanently to Italy. Or even for a whole year. So it will be OK even if I freak out and become completely socially inept. Yes?
I know this post should be less self-absorbed. But really nothing ever happens here. I just think a lot. So when exciting things happen in Italy, I will be ten times more interesting.
[Aaron: "Just say: I'm not self-absorbed. I'm introspective."]
27 days till Italy.
Friday, January 26, 2007
a shrewdness of apes
Whoa! I so totally started learning Italian today! I can now say, buon giorno, buon sera, buon notte, and mi chiama Mackenzie. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to pronounce any of that. Um... or spell most of it, actually.
My Italian address is going to be:
[my name], Gordon College Program
Insituto San Ludovico
Piazza Ranieri 5
05018 Orvieto, TR
ITALY
If you want to write to me, I would love it. If not, then that's OK too.
I think I have officially hit the freaking-out period for the Italy trip. There's a lot to get done and a lot to prepare for before I leave. Also, I've never traveled internationally by myself before. Does anyone know if they repeat announcemenets on international flights in English? I'd hate to miss my connection flight from Amsterdam to Rome because I don't speak Italian or Dutch. Also, do airports in Italy have the same kind of luggage-collection system once you get there? Are the signs for the exits etc. in English as well as Italian? Where do I meet the Orvieto person? Aaaaahhhhhhh!
Also, what if I'm not competent to go grocery-shopping those first couple of days when I'm there? What if I don't know the right words? What if I offend the nuns? What if I have a nervous breakdown? What if. . . .
My Italian address is going to be:
[my name], Gordon College Program
Insituto San Ludovico
Piazza Ranieri 5
05018 Orvieto, TR
ITALY
If you want to write to me, I would love it. If not, then that's OK too.
I think I have officially hit the freaking-out period for the Italy trip. There's a lot to get done and a lot to prepare for before I leave. Also, I've never traveled internationally by myself before. Does anyone know if they repeat announcemenets on international flights in English? I'd hate to miss my connection flight from Amsterdam to Rome because I don't speak Italian or Dutch. Also, do airports in Italy have the same kind of luggage-collection system once you get there? Are the signs for the exits etc. in English as well as Italian? Where do I meet the Orvieto person? Aaaaahhhhhhh!
Also, what if I'm not competent to go grocery-shopping those first couple of days when I'm there? What if I don't know the right words? What if I offend the nuns? What if I have a nervous breakdown? What if. . . .
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
what i find depressing is that blogger now tells me how many posts i've written
and it's topped 500. I just feel like that's a lot of talking from one person. Hopefully at least some of them were amusing and/or worth reading. If you're going to tell me "No," then don't answer at all, please.
Alternate title for this post: "You won't let those robots eat me."
Weird thing: I think I might actually like the Flaming Lips. They crack me up a lot, and also they are mellow-sounding. But then I realize that the name of the band is the Flaming Lips, and somehow I am less sure that I like them. Their website is also pink. But maybe I should not let that prejudice me if I actually enjoy the music? This is also considering that I have only heard one album.
Mom: Do you know what a paradox is?
Avery: It's kind of like a metaphor.
Aaron: A paradox? It's a flying dinosaur!
Did I tell you about the new Minnemingo? Danielle has an amazing poem in it, and so does Kenny Johns (whoever that is). Actually he has two, but I really liked "The Glass Man and the Jazz Piano." Kenny Johns also wrote just about the best bio for the back of the volume. And I loved Julia & Heather's introductory letter. Also Helen Walker wrote the most amazing poem ever called "Talking to my Daughter as if my Words Might Help." I mean, it's amazing. In my opinion it's worth the five dollars just for Helen's poem.
On an unrelated note, I wish I was one of those students who would totally call my favorite professors by their first names, but I'm really afraid of offending someone. The closest I can get is calling Daniel Finch by both his names, and he specifically told us to call him by his first name if we wanted. It just feels odd. I got yelled at in ninth grade for not responding to my teachers with "ma'am," and I think it made me paranoid.
I miss all of you. I think that I should stay at Messiah for the rest of forever.
Alternate title for this post: "You won't let those robots eat me."
Weird thing: I think I might actually like the Flaming Lips. They crack me up a lot, and also they are mellow-sounding. But then I realize that the name of the band is the Flaming Lips, and somehow I am less sure that I like them. Their website is also pink. But maybe I should not let that prejudice me if I actually enjoy the music? This is also considering that I have only heard one album.
Mom: Do you know what a paradox is?
Avery: It's kind of like a metaphor.
Aaron: A paradox? It's a flying dinosaur!
Did I tell you about the new Minnemingo? Danielle has an amazing poem in it, and so does Kenny Johns (whoever that is). Actually he has two, but I really liked "The Glass Man and the Jazz Piano." Kenny Johns also wrote just about the best bio for the back of the volume. And I loved Julia & Heather's introductory letter. Also Helen Walker wrote the most amazing poem ever called "Talking to my Daughter as if my Words Might Help." I mean, it's amazing. In my opinion it's worth the five dollars just for Helen's poem.
On an unrelated note, I wish I was one of those students who would totally call my favorite professors by their first names, but I'm really afraid of offending someone. The closest I can get is calling Daniel Finch by both his names, and he specifically told us to call him by his first name if we wanted. It just feels odd. I got yelled at in ninth grade for not responding to my teachers with "ma'am," and I think it made me paranoid.
I miss all of you. I think that I should stay at Messiah for the rest of forever.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
"whoa, are you next gen.? 'cause your graphics are totally awesome."
- Avery & Matthew's attempt at inventing the geekiest pickup line ever.
Alternate title for this post: "somebody's told me it's gonna take patience."
One good thing about Alabama: gas is under $2! Yes, you heard me! Yesterday when I drove back from Madison, gas was $1.93! It's like a flashback to the innocent days of my youth....
Possibly the reason I'm making no progress on my rewrite of the dragon lady is that I am irrationally OK with life right now. Not sure quite what I'm basking in, but I feel like I'm basking in the light of something. Maybe it's enough sleep and good food and good books and the interwebs.
Also, I have discovered that when I'm getting enough sleep, I have really vivid dreams (that I actually remember). This morning it was something like a mix between Super Mario (you know, breaking blocks with your head) and Diana Wynne Jones books.
As I'm working with Avery on his research paper, I find myself wanting to say, "Just put some effort into it and your life will be cake." Do you think Daniel Finch has that copyrighted? Am I cheating if I use his turn of phrase? Or if I start crits with Avery by saying, "OK, talk to me. What are you thinking?" Pretty sure my urge to use those phrases is just a function of me wanting to grow up and teach exactly half like Daniel Finch (the other half will preferably be exactly like Professor Perrin).
Wouldn't it be interesting if someday I was a professor and Daniel Finch or Professor Perrin came to visit my class, and I was using their style or phrasing? Pretty sure that would be awkward. They might think I was mocking them. So you have to help me invent my own unique phrasing. And style, although I'm pretty sure most professors have a sort of indeterminate syle.
You know, I'll tell you something about this semester. It boosted my art confidence a bit. I no longer feel like I'm a much better writer than I am an artist (although I still might have a bit of a writing edge), and I'm no longer certain that once out of college I have absolutely no chance of getting accepted for an art grad school program or finding an art job. I'm cautiously optimistic, due in large part to Andy Bale. So... thank you, Andy Bale?
Also, I have had too much caffeine this morning. So if I have spelled things terribly wrong, it's just because the caffeine is making my typing skills a little unwieldy.
Also, I have slightly elevated cholesterol. Who knew? I thought that was something only middle-aged or old people had to worry about.
Alternate title for this post: "somebody's told me it's gonna take patience."
One good thing about Alabama: gas is under $2! Yes, you heard me! Yesterday when I drove back from Madison, gas was $1.93! It's like a flashback to the innocent days of my youth....
Possibly the reason I'm making no progress on my rewrite of the dragon lady is that I am irrationally OK with life right now. Not sure quite what I'm basking in, but I feel like I'm basking in the light of something. Maybe it's enough sleep and good food and good books and the interwebs.
Also, I have discovered that when I'm getting enough sleep, I have really vivid dreams (that I actually remember). This morning it was something like a mix between Super Mario (you know, breaking blocks with your head) and Diana Wynne Jones books.
As I'm working with Avery on his research paper, I find myself wanting to say, "Just put some effort into it and your life will be cake." Do you think Daniel Finch has that copyrighted? Am I cheating if I use his turn of phrase? Or if I start crits with Avery by saying, "OK, talk to me. What are you thinking?" Pretty sure my urge to use those phrases is just a function of me wanting to grow up and teach exactly half like Daniel Finch (the other half will preferably be exactly like Professor Perrin).
Wouldn't it be interesting if someday I was a professor and Daniel Finch or Professor Perrin came to visit my class, and I was using their style or phrasing? Pretty sure that would be awkward. They might think I was mocking them. So you have to help me invent my own unique phrasing. And style, although I'm pretty sure most professors have a sort of indeterminate syle.
You know, I'll tell you something about this semester. It boosted my art confidence a bit. I no longer feel like I'm a much better writer than I am an artist (although I still might have a bit of a writing edge), and I'm no longer certain that once out of college I have absolutely no chance of getting accepted for an art grad school program or finding an art job. I'm cautiously optimistic, due in large part to Andy Bale. So... thank you, Andy Bale?
Also, I have had too much caffeine this morning. So if I have spelled things terribly wrong, it's just because the caffeine is making my typing skills a little unwieldy.
Also, I have slightly elevated cholesterol. Who knew? I thought that was something only middle-aged or old people had to worry about.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
"one day i was satisfied with my little ponies. the next i painted them black and burned them."
- Scary Go Round
For those of you who have received My Little Pony RPG points, beware. Someday you will be taken down off the shelf, forego all your sparkles, and be painted an angsty, soul-crushing black.
So I'm back in AL. In one way I guess it's a sign of a successful trip that I really hated leaving Messiah again. In the more obvious way, it just kind of sucks. But I was still really glad to visit. And what kind of wild coincidence is it that they were having the artist's talk and the minnemingo party the same day we were there? And I was glad that some of my family got to see my house and meet my housemates (except Ruth, who was in Seattle). Props to my housemates for being so cool about visitors even when they're dying of homework (it's a terrible malady, it's true).
My new favorite MST3K : Danger! Death Ray. Pretty much it's even better than Deathstalker and the Warriors from Hell (who turn out to be good guys).
I need to get out more. I'm thinkin' I should go to Huntsville and see all those new silver sculptures Aaron said were so cool.... and yes, maybe go to First Bible again even though I'm not into predestination, just for the sheer reason of meeting new people and making life in AL a little more interesting. Yes?
Did I mention Greg owns one of those old Nintendos and also Duck Hunt? Yes. It's true.
Also, today I received shipping confirmation for my Italian books. SCARY! Pretty much I'm freaking out. And then really excited. So. We'll see. Probably it will be great. I'll just have to get over sounding like an idiot.
For those of you who have received My Little Pony RPG points, beware. Someday you will be taken down off the shelf, forego all your sparkles, and be painted an angsty, soul-crushing black.
So I'm back in AL. In one way I guess it's a sign of a successful trip that I really hated leaving Messiah again. In the more obvious way, it just kind of sucks. But I was still really glad to visit. And what kind of wild coincidence is it that they were having the artist's talk and the minnemingo party the same day we were there? And I was glad that some of my family got to see my house and meet my housemates (except Ruth, who was in Seattle). Props to my housemates for being so cool about visitors even when they're dying of homework (it's a terrible malady, it's true).
My new favorite MST3K : Danger! Death Ray. Pretty much it's even better than Deathstalker and the Warriors from Hell (who turn out to be good guys).
I need to get out more. I'm thinkin' I should go to Huntsville and see all those new silver sculptures Aaron said were so cool.... and yes, maybe go to First Bible again even though I'm not into predestination, just for the sheer reason of meeting new people and making life in AL a little more interesting. Yes?
Did I mention Greg owns one of those old Nintendos and also Duck Hunt? Yes. It's true.
Also, today I received shipping confirmation for my Italian books. SCARY! Pretty much I'm freaking out. And then really excited. So. We'll see. Probably it will be great. I'll just have to get over sounding like an idiot.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
where my lasers at?
"My name is Paul."
"That's AWESOME! I have to sing a song now."
- Excerpt from "I think I have a Chance with This Guy," a song from "Strong Bad Sing and Other Type Hits." Avery got it for Christmas. It drives my mom nuts, but it's pretty freaking amazing.
Also something that's pretty freaking amazing? I finished the story! I mean, obviously now I have to go back and rewrite it, and it's not nearly long enough to be a book, but you know, I'm not even going to worry about it. Something will work out. I'm just going to enjoy the glow of finishing the story. And worry about beginning the rewrite process tomorrow. So there. = D
Also a good thing! The Minnemingo review party is on the Friday I'm going to be at Messiah! So I actually get to go. Wooh!
"That's AWESOME! I have to sing a song now."
- Excerpt from "I think I have a Chance with This Guy," a song from "Strong Bad Sing and Other Type Hits." Avery got it for Christmas. It drives my mom nuts, but it's pretty freaking amazing.
Also something that's pretty freaking amazing? I finished the story! I mean, obviously now I have to go back and rewrite it, and it's not nearly long enough to be a book, but you know, I'm not even going to worry about it. Something will work out. I'm just going to enjoy the glow of finishing the story. And worry about beginning the rewrite process tomorrow. So there. = D
Also a good thing! The Minnemingo review party is on the Friday I'm going to be at Messiah! So I actually get to go. Wooh!
Monday, January 15, 2007
while i lay, i'd dream we're better, scales were gone and faces lighter,
So, I didn't quite catch up over the weekend on all of those extra words. So I guess I'm going to have to do an extra page every day this week, which may be doable, if I don't fall flat on my face, tripping over the terribly steep steps of discipline.
Hi (waves wildly at computer screen)! I'm coming up to Messiah late Thursday night this week. And I'll be there Friday, and probably leave early Saturday morning. Aaron is interviewing for the honors program, so I'm tagging along (did I tell you guys he got a 33 last time he took the ACT? I mean, dude! Rock on Aaron). If anyone is free... talk to me! We'll get together. I think Sharon and I are planning to have lunch in the Union on Friday (with whoever else would like to come), and I'm going to eat dinner with my housemates. And probably hang out with Greg sometime, and we'll see what else! I'm realizing that one day at Messiah really isn't that much.
Yesterday I went to church by myself, which made me feel brave. = ) And then I... provoked discussion in sunday school, which made me feel a little conspicuous. I'm not sure if I was asking questions to test what people there really think (or their intelligence or something) or asking questions because I really care about the answers. Anyway, I'm trying to decide whether I should go back next Sunday. Yes? No? Input?
Hi (waves wildly at computer screen)! I'm coming up to Messiah late Thursday night this week. And I'll be there Friday, and probably leave early Saturday morning. Aaron is interviewing for the honors program, so I'm tagging along (did I tell you guys he got a 33 last time he took the ACT? I mean, dude! Rock on Aaron). If anyone is free... talk to me! We'll get together. I think Sharon and I are planning to have lunch in the Union on Friday (with whoever else would like to come), and I'm going to eat dinner with my housemates. And probably hang out with Greg sometime, and we'll see what else! I'm realizing that one day at Messiah really isn't that much.
Yesterday I went to church by myself, which made me feel brave. = ) And then I... provoked discussion in sunday school, which made me feel a little conspicuous. I'm not sure if I was asking questions to test what people there really think (or their intelligence or something) or asking questions because I really care about the answers. Anyway, I'm trying to decide whether I should go back next Sunday. Yes? No? Input?
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Saturday, January 13, 2007
amid the rumours and the expectations/and all the stories dreamt and lived
So, maybe I'm kind of behind the times. But have you guys seen either of these?
The National Beard Registry
An Onion article from like the year 2000.
Also, I'm behind the times on birthdays! This month Liz had a birthday, and Sharon will have a birthday! Wooh! Liz finally reached the fabled 21 years of age, so we know it's not actually an unattainable myth. = ) And Sharon will join the ranks of the 20-year-olds!
Also? I'm behind the times on my writing goals. But that is not such a fun story, so I will go back and work and talk to you later. When I have acheived said goals and no longer feel the sneaking finger of guilt poking me on the shoulder.
The National Beard Registry
An Onion article from like the year 2000.
Also, I'm behind the times on birthdays! This month Liz had a birthday, and Sharon will have a birthday! Wooh! Liz finally reached the fabled 21 years of age, so we know it's not actually an unattainable myth. = ) And Sharon will join the ranks of the 20-year-olds!
Also? I'm behind the times on my writing goals. But that is not such a fun story, so I will go back and work and talk to you later. When I have acheived said goals and no longer feel the sneaking finger of guilt poking me on the shoulder.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
"and the eye of the little bird / glittered more impatiently than gems"
Me [strumming air guitar]: "I'm tired of makin' out on the telephone... and you're so far away from me... "
Aaron: "Well, I'll tell you one thing: pirates don't make out on the telephone. They arrrrrrrr-gue."
Welcome to the Martin household.
(title part of "Unstrung" by Eleanor Wilner)
Today, 1,500 words was like pulling teeth. Mostly, I think, because I have run out of ideas for how the plot goes. Conclusions, as I'm sure Liz will tell you, are terrible and take forever. Yes, although at the end of today I will have around 22,000 words, I'm a week or so away from a conclusion. Pretty much I'm going to have to flesh things out when I go back and rewrite - or something. I'm pretty determined that this will be a full-sized novel.
Yesterday I spilled superglue on my finger, and now it's all shiny and feels weird. It's kind of like fingernail polish, except that it doesn't come off at all.
My mom, brother, and I are coming up to Messiah to visit on January 19 (Aaron's doing the whole honors-program interview thing), so if anyone is around and wants to hang out, that would be cool (although I know J-term can be very intense, so I'm not insulted if I don't see everyone).
Happy new semester. I feel like they should have "happy new semester" mugs that are black as the prospect of more homework. In a very doleful font.
Aaron: "Well, I'll tell you one thing: pirates don't make out on the telephone. They arrrrrrrr-gue."
Welcome to the Martin household.
(title part of "Unstrung" by Eleanor Wilner)
Today, 1,500 words was like pulling teeth. Mostly, I think, because I have run out of ideas for how the plot goes. Conclusions, as I'm sure Liz will tell you, are terrible and take forever. Yes, although at the end of today I will have around 22,000 words, I'm a week or so away from a conclusion. Pretty much I'm going to have to flesh things out when I go back and rewrite - or something. I'm pretty determined that this will be a full-sized novel.
Yesterday I spilled superglue on my finger, and now it's all shiny and feels weird. It's kind of like fingernail polish, except that it doesn't come off at all.
My mom, brother, and I are coming up to Messiah to visit on January 19 (Aaron's doing the whole honors-program interview thing), so if anyone is around and wants to hang out, that would be cool (although I know J-term can be very intense, so I'm not insulted if I don't see everyone).
Happy new semester. I feel like they should have "happy new semester" mugs that are black as the prospect of more homework. In a very doleful font.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
"for they most dreadfully have dogged my dreams"
- Eleanor Wilner
And now, an excerpt from Terry Pratchett:
"Life in this world," Didactylos said, "is, as it were, a sojourn in a cave. What can we know of reality? For all we see of the true nature of existence is, shall we say, no more than bewildering and amusing shadows cast upon the inner wall of the cave by the unseen blinding light of absolute truth, from which we may or may not deduce some glimmer of veracity, and we as troglodyte seekers of wisdom can only lift our voices to the unseen and say, humbly, 'Go on, do Deformed Rabbit. . . it's my favorite.' "
This excerpt has been brought to you courtesty of writing 1,500 words a day (and the attendent procrastination).
And now, an excerpt from Terry Pratchett:
"Life in this world," Didactylos said, "is, as it were, a sojourn in a cave. What can we know of reality? For all we see of the true nature of existence is, shall we say, no more than bewildering and amusing shadows cast upon the inner wall of the cave by the unseen blinding light of absolute truth, from which we may or may not deduce some glimmer of veracity, and we as troglodyte seekers of wisdom can only lift our voices to the unseen and say, humbly, 'Go on, do Deformed Rabbit. . . it's my favorite.' "
This excerpt has been brought to you courtesty of writing 1,500 words a day (and the attendent procrastination).
Monday, January 08, 2007
"any time anyone talks to me about vision, i check to see where my wallet is."
- some beurocrat on NPR this morning.
I love how halfway through the weekend I realize why none of my webcomics are updating. Duh! It's the weekend! Even webcomic artists take a few days off here and there.
The alternate title for this post? "You don't want to insult baristas. They're like urban ninjas."
Today I wrote 1500 words. I thought it would take longer than it did. I might actually be able to do this. I think I might take weekends off, though. We'll see, I guess.
Don't you Messiah people start school tomorrow? I hope it goes well. Unless I'm high and you've started school already, in which case I wish for rehab. = )
I love how halfway through the weekend I realize why none of my webcomics are updating. Duh! It's the weekend! Even webcomic artists take a few days off here and there.
The alternate title for this post? "You don't want to insult baristas. They're like urban ninjas."
Today I wrote 1500 words. I thought it would take longer than it did. I might actually be able to do this. I think I might take weekends off, though. We'll see, I guess.
Don't you Messiah people start school tomorrow? I hope it goes well. Unless I'm high and you've started school already, in which case I wish for rehab. = )
Sunday, January 07, 2007
a glimpse of your back-side glory and this soaked altar, going ablaze
http://www.art-critic.com/
Highly recommended. For people that don't mind a little cussing, anyway. I think my favorite page may be the testimonials. Are those serious responses...?
Tomorrow I'm going to start writing. We'll see how that goes. I'm currently debating whether I should up my word-limit on weekdays so that I can take the weekends off, or whether I should try and write every day. Input? From people that write a lot?
Highly recommended. For people that don't mind a little cussing, anyway. I think my favorite page may be the testimonials. Are those serious responses...?
Tomorrow I'm going to start writing. We'll see how that goes. I'm currently debating whether I should up my word-limit on weekdays so that I can take the weekends off, or whether I should try and write every day. Input? From people that write a lot?
supercallafragelistic-EXP-alladocious
What do you think, emblazoned on the front of a black-as-the-human-soul t-shirt? And on the back it would say, "Dungeons and Bunnies since 2004." Unless, of course, Dungeons and Bunnies really started in 2005. I already have a font picked out: univers. Eh?
Today I went to the coffee shop. Pretty cool new building, I have to say. It makes me wish I was making a steady income in between now and leaving for Italy, so that I could justify wasting money on expensive coffee. But that would leave drastically less money for wasting on fun things in Europe, so I'm trying to have self-control. Apprently J personalities are the best at keeping their checkbooks balanced and sticking to budgets and that kind of thing.
Do people know their meyer's briggs personality indicators? We (most of my family) found out over Christmas break, and it was very interesting. I'm a pretty strong INFP, which is what Jean Corey (she taught Composition Theory and Pedagogy) thought. I think it's probably my English-major bit that's so fascinated by all the new words for classifying people's personalities. I mean, that's a large part of what we do as English majors, right? We list things, we describe things, we seek to define things (Helen Walker is always saying how powerful a good list is. She gave out an 'award' for it in my Advanced Writing class.). And the Meyer's-Brigg's test is a whole new handy little confetti-cupcake-mix of words to use in describing and listing, which in turn point out to us new patterns and ways of listing and describing. So. Meyer's-Brigg's. Whole lotta fun.
Dungeons and Bunnies t-shirts: Funny, but probably not practical.
Today I went to the coffee shop. Pretty cool new building, I have to say. It makes me wish I was making a steady income in between now and leaving for Italy, so that I could justify wasting money on expensive coffee. But that would leave drastically less money for wasting on fun things in Europe, so I'm trying to have self-control. Apprently J personalities are the best at keeping their checkbooks balanced and sticking to budgets and that kind of thing.
Do people know their meyer's briggs personality indicators? We (most of my family) found out over Christmas break, and it was very interesting. I'm a pretty strong INFP, which is what Jean Corey (she taught Composition Theory and Pedagogy) thought. I think it's probably my English-major bit that's so fascinated by all the new words for classifying people's personalities. I mean, that's a large part of what we do as English majors, right? We list things, we describe things, we seek to define things (Helen Walker is always saying how powerful a good list is. She gave out an 'award' for it in my Advanced Writing class.). And the Meyer's-Brigg's test is a whole new handy little confetti-cupcake-mix of words to use in describing and listing, which in turn point out to us new patterns and ways of listing and describing. So. Meyer's-Brigg's. Whole lotta fun.
Dungeons and Bunnies t-shirts: Funny, but probably not practical.
Friday, January 05, 2007
make awkward sexual advances, not war
I actually did some things recently. You know, accomplished some tasks. Checked things off my hypothetical list. And I've lined up some things to make. Mostly I'll just be tying off loose ends, working on all those little things I thought of this semester but didn't get the chance to make. So really, the next couple of weeks should be pretty busy - and here's the good part - with things that I am choosing to do. My own reading. My own writing. My own projects. And probably none of them will keep me up until 4 a.m., unless (of course) I feel like they're just so much funner than sleeping. Which is hardly a hardship.
You know what book is great? The Wee Free Men. Pretty much AMAZING. Also, I found a copy of Good Omens at a friendly local library. Woot! = D
Love to all,
Kenzie
You know what book is great? The Wee Free Men. Pretty much AMAZING. Also, I found a copy of Good Omens at a friendly local library. Woot! = D
Love to all,
Kenzie
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
outside in the starshine you can see beyond the wall
I have lost track of the days. I'm pretty sure this is 2007 because we just had a New Year's dinner a few days ago, and I'm pretty sure it's still January. That's all. Is this normal? I wonder if people who go into retirement feel like they're losing their minds. Seriously, I'm forgetting names and words and excerpts from the Bedford Glossary of Literary Terms right and left. Pretty sure I need to do something with my brain in the very near future or I'm going to turn into a quivering mass of jelly.
And you know, even though I didn't have much time to be social last semester at school, I'm missing what social time I did have. I think I said maybe ten sentences today. Also I keep thinking of so many of you all back at Messiah and eating dinner together, and I'm jealous. = )
But maybe I should just start writing, eh? And that will keep me occupied, and drain me of any lazy words that might be lying around? I hope all of you are ready for the semester to start again. Doesn't it start soon? I don't remember when school starts. I don't remember what day it is. But I hope you're ready, because school rarely waits for things like non-scheduled brains.
And you know, even though I didn't have much time to be social last semester at school, I'm missing what social time I did have. I think I said maybe ten sentences today. Also I keep thinking of so many of you all back at Messiah and eating dinner together, and I'm jealous. = )
But maybe I should just start writing, eh? And that will keep me occupied, and drain me of any lazy words that might be lying around? I hope all of you are ready for the semester to start again. Doesn't it start soon? I don't remember when school starts. I don't remember what day it is. But I hope you're ready, because school rarely waits for things like non-scheduled brains.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
