What's your Super Power?
Super Mind-Reading Skills
We can't say for sure whether your mind-reading powers would come from some mystical force, or maybe just from sheer intuition, but in the Flipside Super Universe, that's what we think you'd have. And that's nothing to be trifled with. First, you'd be able to predict the next step in some Super Villain's dastardly plan by looking at their face. But even more importantly, you'd be able to figure out whether that Super Cutie is flirting with you, or just being friendly.
Think we're super wrong? Take the quiz again!
4% of the people who took this quiz got the same evaluation
http://www.the-n.com/games/quiz_main.php?ipv_sectionID=43&ipv_quizID=452
Tuesday, May 06, 2003
Monday, May 05, 2003
Breasts: Their Evolutionary Origins as a Deceptive Signal of Need for Provisioning and Temporary Infertility
Edward M. Miller Professor of Economics and Finance
Female Rewarding of Male Provisioning During Lactation
Even in existing apes food provision can be rewarded with sexual access. Females appear to reward with copulations males who feed them, even having been seen to take meat from the mouth of the male copulating with her (Goodall, 1986, 483-484). Estrous females succeed more often at begging meat from males than non-estrous ones (Goodall, 1986, 483-484). Kano (1979) describes how bonobos (pygmy chimpanzees) presented and copulated with males with fruits they wanted. Once hominids had adopted hunting, males frequently found themselves with meat which could be distributed to females. Males naturally distributed this meat to females who in turn gave them sexual access. [para 22]
Edward M. Miller Professor of Economics and Finance
Female Rewarding of Male Provisioning During Lactation
Even in existing apes food provision can be rewarded with sexual access. Females appear to reward with copulations males who feed them, even having been seen to take meat from the mouth of the male copulating with her (Goodall, 1986, 483-484). Estrous females succeed more often at begging meat from males than non-estrous ones (Goodall, 1986, 483-484). Kano (1979) describes how bonobos (pygmy chimpanzees) presented and copulated with males with fruits they wanted. Once hominids had adopted hunting, males frequently found themselves with meat which could be distributed to females. Males naturally distributed this meat to females who in turn gave them sexual access. [para 22]
Sunday, May 04, 2003
Probably why I’m not rich. . . .
I was bored on Saturday, and when girl is bored, and poor what is she to do? I’ll tell you what she’s to do, she’s to find a friend, drive to a ritzy (and far way) mall try on formal wear and take pictures of each other in the dressing room. (I should have the pictures back Tuesday; maybe I’ll be able to post one for jollies) I was trying to use up some old film, and this seemed the perfect opportunity.
This outing made me realize why God chose me to be poor. It’s prom season, and just when we were finished with our fun, we were walking out of the store when we passed by the juniors section. There, before our eyes was the most amazing dress we had yet seen. It was a Barbie-pink-sparkly-super-poofy-monstrosity. The skirt was four feet in diameter, the dress could stand up by it’s self. It was amazing! My friend immediately grabbed one and ran to the dressing room. I followed with the camera. We got two pictures taken before the attendant said, “I hate to tell you this, but you can’t take pictures in the store.”
DRAT! There was certainly more fun to be had with that dress. However, I obediently put my camera away, as she gathered her skirt to wade back to her changing stall. We continued to talk about that dress the rest of the afternoon, finally concluding, if we were rich we would each buy a dress like that. We would buy all the accessories (shoes, tiara, gloves, costume jewelry (maybe even a wand and a pair of wings!) and dance around the mall. We would ice skate, then take it to the streets.
We would go to important places like Walmart, dollar stores, dollar theater, ghetto skating rink, the falafel place for sure. We would be followed by a camera man, and maybe a cellist.
Life would be good with a Barbie-pink-sparkly-super-poofy dress.
It cost $358.00. I would do it. Maybe that’s why I’m not rich.
I was bored on Saturday, and when girl is bored, and poor what is she to do? I’ll tell you what she’s to do, she’s to find a friend, drive to a ritzy (and far way) mall try on formal wear and take pictures of each other in the dressing room. (I should have the pictures back Tuesday; maybe I’ll be able to post one for jollies) I was trying to use up some old film, and this seemed the perfect opportunity.
This outing made me realize why God chose me to be poor. It’s prom season, and just when we were finished with our fun, we were walking out of the store when we passed by the juniors section. There, before our eyes was the most amazing dress we had yet seen. It was a Barbie-pink-sparkly-super-poofy-monstrosity. The skirt was four feet in diameter, the dress could stand up by it’s self. It was amazing! My friend immediately grabbed one and ran to the dressing room. I followed with the camera. We got two pictures taken before the attendant said, “I hate to tell you this, but you can’t take pictures in the store.”
DRAT! There was certainly more fun to be had with that dress. However, I obediently put my camera away, as she gathered her skirt to wade back to her changing stall. We continued to talk about that dress the rest of the afternoon, finally concluding, if we were rich we would each buy a dress like that. We would buy all the accessories (shoes, tiara, gloves, costume jewelry (maybe even a wand and a pair of wings!) and dance around the mall. We would ice skate, then take it to the streets.
We would go to important places like Walmart, dollar stores, dollar theater, ghetto skating rink, the falafel place for sure. We would be followed by a camera man, and maybe a cellist.
Life would be good with a Barbie-pink-sparkly-super-poofy dress.
It cost $358.00. I would do it. Maybe that’s why I’m not rich.
I went to first Baptist Arlington today. The pastor opened his sermon by asking the congregation to call out some names of Jesus found in scripture. From the last pew in back corner of the sanctuary I wanted to scream "ISA!!"
Why is that the first thing to pop into my head? He should specify which scripture.
Why is that the first thing to pop into my head? He should specify which scripture.
Friday, May 02, 2003
Qui vive! A sentinel's challenge.
Idiom: on the qui vive
On the alert; vigilant: “a loathsome Dublin politico who is on the qui vive for... terrorists” (Julian Moynahan).
[French, (long) live who? (a sentry's challenge to determine a person's political sympathies) : qui, who + vive, third person sing. present subjunctive of vivre, to live.]
qui vive used like the English challenge: ``Who comes there?''
To be on the qui vive, to be on guard; to be watchful and alert, like a sentinel.
qui vive n : condition of heightened watchfulness or preparation for action: "bombers were put on alert during the crisis" [syn: alert]
Idiom: on the qui vive
On the alert; vigilant: “a loathsome Dublin politico who is on the qui vive for... terrorists” (Julian Moynahan).
[French, (long) live who? (a sentry's challenge to determine a person's political sympathies) : qui, who + vive, third person sing. present subjunctive of vivre, to live.]
qui vive used like the English challenge: ``Who comes there?''
To be on the qui vive, to be on guard; to be watchful and alert, like a sentinel.
qui vive n : condition of heightened watchfulness or preparation for action: "bombers were put on alert during the crisis" [syn: alert]
Monday, April 28, 2003
I watched Bubble Boy this weekend. Twice. I endorse it.
“Do what I tell your father to do, just say the pledge of allegiance over and over until it goes away.”
“Have you seen my son?!”
“Yeah, your weird ass son got on a bus with some bright and shiny people, they were heading off to Las Vegas, you know, Satan's anus.”
“Bright and Shiny! Bright! and Shiny! . . . if you save yourself for God, you will get the golden rod!”
“Have you ever been karmically bitch slapped by a six armed goddess?!”
“Do what I tell your father to do, just say the pledge of allegiance over and over until it goes away.”
“Have you seen my son?!”
“Yeah, your weird ass son got on a bus with some bright and shiny people, they were heading off to Las Vegas, you know, Satan's anus.”
“Bright and Shiny! Bright! and Shiny! . . . if you save yourself for God, you will get the golden rod!”
“Have you ever been karmically bitch slapped by a six armed goddess?!”
Thursday, April 24, 2003
Tuesday, April 22, 2003
Sunday, April 20, 2003
She said, “Okay, it’s late, I want you to come right back. You don’t need to be out all night, because I think you both know what kinds of things boys and girls do alone together in the dark.”
I SO wanted to give my most naive and blameless look and say, “No, I don’t know what they do. Is it a Bible study?”
Can I have that red wine vinaigrette if you aren’t going to keep it?
The collective score on the purity test was 71.25. I’m pretty sure the other two were bringing me down. What would EE say?!
I SO wanted to give my most naive and blameless look and say, “No, I don’t know what they do. Is it a Bible study?”
Can I have that red wine vinaigrette if you aren’t going to keep it?
The collective score on the purity test was 71.25. I’m pretty sure the other two were bringing me down. What would EE say?!
Friday, April 18, 2003
Eve Ensler's play "The Vagina Monologues" (a series of explicit speeches on sexuality and repression) was performed at a hotel in Islamabad, Pakistan, in March, by Ms. Ensler and a troupe of local actresses (bundled in their traditional clothing) to an invited audience of 150, who apparently loved it, according to a report in Toronto's Globe and Mail. "If (the play) can happen here, it can happen anywhere," said Ms. Hibaaq Osman, a Somali Muslim activist, who in a fit of enthusiasm renamed the capital city "Vaginabad." "Having these Pakistani women talking about vibrators (is) what it's all about." [Globe and Mail, 3-17-03]
Thursday, April 17, 2003
Something has gone tragically WRONG!
Oh my gosh. I've seen things I did not want see. I've exposed library patrons to things nice little Indian boys and girls should never even know about!!
Wow, I was just going to check on the welovetheiraqiinformationminister site and this warning came up about adult content. "Well," say I to myself, "This must be a joke for last time assuredly I nary saw anything of adult only content." Oh, and alas, how wrong I was! I couldn't close that window fast enough, and when I did, FIVE more popped up! What? I'M FREAKING IN A PUBLIC PLACE!!
So, that being said, I was going to check the site for the latest update concerning the information minister, however, I cannot do it now. I am frightened that parts might start showing up all over the place again.
Seriously, how do they get a porno site with a name ANYWHERE NEAR "welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com"?!
Oh my gosh. I've seen things I did not want see. I've exposed library patrons to things nice little Indian boys and girls should never even know about!!
Wow, I was just going to check on the welovetheiraqiinformationminister site and this warning came up about adult content. "Well," say I to myself, "This must be a joke for last time assuredly I nary saw anything of adult only content." Oh, and alas, how wrong I was! I couldn't close that window fast enough, and when I did, FIVE more popped up! What? I'M FREAKING IN A PUBLIC PLACE!!
So, that being said, I was going to check the site for the latest update concerning the information minister, however, I cannot do it now. I am frightened that parts might start showing up all over the place again.
Seriously, how do they get a porno site with a name ANYWHERE NEAR "welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com"?!
I was honked at and waved at five times, and asked if I wanted a ride twice in the mile and a half walk to school this morning. I think it’s the dress. Not that I'm wearing a particularly alluring dress, but just that it's a dress. For some reason men always look at women wearing dresses differently ... to say the least they are generally more . . . helpful . . . or something along those lines.
Mental note: when traveling on the interstate, always wear a dress. (the whole looking- helpless, “I’m sure I can’t possibly change a tire all by my little ol’ self” bit always works better with a dress.)
Mental note: when traveling on the interstate, always wear a dress. (the whole looking- helpless, “I’m sure I can’t possibly change a tire all by my little ol’ self” bit always works better with a dress.)
Tuesday, April 15, 2003
from www.welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com
"I speak better English than this villain Bush"
"We will welcome them with bullets and shoes."
"We will kill them all........most of them."
"they are nowhere near the airport ..they are lost in the desert...they can not read a compass...they are retarded."
[On surrenders] "Those are not Iraqi soldiers at all. Where did they bring them from?"
"I blame Al-Jazeera - they are marketing for the Americans!"
"They're coming to surrender or be burned in their tanks."
15 April - Breaking news: Iranian paper reports rumor that Mohammed Saeed al-Sahaf (M.S.S.) may have commited suicide by hanging
"I speak better English than this villain Bush"
"We will welcome them with bullets and shoes."
"We will kill them all........most of them."
"they are nowhere near the airport ..they are lost in the desert...they can not read a compass...they are retarded."
[On surrenders] "Those are not Iraqi soldiers at all. Where did they bring them from?"
"I blame Al-Jazeera - they are marketing for the Americans!"
"They're coming to surrender or be burned in their tanks."
15 April - Breaking news: Iranian paper reports rumor that Mohammed Saeed al-Sahaf (M.S.S.) may have commited suicide by hanging
Friday, April 11, 2003
You're the smirk,a frown-smile hybrid that's a
little bit cocky and usually associated with
evil or arrogant,but attractive people.You
probably just don't give a damn,but it's
everyone else's fault if you don't because
you're too awesome to have any real faults.
What Kind of Smile are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
Thursday, April 10, 2003
I had a message on my answering machine last week that said I was fired from my crappy part time job at the satellite company. I suppose I’d been expecting it. I tried for a while to figure out what I had done wrong. The message said it was because there just wasn’t enough work. That was a lie, but, the easiest way out I suppose.
The conclusions I came to were 1. I wasn’t eager or needy enough in the job. They would say, “You want to pick up an extra shift?” I’d say “No.” They’d say, “You want to stay late (No) or come in early?” I’d say, “No.” I came in when I was scheduled, and left on time.
The other thing was the perverted owner of the company. He called the other girls in the office cute little nick-names like “Fat-Ass” and “Useless-Bitch.” He came in one day and insisted on licking some girl’s toes. (What the . . .? I KNOW!) They would laugh at him and act like they thought it was all acceptable behavior. Of course they would only complain when he was gone. I never had the misfortune to meet the man, and I never pretended it was funny when he said asinine things on the phone.
One day he called, cussed everyone out and told them to close the office (in the middle of the day) because he was mad. (You don’t gotta tell me twice) I left. The next day they said they then got yelled at for leaving. I told them he sounded bi-polar and if he ever treated me like he treats the other girls I’d charge him with sexual harassment.
Guess I should keep my mouth shut about all future plans.
Well, being fired solved one problem anyway. Since the ex-boyfriend wanted his ex-wife’s ex-car back the week before, with one less job, I no longer needed to worry about how I was going to get to work.
My friend pointed out that if the opposite had been the case, if I had suddenly gotten a job and a car out of the blue, I’d have a lot to praise God about. I could then, as the Baptists do, say, “It’s all in God’s perfect timing and isn’t it amazing?”
Ah what the heck anyway? “It’s all in God’s perfect timing. Isn’t it amazing?”
Want to know what else is amazing? I got a letter in the mail yesterday that said (lucky me) all my student information has been stolen from the UT system. Bye-bye Identity, see you later Social Security number, been nice knowing you Direct Deposit Bank Information. I’ll miss you--- All My Private Information! Whever gets my ID is going to be sorry they picked me. I don't have anything to take adventage of.
This morning I was informed that my five year old hotmail address had been deleted. Again, it was nice while it lasted, Address Book.
I am blessed to be a blessing.
The conclusions I came to were 1. I wasn’t eager or needy enough in the job. They would say, “You want to pick up an extra shift?” I’d say “No.” They’d say, “You want to stay late (No) or come in early?” I’d say, “No.” I came in when I was scheduled, and left on time.
The other thing was the perverted owner of the company. He called the other girls in the office cute little nick-names like “Fat-Ass” and “Useless-Bitch.” He came in one day and insisted on licking some girl’s toes. (What the . . .? I KNOW!) They would laugh at him and act like they thought it was all acceptable behavior. Of course they would only complain when he was gone. I never had the misfortune to meet the man, and I never pretended it was funny when he said asinine things on the phone.
One day he called, cussed everyone out and told them to close the office (in the middle of the day) because he was mad. (You don’t gotta tell me twice) I left. The next day they said they then got yelled at for leaving. I told them he sounded bi-polar and if he ever treated me like he treats the other girls I’d charge him with sexual harassment.
Guess I should keep my mouth shut about all future plans.
Well, being fired solved one problem anyway. Since the ex-boyfriend wanted his ex-wife’s ex-car back the week before, with one less job, I no longer needed to worry about how I was going to get to work.
My friend pointed out that if the opposite had been the case, if I had suddenly gotten a job and a car out of the blue, I’d have a lot to praise God about. I could then, as the Baptists do, say, “It’s all in God’s perfect timing and isn’t it amazing?”
Ah what the heck anyway? “It’s all in God’s perfect timing. Isn’t it amazing?”
Want to know what else is amazing? I got a letter in the mail yesterday that said (lucky me) all my student information has been stolen from the UT system. Bye-bye Identity, see you later Social Security number, been nice knowing you Direct Deposit Bank Information. I’ll miss you--- All My Private Information! Whever gets my ID is going to be sorry they picked me. I don't have anything to take adventage of.
This morning I was informed that my five year old hotmail address had been deleted. Again, it was nice while it lasted, Address Book.
I am blessed to be a blessing.
Monday, April 07, 2003
A stranger started guessing my bra size in the store the other day. Sure, we had had some polite conversation for a few minutes, but when she started guessing, I felt a little violated! I considered informing her of the general social understanding that strangers (even friends) don't guess another's bra size! I decided to just back away, quietly.
The next day a guy siddled up to me to ask if I was married. Huh, well, pickup lines are getting more direct. (In the parking lot!) I said, yes. That did not have the detering effect I had hoped for. He followed me across the parking lot, (in the rain) to ask me if I had kids, if I needed ride, if I wanted him to buy me some flowers.
People are weird.
The next day a guy siddled up to me to ask if I was married. Huh, well, pickup lines are getting more direct. (In the parking lot!) I said, yes. That did not have the detering effect I had hoped for. He followed me across the parking lot, (in the rain) to ask me if I had kids, if I needed ride, if I wanted him to buy me some flowers.
People are weird.
Friday, April 04, 2003
"You mark my words, everybody is coming back to God. You will see, we shall all see."
"I used the word," said Tristram brutally, "as a gesture of defiance. It is just a dirty word, that's all."
"Exactly," said the unfrocked with quiet joy. "All dirty words are fundamentally religious. They are all concerned with fertility and the processes of fertility and the organs of fertility. God, we are taught, is love."
The Wanting Seed Anthony Burgess
"I used the word," said Tristram brutally, "as a gesture of defiance. It is just a dirty word, that's all."
"Exactly," said the unfrocked with quiet joy. "All dirty words are fundamentally religious. They are all concerned with fertility and the processes of fertility and the organs of fertility. God, we are taught, is love."
The Wanting Seed Anthony Burgess
I was asking alot of questions about the planetarium here on campus, my coworker said, "I don't know! Go ask the geology department!"
The geology department?!
In an effort to prove to myself that that was a random mistake, that most people really do know what department would be running a planetarium on university campus, I asked someone else, "What department would you contact if you wanted information on the planetarium?" He said, "I don't know, Botany?"
Apparently this was not a point I would be proving to myself today.
The geology department?!
In an effort to prove to myself that that was a random mistake, that most people really do know what department would be running a planetarium on university campus, I asked someone else, "What department would you contact if you wanted information on the planetarium?" He said, "I don't know, Botany?"
Apparently this was not a point I would be proving to myself today.
Monday, March 31, 2003
Friday, March 28, 2003
There was a bumpersticker on the register with a picture of a bear that read: “We have the right to arm bears.”
My aunt and I went to eat at the Spiral Café, the to be place for vegans in Ft. Worth. We both had spinich lazana. It was good, would have been better without the tofo, but everyone has their own opinions. . . after we ate, we learned from a brochure the benefits of a vegan lifesyle for all the carnavores, including cats and dogs (Vegan pets . . . what next?)
We had stimulating conversation about why we were there, (vegan-lent thing) and the explanation of what a vegan is. After I gave her the low-down on what a vegan is as opposed to a vegatarian, she said, “So you can eat anything that would go in the compost heap?” “Yes, and thank you for giving me that visulatization.”
We spoke of church politics, the chosen quote on that topic was, “I know we are all part of the body of Christ, but I don’t understand why there have to be so many ass holes!” She’s a funny one, dealing with the antics of the Methodists at the moment.
During our discussions we watched the vegan population come and go we noted a few details:
1. they were all young people, ages 16-25
2. all the girls were (surprisingly) on the plumper side of life
3. all the boys were (expectedly) exceedingly thin
4. they all wore black clothing with some flamboyantly colored assessory (a yellow bandana, a rainbow hand bag,
purple stockings or red shoes)
5. all the girls had red hair (except for the one with hot pink hair.)
Interesting, one could do a full study on the subculture of the vegans of Ft. Worth.
My aunt and I went to eat at the Spiral Café, the to be place for vegans in Ft. Worth. We both had spinich lazana. It was good, would have been better without the tofo, but everyone has their own opinions. . . after we ate, we learned from a brochure the benefits of a vegan lifesyle for all the carnavores, including cats and dogs (Vegan pets . . . what next?)
We had stimulating conversation about why we were there, (vegan-lent thing) and the explanation of what a vegan is. After I gave her the low-down on what a vegan is as opposed to a vegatarian, she said, “So you can eat anything that would go in the compost heap?” “Yes, and thank you for giving me that visulatization.”
We spoke of church politics, the chosen quote on that topic was, “I know we are all part of the body of Christ, but I don’t understand why there have to be so many ass holes!” She’s a funny one, dealing with the antics of the Methodists at the moment.
During our discussions we watched the vegan population come and go we noted a few details:
1. they were all young people, ages 16-25
2. all the girls were (surprisingly) on the plumper side of life
3. all the boys were (expectedly) exceedingly thin
4. they all wore black clothing with some flamboyantly colored assessory (a yellow bandana, a rainbow hand bag,
purple stockings or red shoes)
5. all the girls had red hair (except for the one with hot pink hair.)
Interesting, one could do a full study on the subculture of the vegans of Ft. Worth.
Monday, March 24, 2003
Sunday, March 23, 2003
Going to War and Going to Church
Generally I am one to keep my comments out of the ears of strangers. (Okay I know I’m posting them on the internet for the world to see, but I’ve not invited to world to see them!) I try to either keep my little thoughts to myself or only share them with the one who happens to be sitting next to me. I know, I tend toward the sarcastic and sometimes “brutal honesty.” And I wonder if I don’t avoid Bible studies lately because of my urges to critic the presenter after he has completed his lesson. “Here comes the Bible study snob . . .”
First Baptist Church, Dallas; singles group. The first thing that made me smile to myself was this quote in the middle of a prayer. “All's I think about is Habakkuk.” Really? Of all the things in the world to think about ALL he thinks about is Habakkuk? We’ll call that hyperbole and move on.
By way of announcements the leader starts talking about upcoming events concerning the Easter season, he says this: “I want to tell you about what we’ll be doing the week before Easter. In English we call that week ‘pre-Easter week.’ In Spanish we call it ‘Holy Week.’
I think this: “ummm . . . ‘Pre-Easter week?!” What the . . . in English we call it ‘Holy Week’ too! Crazy Baptists!”
With that I was just being picky, but soon after he offended me. He started talking about the war and the atrocities of Saddam Hussain, how Saddam has been known to torture and kill Christians, describing a scene of how people get stoned in this modern age. And he said, “We are fighting a just war. This is a Holy War.” A ‘just war’ seems a contradiction in terms, but Holy War!? I don’t think so! That’s going too far! I’m not an anti-war activist, I haven’t been interested to attend the peace rallies or marches, I have not criticized the actions of the President. I’m sure I don’t know enough of the situation to make accusations (as I think most people don’t so they should shut up.) I haven’t said much about it one way or the other, but calling this a Holy War was going too far for me.
He informed us at that point that instead of a lesson plan, he would lead us in a time of prayer concerning what is happening in the world. We prayed for peace in Jerusalem that ‘God’s chosen people would turn to him’. Sure, great, I’m all about peace in Jerusalem, but we are at war in BAGDAD! You want to pray for Bible cities, lets pray for peace in Babylon!
Then he told us to pray for “Our enemies; the terrorists, the Muslims and the Iraqis.” By this time I wanted to get up and pop him in the mouth for being so stupid. Instead I prayed for patience.
When he finished I went to talk to him. I said, “I don’t want you to think I’m being overly critical, but I just wanted to comment on a few things you said.”
He said, “Oh sure.” (little did he know)
I said, “Well, first the whole thing about the “Holy War,” not only is that historically and personally offensive, but it’s wrong for you to say. This is not a “holy war” by any sense of the words. No war led and perpetuated by men is ‘holy’ not only that, we are not fighting for the rights of Christians in the world. Otherwise we’d be all over the Sudan. When Jesus comes back riding a white horse, THAT will be a Holy War. Not until then.”
He said, “Oh, I see what you mean.”
I said, “And one other thing . . . You said, ‘pray for our enemies the terrorists, the Muslims and the Iraqis.’ The terrorists are our moral enemies, the Iraqis our political enemies, but what do the Muslims have to do with it?”
He said, “Well if you knew anything about what the Muslims believe you would . . .”
I interrupted, “I know enough about Islam to know they are not our enemies.”
He said, “Maybe you should read a book called . . .
(I interrupted again) “I know enough about Islam to know they are not our enemies any more than the Jews are.” (this time I said the magic “Jew” word, he had to listen) “Are the Jews our enemies too? We were just praying for peace in Jerusalem, which seemed odd since we are warring with Baghdad. If you think Muslims are our “spiritual enemies” (which seems just as much as a contradiction as ‘just war’) then where do you draw the line? The Catholics? Orthodox believers? Just Baptists or are Lutherans okay?”
He said, “Oh, you think I’m being too general.”
To which I replied, “As a church leader you are responsible to these people to choose your vocabulary very carefully. When you say Muslims are our enemies in the same sentence as terrorists and Iraqis are our enemies, you are making a much bigger statement. You are helping to form the opinion of these people who are unfamiliar with Muslims and Iraqis and indicating to them that Muslims and Iraqis are generally just as bad as terrorists.”
He said (by way of ending the conversation) “Well, thank you for your input.”
I told him he was welcome.
Generally I am one to keep my comments out of the ears of strangers. (Okay I know I’m posting them on the internet for the world to see, but I’ve not invited to world to see them!) I try to either keep my little thoughts to myself or only share them with the one who happens to be sitting next to me. I know, I tend toward the sarcastic and sometimes “brutal honesty.” And I wonder if I don’t avoid Bible studies lately because of my urges to critic the presenter after he has completed his lesson. “Here comes the Bible study snob . . .”
First Baptist Church, Dallas; singles group. The first thing that made me smile to myself was this quote in the middle of a prayer. “All's I think about is Habakkuk.” Really? Of all the things in the world to think about ALL he thinks about is Habakkuk? We’ll call that hyperbole and move on.
By way of announcements the leader starts talking about upcoming events concerning the Easter season, he says this: “I want to tell you about what we’ll be doing the week before Easter. In English we call that week ‘pre-Easter week.’ In Spanish we call it ‘Holy Week.’
I think this: “ummm . . . ‘Pre-Easter week?!” What the . . . in English we call it ‘Holy Week’ too! Crazy Baptists!”
With that I was just being picky, but soon after he offended me. He started talking about the war and the atrocities of Saddam Hussain, how Saddam has been known to torture and kill Christians, describing a scene of how people get stoned in this modern age. And he said, “We are fighting a just war. This is a Holy War.” A ‘just war’ seems a contradiction in terms, but Holy War!? I don’t think so! That’s going too far! I’m not an anti-war activist, I haven’t been interested to attend the peace rallies or marches, I have not criticized the actions of the President. I’m sure I don’t know enough of the situation to make accusations (as I think most people don’t so they should shut up.) I haven’t said much about it one way or the other, but calling this a Holy War was going too far for me.
He informed us at that point that instead of a lesson plan, he would lead us in a time of prayer concerning what is happening in the world. We prayed for peace in Jerusalem that ‘God’s chosen people would turn to him’. Sure, great, I’m all about peace in Jerusalem, but we are at war in BAGDAD! You want to pray for Bible cities, lets pray for peace in Babylon!
Then he told us to pray for “Our enemies; the terrorists, the Muslims and the Iraqis.” By this time I wanted to get up and pop him in the mouth for being so stupid. Instead I prayed for patience.
When he finished I went to talk to him. I said, “I don’t want you to think I’m being overly critical, but I just wanted to comment on a few things you said.”
He said, “Oh sure.” (little did he know)
I said, “Well, first the whole thing about the “Holy War,” not only is that historically and personally offensive, but it’s wrong for you to say. This is not a “holy war” by any sense of the words. No war led and perpetuated by men is ‘holy’ not only that, we are not fighting for the rights of Christians in the world. Otherwise we’d be all over the Sudan. When Jesus comes back riding a white horse, THAT will be a Holy War. Not until then.”
He said, “Oh, I see what you mean.”
I said, “And one other thing . . . You said, ‘pray for our enemies the terrorists, the Muslims and the Iraqis.’ The terrorists are our moral enemies, the Iraqis our political enemies, but what do the Muslims have to do with it?”
He said, “Well if you knew anything about what the Muslims believe you would . . .”
I interrupted, “I know enough about Islam to know they are not our enemies.”
He said, “Maybe you should read a book called . . .
(I interrupted again) “I know enough about Islam to know they are not our enemies any more than the Jews are.” (this time I said the magic “Jew” word, he had to listen) “Are the Jews our enemies too? We were just praying for peace in Jerusalem, which seemed odd since we are warring with Baghdad. If you think Muslims are our “spiritual enemies” (which seems just as much as a contradiction as ‘just war’) then where do you draw the line? The Catholics? Orthodox believers? Just Baptists or are Lutherans okay?”
He said, “Oh, you think I’m being too general.”
To which I replied, “As a church leader you are responsible to these people to choose your vocabulary very carefully. When you say Muslims are our enemies in the same sentence as terrorists and Iraqis are our enemies, you are making a much bigger statement. You are helping to form the opinion of these people who are unfamiliar with Muslims and Iraqis and indicating to them that Muslims and Iraqis are generally just as bad as terrorists.”
He said (by way of ending the conversation) “Well, thank you for your input.”
I told him he was welcome.
Spring Break was Good. (Aside from the whole war thing of course.) I have many adventures to record. Mostly for mine own amusement—but then aren’t they all?
First there was my purchase of my second minor appliance in a month. A few weeks ago I bought a blender. And I am well pleased with my purchase—I’ve blended a few vegan smoothies and have been satisfied with the results. This week, I bought a vacuum! That may not seem like much, but when you have hair balls challenging your authority in your home, it’s a big decision.
I had been considering the investment for some time. For me, even buying minor appliances is a sign of commitment. Owning a blender and a vacuum says, “I plan to be here long enough to make these purchases worth while.” And let’s face it, a vacuum is a big step in a staying-girl’s future. Even a cheap vacuum costs at least $50, and I’ve seen them all the way to $2,000. (Kirby-bastards)
So, before making any hasty decisions, I went to the vacuum guru for guidance and wisdom. My guru, also known as “Brandon the repair man” was found at Mid Cities Vacuum Sales and Repair. He endeavored to sell me a $500 vacuum. Obviously, that didn’t happen for him, but in the process he told me all about what to look for and what to avoid in vacuum sales. Here are some hints, in case you need to know for the future: (Which I will present in the style of Psalm 1 for no particular reason at all)
Blessed is the consumer who does not purchase in the brand name of Hoover
Or invest in the style of the bagless upright
Or undertake to suck dirt through a hepa filter.
But her delight is in the brushroll which is not plastic.
And from this brushroll she cleans the entwined hairs monthly.
Her carpet will be one in which hairballs will not multiply,
which may be walked upon by the barest of feet.
But not so the bagless upright, when the dirt gets sucked into the motor,
Or the hepa filter which were not designed for high air velocities or
voluminous amounts of dirt.
Forasmuch as the plastic brushroller shall overheat and melt, or shall break under the
strain of overmuch cleaning.
For the LORD watches over the careful consumer who researches her purchases.
But the careless shall perish and their hairballs with them.
So I went to Target and bought a wooden-rollerbrush-laden-bag-using-non-hepa-filter-mint-green Dirt Devil. To which my room mate commented, “I can’t believe you brought a demon into our house.” (I think she's been watching too much Buffy) To which I was oh-so-tempted to reply “Yes, indeed I have brought one in that sucks and blows.” However, as my demon only sucks, and does not blow at all (that I know of ) I did not voice my comment.
First there was my purchase of my second minor appliance in a month. A few weeks ago I bought a blender. And I am well pleased with my purchase—I’ve blended a few vegan smoothies and have been satisfied with the results. This week, I bought a vacuum! That may not seem like much, but when you have hair balls challenging your authority in your home, it’s a big decision.
I had been considering the investment for some time. For me, even buying minor appliances is a sign of commitment. Owning a blender and a vacuum says, “I plan to be here long enough to make these purchases worth while.” And let’s face it, a vacuum is a big step in a staying-girl’s future. Even a cheap vacuum costs at least $50, and I’ve seen them all the way to $2,000. (Kirby-bastards)
So, before making any hasty decisions, I went to the vacuum guru for guidance and wisdom. My guru, also known as “Brandon the repair man” was found at Mid Cities Vacuum Sales and Repair. He endeavored to sell me a $500 vacuum. Obviously, that didn’t happen for him, but in the process he told me all about what to look for and what to avoid in vacuum sales. Here are some hints, in case you need to know for the future: (Which I will present in the style of Psalm 1 for no particular reason at all)
Blessed is the consumer who does not purchase in the brand name of Hoover
Or invest in the style of the bagless upright
Or undertake to suck dirt through a hepa filter.
But her delight is in the brushroll which is not plastic.
And from this brushroll she cleans the entwined hairs monthly.
Her carpet will be one in which hairballs will not multiply,
which may be walked upon by the barest of feet.
But not so the bagless upright, when the dirt gets sucked into the motor,
Or the hepa filter which were not designed for high air velocities or
voluminous amounts of dirt.
Forasmuch as the plastic brushroller shall overheat and melt, or shall break under the
strain of overmuch cleaning.
For the LORD watches over the careful consumer who researches her purchases.
But the careless shall perish and their hairballs with them.
So I went to Target and bought a wooden-rollerbrush-laden-bag-using-non-hepa-filter-mint-green Dirt Devil. To which my room mate commented, “I can’t believe you brought a demon into our house.” (I think she's been watching too much Buffy) To which I was oh-so-tempted to reply “Yes, indeed I have brought one in that sucks and blows.” However, as my demon only sucks, and does not blow at all (that I know of ) I did not voice my comment.
Saturday, March 15, 2003
I do believe it is an auspicious day in Shannonland. After years of whining and complaining I found (out of the blue) my amethyst turtle from Islamabad! I have a turtle collection and before I left Islamabad my jewler-friend gave me a little turtle carved from an amethyst. I thought I had it when I got home, but could never find it in my packing and unpacking. Today it is found!
She said, "Hell . . . if I'ma been 'pure as the driven snow' I need to get some credit for it!'
Then by way of explanation, "It had something to do with fornication, Bill Gates, a TV audience and my grandmother."
Resulting in one confused look and I replied, "Alls I'm saying is there was somekind of coin operated machine, with some kind of small animal playing some kind of sport."
Then by way of explanation, "It had something to do with fornication, Bill Gates, a TV audience and my grandmother."
Resulting in one confused look and I replied, "Alls I'm saying is there was somekind of coin operated machine, with some kind of small animal playing some kind of sport."
Friday, March 14, 2003
speaking of that lunch salad . . . I realize people cannot read my mind, they do not know why I'm asking a barage of questions concerning a salad, but they sure must be thinking some odd things when they answer me.
I'm vegan for the season and the following conversation ensues:
me: I'd like a dinner salad
her: ok
me: does it have meat on it?
her: no
me: eggs?
her: no
me: cheese?
her: no . . . but it has cucumbers.
me: ok . . . (thinking-- what does a cucumber have to do with it?) I'll take it.
her: ok.
I'm vegan for the season and the following conversation ensues:
me: I'd like a dinner salad
her: ok
me: does it have meat on it?
her: no
me: eggs?
her: no
me: cheese?
her: no . . . but it has cucumbers.
me: ok . . . (thinking-- what does a cucumber have to do with it?) I'll take it.
her: ok.
This morning I left the house late, there was an accident on the way to work, I had to go all the way around the long way. Then I couldn't find a parking place. My boss told me I was supposed to work on Wednesday, but I forgot. Then, I told my co-worker to "go away, I don't want to talk to you any more." I went to lunch, but could only have salad, I spilled my water all over the counter, some one stole my funny papers and now my wisdom tooth is coming in again.
I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
(But the optimist says, "maybe not!")
I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
(But the optimist says, "maybe not!")
Main Entry: ob·nu·bi·late
Pronunciation: äb-'nü-ba-"lAt
Function: transitive verb
Inflected Form(s): -lat·ed; -lat·ing
Etymology: Latin obnubilatus, past participle of obnubilare, from ob- in the way + nubilare to be cloudy, from nubilus cloudy, from nubes cloud -- more at OB-, NUANCE
Date: 1583
BECLOUD, OBSCURE
- ob·nu·bi·la·tion /-"nü-b&-'lA-sh&n, -"nyü-/ noun
Pronunciation: äb-'nü-ba-"lAt
Function: transitive verb
Inflected Form(s): -lat·ed; -lat·ing
Etymology: Latin obnubilatus, past participle of obnubilare, from ob- in the way + nubilare to be cloudy, from nubilus cloudy, from nubes cloud -- more at OB-, NUANCE
Date: 1583
BECLOUD, OBSCURE
- ob·nu·bi·la·tion /-"nü-b&-'lA-sh&n, -"nyü-/ noun
Thursday, March 13, 2003
Country Music makes me smile:
The lyrics to a song I heard today (as much as I can remember through the giggles)
"I cain't buy beer at the grocery store
I'm leavin' Amarillo and I a'ain't a'comin' back no more!
Screw you! You ain't worth passing through!
I'm leavin' Amarillo and I a'ain't a'comin' back no more!"
The lyrics to a song I heard today (as much as I can remember through the giggles)
"I cain't buy beer at the grocery store
I'm leavin' Amarillo and I a'ain't a'comin' back no more!
Screw you! You ain't worth passing through!
I'm leavin' Amarillo and I a'ain't a'comin' back no more!"
I went to the UTA symphony orchestra last night. It was pretty good (as much as I can tell good from bad.) I was sitting between two men. One was my friend; the other was an older Chinese gentleman. One of them, and I don't know which, frequently emitted the faintest fragrance of flatulence. I'm not friendly enough with my friend to ask him if it was him, but it was distracting. What to do?
Monday, March 10, 2003
Friday, March 07, 2003
I went to Goodwill the other day in high hopes of finding something new-to-me and fabulous. But, there was nothing for me, sadly there was also nothing for me at Salvation Army.
I was telling my sad story before class started and the woman behind me said, "You were looking for clothes at a second hand store?"
Me: "Uh . . . yeah."
Her: "I bought some clothes from a second hand store 20 years ago and got a terrible lingering skin disease. I'll never buy clothes second hand again."
Me: "Oh." (thinking did you WASH them first?-- and besides that, Eeewww!)
I was telling my sad story before class started and the woman behind me said, "You were looking for clothes at a second hand store?"
Me: "Uh . . . yeah."
Her: "I bought some clothes from a second hand store 20 years ago and got a terrible lingering skin disease. I'll never buy clothes second hand again."
Me: "Oh." (thinking did you WASH them first?-- and besides that, Eeewww!)
Yesterday I saw a camouflage painted pickup truck (which was not military, and which I thought was unfortunate at first glace.) When I got behind the pickup truck I noticed the lettering on the tailgate: “KILL ‘EM ALL. LET GOD SORT ‘EM OUT.” Even more unfortunate. Where is my camera when I NEED it?!
Monday, March 03, 2003
So, I was in the shower, shaving my leg when (uh-oh) 19 tiles including the built in soap dish fell of the wall, into the tub. Only bearly missing my toes.
As the hot water was beginning to fade, I took that as a sign that I should exit my shower. Unfortunatly I had only shaved one leg.
Now, I have one hairy-scary leg and one smooth. I called maintance, but apearently they did not believe me that, seriously, a bunch of tiles have fallen out in my shower. I hope they show up early to fix it, because all the dry wall is now wet wall and is totally rotted out. It might take a while to fix.
As the hot water was beginning to fade, I took that as a sign that I should exit my shower. Unfortunatly I had only shaved one leg.
Now, I have one hairy-scary leg and one smooth. I called maintance, but apearently they did not believe me that, seriously, a bunch of tiles have fallen out in my shower. I hope they show up early to fix it, because all the dry wall is now wet wall and is totally rotted out. It might take a while to fix.
Eccentricity-Eccentricity
I was told I was eccentric. I haven't thought of myself in that adjective before. I think of old ladies with big hats and brightly colored shoes as eccentric. You know, the ones who wear a ring (or two or three) on every finger, have crazy white hair and give you tidbits of life wisdom when you least expect it.
"If it has tires or testicles, you're going to have trouble with it."
"Oh, okay."
I've thought of aspiring to eccentricity in my old age . . .
I suppose eccentricity must be measured on a scale. Maybe the one who called me eccentric just has a much smaller scale than to I.
Main Entry: 1ec·cen·tric
Pronunciation: ik-'sen-trik, ek-
Function: adjective
Etymology: Middle English, from Medieval Latin eccentricus, from Greek ekkentros, from ex out of + kentron center
Date: circa 1630
1 a : deviating from an established or usual pattern or style b : deviating from conventional or accepted usage or conduct especially in odd or whimsical ways
I was told I was eccentric. I haven't thought of myself in that adjective before. I think of old ladies with big hats and brightly colored shoes as eccentric. You know, the ones who wear a ring (or two or three) on every finger, have crazy white hair and give you tidbits of life wisdom when you least expect it.
"If it has tires or testicles, you're going to have trouble with it."
"Oh, okay."
I've thought of aspiring to eccentricity in my old age . . .
I suppose eccentricity must be measured on a scale. Maybe the one who called me eccentric just has a much smaller scale than to I.
Main Entry: 1ec·cen·tric
Pronunciation: ik-'sen-trik, ek-
Function: adjective
Etymology: Middle English, from Medieval Latin eccentricus, from Greek ekkentros, from ex out of + kentron center
Date: circa 1630
1 a : deviating from an established or usual pattern or style b : deviating from conventional or accepted usage or conduct especially in odd or whimsical ways
Friday, February 28, 2003
A translation of the popular French children's song 'Alouttta'
Lark, kind lark, Lark, I will pluck you.
I will pluck your head (repeat) And your head (repeat) Lark (repeat) Ah!
(Refrain)
I will pluck your beak (repeat) And your beak (repeat) And your head (repeat)...
I will pluck your eyes (repeat)
I will pluck your neck (repeat)
I will pluck your wings (repeat)
I will pluck your feet (repeat)
I will pluck your tail (repeat)
French brutes!
Lark, kind lark, Lark, I will pluck you.
I will pluck your head (repeat) And your head (repeat) Lark (repeat) Ah!
(Refrain)
I will pluck your beak (repeat) And your beak (repeat) And your head (repeat)...
I will pluck your eyes (repeat)
I will pluck your neck (repeat)
I will pluck your wings (repeat)
I will pluck your feet (repeat)
I will pluck your tail (repeat)
French brutes!
Thursday, February 27, 2003
shannon, your best quality shines through in how Intelligent you are!
The fact that you're a smart person who is more able to understand complex concepts than many other people are really draws people to you! But that's not the only thing. Your answers on the test indicate you're a funny person who is likely known for your great sense of humor. You are an inventive and creative person who usually has an abundance of imagination and ideas, too.
In all, there are 15 qualities that help define you when you're at your best. Those are the traits potential employers, friends, and partners look for in you. What makes you unique is your particular distribution of those 15 qualities.
We've found that your particular combination of qualities is rare — only 1 in 10,000 people share the same general mix of traits. Those are great odds if you're trying to show a potential employer, colleague, friend, or date why you're exactly the right person for them.
I'm smart! I'm smart dang it! :0)
The fact that you're a smart person who is more able to understand complex concepts than many other people are really draws people to you! But that's not the only thing. Your answers on the test indicate you're a funny person who is likely known for your great sense of humor. You are an inventive and creative person who usually has an abundance of imagination and ideas, too.
In all, there are 15 qualities that help define you when you're at your best. Those are the traits potential employers, friends, and partners look for in you. What makes you unique is your particular distribution of those 15 qualities.
We've found that your particular combination of qualities is rare — only 1 in 10,000 people share the same general mix of traits. Those are great odds if you're trying to show a potential employer, colleague, friend, or date why you're exactly the right person for them.
I'm smart! I'm smart dang it! :0)
I found a book on Kwanzaa, it is, of course out of season, however, it was also on clearance. I figure learning about a new holiday for $2.00 is an extreamly good deal. I will certainly add it to my repetoir of holidays to be celebrated. (Yes, I realize it is an African American holiday, but I figure half is good enough-- I am, after all American.)
Here are a few quotes that impressed me deeply from my new book, A Kwanzaa Keepsake. Celebrating the Holiday with New Traditions and Feasts
It wouldn't be funny if I were making it up myself. . .
"Those who think that holidays are days steeped in centuries-old tradition are always surprised to hear that the African-American feast of Kwanzaa was established in 1966. The name Kwanzaa comes from the Swahili word kwanza, meaning first. The second "a" distinguishes the African-American from the African kwanza "
"An apocryphal tale is told that during one of the early Kwanzaa celebrations, a children's pagent was held, with each child holding up a card with the letters of the word kwanza, which was spelled at that time with one "a." One child was left, letterless and weeping, at the end of the row. A second "a" was quickly produced, the day was saved, and the holidaywas forever after known as Kwanzaa."
This, my friends, is "the miracle of the second a of kwanzaa." Let us celebrate together (when the time is right, I'll let you know) Kwanzaa with two a's.
Here are a few quotes that impressed me deeply from my new book, A Kwanzaa Keepsake. Celebrating the Holiday with New Traditions and Feasts
It wouldn't be funny if I were making it up myself. . .
"Those who think that holidays are days steeped in centuries-old tradition are always surprised to hear that the African-American feast of Kwanzaa was established in 1966. The name Kwanzaa comes from the Swahili word kwanza, meaning first. The second "a" distinguishes the African-American from the African kwanza "
"An apocryphal tale is told that during one of the early Kwanzaa celebrations, a children's pagent was held, with each child holding up a card with the letters of the word kwanza, which was spelled at that time with one "a." One child was left, letterless and weeping, at the end of the row. A second "a" was quickly produced, the day was saved, and the holidaywas forever after known as Kwanzaa."
This, my friends, is "the miracle of the second a of kwanzaa." Let us celebrate together (when the time is right, I'll let you know) Kwanzaa with two a's.
Wednesday, February 26, 2003
A man knocked on a door.
"Who's there?" Asked God.
"Me." Replied the man.
"Go away then." Said God.
The man left and wandered in the arid desert until he realized his error. He returned to the door and knocked again.
"Who's there?" Asked God.
"You." Replied the man.
"Then come in," said God, "there's no room here for two."
Sufi teaching story.
"Who's there?" Asked God.
"Me." Replied the man.
"Go away then." Said God.
The man left and wandered in the arid desert until he realized his error. He returned to the door and knocked again.
"Who's there?" Asked God.
"You." Replied the man.
"Then come in," said God, "there's no room here for two."
Sufi teaching story.
Last night I dreamed in colors and textures of tall grasses and wild flowers, of a little red house sitting at the end of a long and pocked dirt driveway, of pine trees reaching their fingers to the sky. I dreamed the taller of the two trees was being pushed skyward by a lost thumb beneath its strong roots.
There was a black water still pond and a weeping willow, bent in mourning to kiss the cold water.
There was a little evergreen in the yard. The children could reach the top, and they would adorn it with snow balls and icicles for Christmas with its freezing snow family.
I dreamed of fat, black tadpoles with legs swimming round and round in a quickly receding summer storm water hole. I dreamed they need rescuing, but it was time for lunch. Fat black tadpoles dry up like raisins with legs in the sun.
There was a black water still pond and a weeping willow, bent in mourning to kiss the cold water.
There was a little evergreen in the yard. The children could reach the top, and they would adorn it with snow balls and icicles for Christmas with its freezing snow family.
I dreamed of fat, black tadpoles with legs swimming round and round in a quickly receding summer storm water hole. I dreamed they need rescuing, but it was time for lunch. Fat black tadpoles dry up like raisins with legs in the sun.
Monday, February 24, 2003
Friday, February 21, 2003
Wednesday, February 19, 2003
Once the stars were against me, but I think they are coming back now. This has been a good week. First I had a pseudo-Valentine, then I got a Christmas card, with money in it! (Actually I've gotten 5 letters this week, including the Christmas cards) I got email from three long-losts, and today when I opened the drier, a five dollar bill fell out! Whoo-Hoo! I picked it up and said, "I don't know where you came from, but I'm keeping you!" Of course there is still this matter of the wisdom tooth, but I suppose I can't have it all.
Saturday, February 15, 2003
Friday, February 14, 2003
Thursday, February 13, 2003
One year for Valentine’s Day, I invited my students to my home for a ‘tea party.’ All my students were Afghan refugee ladies.
They came to my house, they marveled at my deviled eggs, they made Valentines for the first time, and I led them in a rousing game of ‘pin the heart on the man.’ They liked the game a lot, they were very competitive. They played with gusto.
Later when I told the missionary ladies about the party, they were scandalized by my choice of games.
They came to my house, they marveled at my deviled eggs, they made Valentines for the first time, and I led them in a rousing game of ‘pin the heart on the man.’ They liked the game a lot, they were very competitive. They played with gusto.
Later when I told the missionary ladies about the party, they were scandalized by my choice of games.
Wednesday, February 12, 2003
I was hoping for a confirmation this morning, but it didn't come. Dang, if it had been the case, it would have certainly amused me. But then again, even the prospect amused me, I'll tell:
Last night I got an email from someone named Daniel B. I know one Daniel who is Dan, I don't think it's him. Daniel B. wondered if I would be attending the showing of '8Mile' at the university, as we had a good time seeing 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding.' I feel like Big Brother is Watching, I don't know Daniel, but he knows I went to see 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding.'
It is the case that I did meet two boys at 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding." You may recall, one was Bob, my ex-room mate's, sister's, fiance and Bob's friend. (Drat, I can't remember his name!) I think perhaps Daniel is Bob's friend, making him my ex-room mate's, sister's, fiance's friend.
If he is who I think he is, I'm willing to get to know him just to relish the title of our relationship.
Last night I got an email from someone named Daniel B. I know one Daniel who is Dan, I don't think it's him. Daniel B. wondered if I would be attending the showing of '8Mile' at the university, as we had a good time seeing 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding.' I feel like Big Brother is Watching, I don't know Daniel, but he knows I went to see 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding.'
It is the case that I did meet two boys at 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding." You may recall, one was Bob, my ex-room mate's, sister's, fiance and Bob's friend. (Drat, I can't remember his name!) I think perhaps Daniel is Bob's friend, making him my ex-room mate's, sister's, fiance's friend.
If he is who I think he is, I'm willing to get to know him just to relish the title of our relationship.
Tuesday, February 11, 2003
These urges!
Today I want to, greatly desire to, am nearing a need to wear flip-flops. Oh yeah . . . I don't know what the ground-hog said, but summer in the south must be on it's way! For the past three weeks every time I go to Wal-mart (and you might be surprised at how often that is) I gravitate toward the flip-flops.(I know, why do they even have flip flops out already right?) Then I think, No, it's not warm enough yet, (besides I made a new month resolution to not buy shoes in Feb.)
And I look at my oh-so-white feet and realize the destinction of my summer-in-the-sun-nothing-but-flip-flops-tan line is all but gone.
sigh
what did the hog say?
Today I want to, greatly desire to, am nearing a need to wear flip-flops. Oh yeah . . . I don't know what the ground-hog said, but summer in the south must be on it's way! For the past three weeks every time I go to Wal-mart (and you might be surprised at how often that is) I gravitate toward the flip-flops.(I know, why do they even have flip flops out already right?) Then I think, No, it's not warm enough yet, (besides I made a new month resolution to not buy shoes in Feb.)
And I look at my oh-so-white feet and realize the destinction of my summer-in-the-sun-nothing-but-flip-flops-tan line is all but gone.
sigh
what did the hog say?
Monday, February 10, 2003
I don’t know why.
Yesterday I got an urge to see what would happen if I stared at the little librarian girl for a long, long time. I was staring at her while I wondered, and in those few minutes I could tell from her body language that she had noticed me and that she was already becoming nervous.
What is it that causes alarm and tenseness disproportionate to the apparent threat, as someone, maybe across the room, someone clearly out of reach, simply looks at us?
Yesterday I got an urge to see what would happen if I stared at the little librarian girl for a long, long time. I was staring at her while I wondered, and in those few minutes I could tell from her body language that she had noticed me and that she was already becoming nervous.
What is it that causes alarm and tenseness disproportionate to the apparent threat, as someone, maybe across the room, someone clearly out of reach, simply looks at us?
Sunday, February 09, 2003
I went to a Bible study sponsered by the Chinese church. We looked at Luke 5:1-11. Jesus spoke to the crowds from Simon's fishing boat on Gennesaret Lake. Jesus amazed the fishermen by providing a mighty catch of fish. When Simon realized what Jesus had done, he said: "Go away from me, Lord: I am a sinful man!"
The resulting quote of the day: "Maybe if Peter had been an accountant, he would not have believed Jesus so much."
I like Bible study with Chinese people.
The resulting quote of the day: "Maybe if Peter had been an accountant, he would not have believed Jesus so much."
I like Bible study with Chinese people.
Friday, February 07, 2003
I was walking to my door the other day when a little girl, about 7 years old, (long black hair, no front teeth) said, “Hi.” She was holding a picture she had made in her hand.
I said, “Hi.” She showed me the picture and said, “Do you think this is pretty?”
Being a patron of the arts and little girls, I looked at the legal size sheet of typing paper she was displaying. It had cutouts from magazines pasted to it (pictures of a necklace, a ring, Tigger and a bottle of shampoo) and I said, “Yes, that’s very nice.”
She said, ever so cleverly, “Do you want to buy it? I’ll sell it to you for 50 cents. I need two quarters for the ice-cream truck!”
Without a doubt, she looked like a girl in need, dire need of something from the ice-cream truck, (whose soul purpose is the entice small children and weak adults with its flashing lights, and it’s music box tones to eat ice cream, even on cold days!) I quickly remembered my need as a child with no teeth for “something from the ice-cream truck.”
I said, “Okay.”
In I went, got four dimes and two nickels (needed to keep the quarters for laundry). I told my roommate about the dilemma of the child outside who needed ice cream. Summer agreed to buy a large sticker from the first girl’s friend for a mere 50 cents.
When we came out with the money. My little artist (con artist) looked disappointed that it wasn’t two quarters. So I counted it out for her, to prove that it was just as good as two quarters. Summer made her exchange, and a few minutes later I made a second purchase from the last little girl who was “in the sale too, but just not outside” at the time of the original offer. This time the three had a little two year old with them, so I gave the little one my last two dimes and nickel and told them to share whatever they got with her.
I think our combined $1.75 was well spent.
I said, “Hi.” She showed me the picture and said, “Do you think this is pretty?”
Being a patron of the arts and little girls, I looked at the legal size sheet of typing paper she was displaying. It had cutouts from magazines pasted to it (pictures of a necklace, a ring, Tigger and a bottle of shampoo) and I said, “Yes, that’s very nice.”
She said, ever so cleverly, “Do you want to buy it? I’ll sell it to you for 50 cents. I need two quarters for the ice-cream truck!”
Without a doubt, she looked like a girl in need, dire need of something from the ice-cream truck, (whose soul purpose is the entice small children and weak adults with its flashing lights, and it’s music box tones to eat ice cream, even on cold days!) I quickly remembered my need as a child with no teeth for “something from the ice-cream truck.”
I said, “Okay.”
In I went, got four dimes and two nickels (needed to keep the quarters for laundry). I told my roommate about the dilemma of the child outside who needed ice cream. Summer agreed to buy a large sticker from the first girl’s friend for a mere 50 cents.
When we came out with the money. My little artist (con artist) looked disappointed that it wasn’t two quarters. So I counted it out for her, to prove that it was just as good as two quarters. Summer made her exchange, and a few minutes later I made a second purchase from the last little girl who was “in the sale too, but just not outside” at the time of the original offer. This time the three had a little two year old with them, so I gave the little one my last two dimes and nickel and told them to share whatever they got with her.
I think our combined $1.75 was well spent.
Wednesday, February 05, 2003
Today I played the “I’m just a girl . . . with a car” game. It works every time. I have needed to put air in The Buick tires for some time. But putting air in the tires is one of those things. One of those things I just can always find a reason to put off, like vacuuming. It’s not hard, nor is it time consuming, but I just don’t want to do it.
I decided today I had put if off long enough, so when I got gas, I bought a tire gauge. I checked the pressure, and while the little stick should have poked out to 32, it only poked out to 20 on the lowest tire and 25 on the highest.
So I went back into the gas station to get change for the air machine. Thus begins the game:
Me: I need quarters please.
Gas station guy: Here you go.
Me: So, when you put air in your tires, if the tire says 35 P-S-I this little stick should poke out to 35 when you’re done right?
GSG: Yeah, but 35 sounds like a lot.
Me: Oh? That’s what it says on the tire.
GSG: I always put in 32.
Me: Okay, I’ll put in 32.
GSG: If you put in the code 2-6 before you put your quarters in the machine will turn on.
Me: It won’t turn on if I don’t put in 2-6?
GSG: Not without your quarters.
Me: So I put in 2-6 and then my quarters?
GSG: Not if you want to keep your quarters.
Me: Oh! Okay! Thanks!
----
Outside, I punch in the code, the machine comes on and I start filling up the first tire.
GSG: How’s it going?
Me: Oh, okay I guess.
GSG: Here, let me do it for you.
Me: Okay.
Three tires later, I say “Thanks!”
He goes back into the gas station mini-mart. Good has been done.
I decided today I had put if off long enough, so when I got gas, I bought a tire gauge. I checked the pressure, and while the little stick should have poked out to 32, it only poked out to 20 on the lowest tire and 25 on the highest.
So I went back into the gas station to get change for the air machine. Thus begins the game:
Me: I need quarters please.
Gas station guy: Here you go.
Me: So, when you put air in your tires, if the tire says 35 P-S-I this little stick should poke out to 35 when you’re done right?
GSG: Yeah, but 35 sounds like a lot.
Me: Oh? That’s what it says on the tire.
GSG: I always put in 32.
Me: Okay, I’ll put in 32.
GSG: If you put in the code 2-6 before you put your quarters in the machine will turn on.
Me: It won’t turn on if I don’t put in 2-6?
GSG: Not without your quarters.
Me: So I put in 2-6 and then my quarters?
GSG: Not if you want to keep your quarters.
Me: Oh! Okay! Thanks!
----
Outside, I punch in the code, the machine comes on and I start filling up the first tire.
GSG: How’s it going?
Me: Oh, okay I guess.
GSG: Here, let me do it for you.
Me: Okay.
Three tires later, I say “Thanks!”
He goes back into the gas station mini-mart. Good has been done.
I’m inspired after watching Amelie for the first time. (I’ve decided I should watch it every week until the end of the semester, you know to learn French, and be inspired of course.) I was inspired first to write a few lists about myself. I will share one of my lists at this time:
Things I was afraid of as a child. (not exhaustive and in no particular order)
1. Public toilets with black seats.
2. Flying insects.
3. Being thrown away.
4. The “Melting Man” who sometimes visited under my grandparent’s stair case.
5. The bathtub ghost.
6. Chickens.
An explanation of these fears:
Public toilets with black seats made exceptionally loud flushing noises. These noises had something to do with why I made my mother, with the bad back, hold me over the black toilet seat to pee so I didn’t have to touch it. Maybe I thought it would suck me down? I don’t know.
Flying insects; when I was a baby I ate a live bee. Just picked it up and popped it in my mouth. It stung me of course. Ever after I was afraid of flying insects. I didn’t know why until my mother told me this bee-eating story.
Being thrown away, I’m sure my older brothers had something to do with this one. I have a vivid memory of a windy day, walking across a parking lot and the wind was blowing me away from my mother and toward a garbage can. I was sure the wind was trying to throw me away.
The Melting Man. Although Dracula stole my Mickey Mouse ring, I was not afraid of him. I was afraid of the Melting Man whom I suspected vacationed under my grandparent’s stairs. There was one step missing at their house. There was a board placed where the step should have been, but there was no backing on it, so a little girl could see all the blackness behind the step. Although I knew full well that there was a games closet under the stair case, I was still sure some times the Melting Man was there too. I was never afraid to open the closet, but I was some times afraid to step on that board. (because he might reach his melty hand out and try to grab me) Some mornings after I suspected the Melting Man had waited all night for me to step on that step, I would check the closet (in the full light of day, nautrally) to see if he had accidentally melted on any of the games. This fear too, I believe, stemmed from my brother’s tall tales.
I’m sure the bathtub ghost was my own doing. I knew (don’t know how I knew, but I did) that if I was not dried, dressed and out of the bathroom by the time all the water had run out of the tub, the bathtub ghost would come out of the drain and try to suck me down with him! But, if an adult was in the room with me, he couldn’t come up, and if one walked in, he had to let me go. Apparently I had some trouble with bathroom fixtures as a child.
Finally, chickens. I don’t believe I need a reason for this. Chickens are scary! They are dirty and ugly and gross, and they run up and peck you on the feet for no reason at all! (Even when you aren’t stealing their eggs.) Never trust a chicken.
Things I was afraid of as a child. (not exhaustive and in no particular order)
1. Public toilets with black seats.
2. Flying insects.
3. Being thrown away.
4. The “Melting Man” who sometimes visited under my grandparent’s stair case.
5. The bathtub ghost.
6. Chickens.
An explanation of these fears:
Public toilets with black seats made exceptionally loud flushing noises. These noises had something to do with why I made my mother, with the bad back, hold me over the black toilet seat to pee so I didn’t have to touch it. Maybe I thought it would suck me down? I don’t know.
Flying insects; when I was a baby I ate a live bee. Just picked it up and popped it in my mouth. It stung me of course. Ever after I was afraid of flying insects. I didn’t know why until my mother told me this bee-eating story.
Being thrown away, I’m sure my older brothers had something to do with this one. I have a vivid memory of a windy day, walking across a parking lot and the wind was blowing me away from my mother and toward a garbage can. I was sure the wind was trying to throw me away.
The Melting Man. Although Dracula stole my Mickey Mouse ring, I was not afraid of him. I was afraid of the Melting Man whom I suspected vacationed under my grandparent’s stairs. There was one step missing at their house. There was a board placed where the step should have been, but there was no backing on it, so a little girl could see all the blackness behind the step. Although I knew full well that there was a games closet under the stair case, I was still sure some times the Melting Man was there too. I was never afraid to open the closet, but I was some times afraid to step on that board. (because he might reach his melty hand out and try to grab me) Some mornings after I suspected the Melting Man had waited all night for me to step on that step, I would check the closet (in the full light of day, nautrally) to see if he had accidentally melted on any of the games. This fear too, I believe, stemmed from my brother’s tall tales.
I’m sure the bathtub ghost was my own doing. I knew (don’t know how I knew, but I did) that if I was not dried, dressed and out of the bathroom by the time all the water had run out of the tub, the bathtub ghost would come out of the drain and try to suck me down with him! But, if an adult was in the room with me, he couldn’t come up, and if one walked in, he had to let me go. Apparently I had some trouble with bathroom fixtures as a child.
Finally, chickens. I don’t believe I need a reason for this. Chickens are scary! They are dirty and ugly and gross, and they run up and peck you on the feet for no reason at all! (Even when you aren’t stealing their eggs.) Never trust a chicken.
Friday, January 31, 2003
Monday, January 27, 2003
When I was growing up in PA, we would always wait for the robins to come back. A red-breasted robin was among the first signs of spring, along with the crocuses and irises poking up through the snow. (Snow still being present was of course no indication that winter wasn’t going anywhere for a while.)
These signs of spring were a sure sign that Punxsutawney Phil had been right all along, spring would come six weeks early.
Usually it was just one lone robin- there he was hopping gingerly along the frozen ground. His red breast showing brightly against the dead earth, cocking his head, looking at you with his little beady eye as if to say, “If I leave right now, it will be winter forever! I am the bringer of spring! I and I ALONE!” (He gave no account to the irises and the crocuses.)
That lone robin was the harbinger of hope-the feathered optimism for better days, a mighty symbol of sunshine, shorts, pool parties and popsicles. That robin, after five long months of snow on the ground, that robin made everyone smile, everyone. (Even if he was a little cocky about his role in the scheme of things.)
Today I saw a flock of robins. Wow! I didn’t know they came in flocks! (It was only ever that first one who got noticed, after him they were old news.) I was amazed, I stood and watched them for a while. They were everywhere, swooping and resettling. I had to move for fear of droppings.
Being pooped on by the harbinger of hope would be a bad thing.
These signs of spring were a sure sign that Punxsutawney Phil had been right all along, spring would come six weeks early.
Usually it was just one lone robin- there he was hopping gingerly along the frozen ground. His red breast showing brightly against the dead earth, cocking his head, looking at you with his little beady eye as if to say, “If I leave right now, it will be winter forever! I am the bringer of spring! I and I ALONE!” (He gave no account to the irises and the crocuses.)
That lone robin was the harbinger of hope-the feathered optimism for better days, a mighty symbol of sunshine, shorts, pool parties and popsicles. That robin, after five long months of snow on the ground, that robin made everyone smile, everyone. (Even if he was a little cocky about his role in the scheme of things.)
Today I saw a flock of robins. Wow! I didn’t know they came in flocks! (It was only ever that first one who got noticed, after him they were old news.) I was amazed, I stood and watched them for a while. They were everywhere, swooping and resettling. I had to move for fear of droppings.
Being pooped on by the harbinger of hope would be a bad thing.
Today I have black hair, a black dress, black stockings black boots and red lipstick. My co-worker said I would look goth if I had on "more threatening accessories." I guess my red beaded choker with a sweet little silver heart doesn't cut it.
I dyed my hair black last night, just because I never had black hair before. But I sure did feel like a fountain pen trying to wash the dye out. I had a tub full of black ink-water, and it was all over the the tiles, the tub the shampoo bottles the shower curtain (the wall, the counters- I don't know how I managed that from inside the shower.)
It's alright, but I think next time I'll go back to burgundy.
I dyed my hair black last night, just because I never had black hair before. But I sure did feel like a fountain pen trying to wash the dye out. I had a tub full of black ink-water, and it was all over the the tiles, the tub the shampoo bottles the shower curtain (the wall, the counters- I don't know how I managed that from inside the shower.)
It's alright, but I think next time I'll go back to burgundy.
“O Ye Jigs & Juleps!” Virginia Cary Hudson
“The Baptist church is next door to our church. They sing as loud as they can all the time we are trying to pray. I bet the Lord can’t hear one word we say. The Baptists sing about plunging sinners in a bloody fountain drawn from Emmanuel’s veins. We sing about Crown Him Lord of All. I think it is much more ladylike to crown the King than to be plunging around in a bloody fountain. I took the cotton off my sore finger once and stuffed it in my ear on the Baptist side. But just once. My mother attended to that.” Pg 7.
“But you sure hear plenty about Hell at the Baptist Church. . . . that preacher hollers himself red in the face about Hell. When you get to hell with your Everlasting Life, the devil waves his pitchfork and turns it into Everlasting Damnation, and he builds a fire under you and you wail and gnash your teeth . . . If I have to go to Hell, I sure hope I go to the one for Episckpalians, and don’t, by mistake, get pushed into that horn punching, and tail wagging, red hot blazing one the Baptists are going to have.” Pg 25.
“China has millions of people. The tall ones live up North and the short ones live down South. My grandmother says my legs are too long. I would have to live up North and that would be aweful. But maybe China does not have Yankees.” Pg 45.
“The Baptist church is next door to our church. They sing as loud as they can all the time we are trying to pray. I bet the Lord can’t hear one word we say. The Baptists sing about plunging sinners in a bloody fountain drawn from Emmanuel’s veins. We sing about Crown Him Lord of All. I think it is much more ladylike to crown the King than to be plunging around in a bloody fountain. I took the cotton off my sore finger once and stuffed it in my ear on the Baptist side. But just once. My mother attended to that.” Pg 7.
“But you sure hear plenty about Hell at the Baptist Church. . . . that preacher hollers himself red in the face about Hell. When you get to hell with your Everlasting Life, the devil waves his pitchfork and turns it into Everlasting Damnation, and he builds a fire under you and you wail and gnash your teeth . . . If I have to go to Hell, I sure hope I go to the one for Episckpalians, and don’t, by mistake, get pushed into that horn punching, and tail wagging, red hot blazing one the Baptists are going to have.” Pg 25.
“China has millions of people. The tall ones live up North and the short ones live down South. My grandmother says my legs are too long. I would have to live up North and that would be aweful. But maybe China does not have Yankees.” Pg 45.
Friday, January 24, 2003
words for the day:
fabliau (fablee-o) noun plural fabliaux: a short usually comic, frankly course, and often cynical tale in verse popular in the 12th and 13th century.
fabular: adjective, of relating to, or having the form of a fable
fabulist: noun, a creator or writer of fable, a liar
"I would love to write a fabliau, however, I don't believe I could ever write fabular literature as well as the most famous and fabulous fabulist Asop."
fabliau (fablee-o) noun plural fabliaux: a short usually comic, frankly course, and often cynical tale in verse popular in the 12th and 13th century.
fabular: adjective, of relating to, or having the form of a fable
fabulist: noun, a creator or writer of fable, a liar
"I would love to write a fabliau, however, I don't believe I could ever write fabular literature as well as the most famous and fabulous fabulist Asop."
Thursday, January 23, 2003
Tuesday, January 21, 2003
Someone told me the other day that she thought the “stars were aligned for her” all the little things were going right. She hit all the green lights on the way to work, she found her favorite pen, things were good.
I’m beginning to think the stars are against me. At least one of them is out to get me.
This morning I think I broke my little toe. I was in a hurry so I put on my shoe and walked out the door. It hurt, but who has time for complaining little toes? When I got to work I took my shoe off and saw that it was bleeding. Hmptht! Stupid little toe, bleeding in my shoe. But I’m not going to put a bandage on it, oh no! I’m wearing control top hose, there’s no way I’m taking these suckers off for a little inconsequential toe!
Sunday I went for a walk in the woods. I was looking for a fossil. Not only did I not find a fossil, but just as I was about to get back to level ground, I fell. I don’t know how, but I strained and scraped my left wrist, and got bruises and scrapes on my right hip, my left shin, my right elbow. While accomplishing all that I, at the very same moment (and this hurt the most at the time) I fell right on, (smack flat on) my right boob.
I told my friend looking for a little sympathy and she laughed and said, “You FELL on your BOOB?!” Well, it’s not like I tripped over it! “Yes! I fell right on it!” Says she: “I think I would have hit my nose first.” My nose—that’s one of the few things not effected.
Late last week I lost my purse. Details below.
So now, I have a lost purse, a broken bloody little toe, a skinned shin, a strained wrist and a bruised boob. (Among other things.)
I’m hoping for better things soon.
I’m beginning to think the stars are against me. At least one of them is out to get me.
This morning I think I broke my little toe. I was in a hurry so I put on my shoe and walked out the door. It hurt, but who has time for complaining little toes? When I got to work I took my shoe off and saw that it was bleeding. Hmptht! Stupid little toe, bleeding in my shoe. But I’m not going to put a bandage on it, oh no! I’m wearing control top hose, there’s no way I’m taking these suckers off for a little inconsequential toe!
Sunday I went for a walk in the woods. I was looking for a fossil. Not only did I not find a fossil, but just as I was about to get back to level ground, I fell. I don’t know how, but I strained and scraped my left wrist, and got bruises and scrapes on my right hip, my left shin, my right elbow. While accomplishing all that I, at the very same moment (and this hurt the most at the time) I fell right on, (smack flat on) my right boob.
I told my friend looking for a little sympathy and she laughed and said, “You FELL on your BOOB?!” Well, it’s not like I tripped over it! “Yes! I fell right on it!” Says she: “I think I would have hit my nose first.” My nose—that’s one of the few things not effected.
Late last week I lost my purse. Details below.
So now, I have a lost purse, a broken bloody little toe, a skinned shin, a strained wrist and a bruised boob. (Among other things.)
I’m hoping for better things soon.
Monday, January 20, 2003
There was a woman who had identical twin boys. She couldn't keep them so she gave them up for adoption. One was adopted by a family in Egypt. They named him Amal. The other twin was adopted by a family in Spain. His name was Juan. After many years, Juan wanted to contact his birth mother, so he sent a letter and a picture to her. The woman was very happy to receive the letter and picture. She said to her husband, "My son is so handsome, I only wish I had a picture of Amal too." Her husband said, "Honey, they are identical twins. If you've seen Juan, you've seen Amal."
:0) read it out loud
:0) read it out loud
Saturday, January 18, 2003
Friday, January 17, 2003
This is an excerpt from a “private blogger.” I’m sharing the wealth be it ever so anonymously. The great truth present here has effected me, I’m buying new underware!
“Most theologians (as well as lay-people, I suspect) would agree that wearing my Christmas-new sparkling snowflake underwear is of no interest to God the Almighty, but I insist that it's an act of worship as surely as we're told to rejoice in all things. Doing so gave me the extra gumption I needed to finally attend church in Atlanta. Going for worship is something I haven't done since - well maybe last summer.”
“Most theologians (as well as lay-people, I suspect) would agree that wearing my Christmas-new sparkling snowflake underwear is of no interest to God the Almighty, but I insist that it's an act of worship as surely as we're told to rejoice in all things. Doing so gave me the extra gumption I needed to finally attend church in Atlanta. Going for worship is something I haven't done since - well maybe last summer.”
I answered the phone at work the other day. "Good morning, Science Learning and Career Center." and the girl on the other end started jabbering, and fast.
"Hi! (really excited) Wow! You sound so professional! Listen I have to take Spanish class, so my schedule's all weird and I have to register today, so I wanted to know if you know which teacher I should take? I mean, I want to take the easiest one obviously, right, that only makes sense. Have you ever taken Spanish? Do you know which teacher I should take?" (This was all rapid fire information giving, and I realized at some point that she had dialed the wrong number, and she thought I was her friend, but I wasn't.)
So I said, "No, no I don't know."
She said, "Oh, well okay, that's fine. I just wanted to know. Just checking. Oh, and I heard there is a social tonight, are you going to it? I heard Brittney was going, and it might be cool, I don't know, I might go. Will you be there?"
Me: "Ummmm, no. I don't think so." (thinking, I hope she talks to her friend about this conversation later, because leading her on in her assumption that I'm her friend is making me laugh on the inside.)
It's the little things that amuse me. I wonder if that is considered passive agressive behavior, or if it has anything to do with keeping my food in the dishwasher. (which I don't do any more, maybe that's why I need new outlets for my behavoir.)
"Hi! (really excited) Wow! You sound so professional! Listen I have to take Spanish class, so my schedule's all weird and I have to register today, so I wanted to know if you know which teacher I should take? I mean, I want to take the easiest one obviously, right, that only makes sense. Have you ever taken Spanish? Do you know which teacher I should take?" (This was all rapid fire information giving, and I realized at some point that she had dialed the wrong number, and she thought I was her friend, but I wasn't.)
So I said, "No, no I don't know."
She said, "Oh, well okay, that's fine. I just wanted to know. Just checking. Oh, and I heard there is a social tonight, are you going to it? I heard Brittney was going, and it might be cool, I don't know, I might go. Will you be there?"
Me: "Ummmm, no. I don't think so." (thinking, I hope she talks to her friend about this conversation later, because leading her on in her assumption that I'm her friend is making me laugh on the inside.)
It's the little things that amuse me. I wonder if that is considered passive agressive behavior, or if it has anything to do with keeping my food in the dishwasher. (which I don't do any more, maybe that's why I need new outlets for my behavoir.)
Thursday, January 16, 2003
I lost my purse! Seriously lost this time. I'm always losing something, but just temporary lostness, but this time I think she's really gone. And I'm sad about that. I didn't have any money in there, but being the materialist I am I really liked my stuff that was in there! My cute little blue wallet, my blue head phones, my blue compact (it was a blue purse) and my cranberry lipstick! The expensive kind! *sigh* my little green notebook with all my church quotes and my grocery list in it, my lucky Sacaguwia gold dollar and my switch-toothbrush, all gone. Scandalous, you would think when someone figured out it didn't have any money in it, they would have turned it in. I'm still hoping for the best.
Wednesday, January 15, 2003
Silas Marner, Geroge Eliot
“Even people whose lives have been made various by learning sometimes find it hard to keep a fast hold on their habitual views of life, on their faith in the Invisible- nay, on the sense that their past joys and sorrows are a real experience, when they are suddenly transported to a new land, where the beings around them know nothing of their history, and share none of their ideas-where their mother earth shows another lap, and human life has other forms than those on which their souls have been nourished.” p 16
“Even people whose lives have been made various by learning sometimes find it hard to keep a fast hold on their habitual views of life, on their faith in the Invisible- nay, on the sense that their past joys and sorrows are a real experience, when they are suddenly transported to a new land, where the beings around them know nothing of their history, and share none of their ideas-where their mother earth shows another lap, and human life has other forms than those on which their souls have been nourished.” p 16
I went to see "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" last night. It was free movie
night at the university. Pretty good movie. The place was packed out and
this guy came up, asked if the seats next to me were taken. I said no, so
he and his friend sat down. Then he looked at me like he knew me, and said,
"Don't pretend like you don't know who I am." I gave him a blank look and
thought, "I don't know who you are." He said, "Come on! I'm Bob, your
ex-roommate's, sister's fiancé!" Oh yes, it's all coming back to me now--
indeed that is who he was. Friendly little critter.
There is a line in the movie where the daughter wants something, but she
doesn't think she will get it because her father will never agree. She
tells her mother, and the mother says don't worry, "He is the head of the
household, but the woman, she is the neck, and she turns him which ever way
she wants to go." Everyone started laughing. I just smiled. Bob said,
"Didn't you think that was funny?" I said, "Yes, it's a great truth, it's
from the prophecy of Zerubabble in the Apocrypha." It was his turn to give
me a blank look. He said, "Ah, Zerubabble" like he knew what I was talking
about.
night at the university. Pretty good movie. The place was packed out and
this guy came up, asked if the seats next to me were taken. I said no, so
he and his friend sat down. Then he looked at me like he knew me, and said,
"Don't pretend like you don't know who I am." I gave him a blank look and
thought, "I don't know who you are." He said, "Come on! I'm Bob, your
ex-roommate's, sister's fiancé!" Oh yes, it's all coming back to me now--
indeed that is who he was. Friendly little critter.
There is a line in the movie where the daughter wants something, but she
doesn't think she will get it because her father will never agree. She
tells her mother, and the mother says don't worry, "He is the head of the
household, but the woman, she is the neck, and she turns him which ever way
she wants to go." Everyone started laughing. I just smiled. Bob said,
"Didn't you think that was funny?" I said, "Yes, it's a great truth, it's
from the prophecy of Zerubabble in the Apocrypha." It was his turn to give
me a blank look. He said, "Ah, Zerubabble" like he knew what I was talking
about.
Monday, January 13, 2003
Sunday, January 12, 2003
Saturday, January 11, 2003
I don't get art. I don't want to pretend to understand and like something that doesn’t speak to me.
If I see something I like, I appreciate it. I may enjoy the look, the texture, the form and shape of any particular piece. Generally for me (don’t know about other people) it’s an emotive appreciation. It gives me remembrance of a person, a place—a belief, a narrative in my own history, the stories I know and claim. Art I like always gives me something. It may give me myself, it may give me something completely outside my experience. It may give me understanding of what I’ve never known, what I may never know.
I understand that everyone will like different kinds of art. Diverse pieces will whisper personal stories to individuals on various levels. I’m glad for that, so I’m not dissing museum choices. But I get the distinct feeling that if I declare I don’t like something considered an “important piece” I am seen as less of an art appreciator than the one who unconditionally accepts that artistry is attached to a name that someone, somewhere decided was good.
I saw Picasso’s Femme Couchee Lisant and Warhol’s Twenty-five Colored Marilyns. Two big names. I didn’t like those particular pieces. Honestly I didn’t like most of what I saw. A few things held my interest. I guess I’m just not “into” modern art. How uncool of me.
If I see something I like, I appreciate it. I may enjoy the look, the texture, the form and shape of any particular piece. Generally for me (don’t know about other people) it’s an emotive appreciation. It gives me remembrance of a person, a place—a belief, a narrative in my own history, the stories I know and claim. Art I like always gives me something. It may give me myself, it may give me something completely outside my experience. It may give me understanding of what I’ve never known, what I may never know.
I understand that everyone will like different kinds of art. Diverse pieces will whisper personal stories to individuals on various levels. I’m glad for that, so I’m not dissing museum choices. But I get the distinct feeling that if I declare I don’t like something considered an “important piece” I am seen as less of an art appreciator than the one who unconditionally accepts that artistry is attached to a name that someone, somewhere decided was good.
I saw Picasso’s Femme Couchee Lisant and Warhol’s Twenty-five Colored Marilyns. Two big names. I didn’t like those particular pieces. Honestly I didn’t like most of what I saw. A few things held my interest. I guess I’m just not “into” modern art. How uncool of me.
I found a new internet penpal. It's been a long time since I had a new pen pal. It's interesting the things one reveals to a stranger.
For example: he said he was a vegetarian for ethical reasons.
I said, “I'm a vegetarian because I get physically ill when I eat meat. I'm pretty sure its all in my head, its a texture thing. I don't eat meat, I don't eat wiggly deserts (jello, puddings, flan etc) and equally as random I don't eat anything artificially purpled. (thus I am against all things grape that are not actually a grape) The one thing that defies both the wiggly and the purple principle is jelly, but I never said any of this made sense.”
He understood. He said wiggly deserts (except jelly) have gelatin in them, which apparently is unethical, he doesn’t eat wiggly deserts either.
I said, “I’m trying to get back into the groove of eating eggs. I stopped eating them about 6 years ago, but I want to start eating them again.”
He said he does eat eggs, but only ones laid on “cage free farms.”
Wow- that's dedication
I remembered, but did not comment on my childhood experiences in the chicken coop. How my brother and I had to go collect eggs, how the coop was full of fleas and how he would gallantly volunteer to “stand guard” outside the coop so that once I scared all the hens out, they wouldn’t come back in and peck me as I stole all their babies. Inevitably I came out with dozens of flea bites and a few eggs.
For example: he said he was a vegetarian for ethical reasons.
I said, “I'm a vegetarian because I get physically ill when I eat meat. I'm pretty sure its all in my head, its a texture thing. I don't eat meat, I don't eat wiggly deserts (jello, puddings, flan etc) and equally as random I don't eat anything artificially purpled. (thus I am against all things grape that are not actually a grape) The one thing that defies both the wiggly and the purple principle is jelly, but I never said any of this made sense.”
He understood. He said wiggly deserts (except jelly) have gelatin in them, which apparently is unethical, he doesn’t eat wiggly deserts either.
I said, “I’m trying to get back into the groove of eating eggs. I stopped eating them about 6 years ago, but I want to start eating them again.”
He said he does eat eggs, but only ones laid on “cage free farms.”
Wow- that's dedication
I remembered, but did not comment on my childhood experiences in the chicken coop. How my brother and I had to go collect eggs, how the coop was full of fleas and how he would gallantly volunteer to “stand guard” outside the coop so that once I scared all the hens out, they wouldn’t come back in and peck me as I stole all their babies. Inevitably I came out with dozens of flea bites and a few eggs.
Thursday, January 09, 2003
I got a rock tumbler. It's been described as "really really loud." Indeed it is. I didn't know, but once you start the process of doing the "work of rounding a rock that would take hundreds of years in nature in a few short days" you can't stop. You have to keep it going "rattle, rattle, rattle, RATTLE, RATTLE, rattling 24/7 for four to five days. Other wise everything is ruined. Just a few more days--then I'll take it away, to live in the country, where it can run free, and it will be happy with out all the evil vibes the neighbors and the room mates hurl toward it. Poor thing.
Saturday, January 04, 2003
The Handmaid's Tale Margaret Atwood
"There is more than one kind of freedom, said Aunt Lydia, Freedom to and freedom from. In the days of anarchy, it was freedom to. Now you are bein given freedom from. Don't underrate it." 24
". . . women on their own, making up their minds. They wore blouses with buttons down the front that suggested the possibilities of the word undone. These women could be undone; or not. They seemed to be able to choose." 25
"We have learned to see the world in gasps." 30
"We lived, as usual, by ignoring. Ignoring isn't the same as ignorance, you have to work at it." 56
"We lived in the gaps between the stories." 57
"I compose myself. My self is a thing I must now compose as one composes a speech. What I must present is a made thing, not something born." 66
"This contradictory way of believeing seems to me, right now, the only way I can believe anything. Whatever the truth is, I will be ready for it." 106
"We are hers to define, we must suffer her adjectivies." 114
----------------------------------
"A man is just a woman's strategy for making other women." 121
------------------------------
"It's impossible to say a thing exactly the way it was, because what you say can never be exact, you always have to leave something out, there are too many parts, sides, cross currents, nuances; too many gestures, which could mean this or that, too many shapes which can never be fully descried, too many flavors, in the air or on the tongue, half-colors, too many." 134
" . . . forgiveness too is power. To beg for it is a power, and to withhold or bestow it is a power, perhaps the greatest." 135
"Maybe it isn't about who can sit and who has to kneel or stand or lie down, legs spread open. Mabye it's about who can do what to whom and be forgiven for it. Never tell me it amounts to the same thing." 135
"To want is to have a weakness." 136
---------------------------------------------
"Context is all." 144
"Winter is not so dangerous. I need hardness, cold, rigidity; not this heviness, as if I'm a mealon on a stem, this liquid ripeness." 154
"Context is all; or is it ripeness?" 192
---------------------------------------
"Maybe I don't really want to know what's going on. Maybe I'd rather not know. Maybe I couldn't bear to know. The Fall was a fall from innocence to knowledge." 195
"Better never means better fro everyone, he says. It always means worse, for some." 211
------------------------------------------
"God is love, they once said, but we reversed that, and love, like heaven, was always just around the corner. The more difficult it was to love the particular man besided us, the more we believed in Love, abstract and total. We were waiting, always for the incarnation. That word, made flesh." 226
" . . . most likely the man, would go wandering off on a trajectory of his own, taking his addictive body with him and leaving you with bad withdrawal." 227
"There is more than one kind of freedom, said Aunt Lydia, Freedom to and freedom from. In the days of anarchy, it was freedom to. Now you are bein given freedom from. Don't underrate it." 24
". . . women on their own, making up their minds. They wore blouses with buttons down the front that suggested the possibilities of the word undone. These women could be undone; or not. They seemed to be able to choose." 25
"We have learned to see the world in gasps." 30
"We lived, as usual, by ignoring. Ignoring isn't the same as ignorance, you have to work at it." 56
"We lived in the gaps between the stories." 57
"I compose myself. My self is a thing I must now compose as one composes a speech. What I must present is a made thing, not something born." 66
"This contradictory way of believeing seems to me, right now, the only way I can believe anything. Whatever the truth is, I will be ready for it." 106
"We are hers to define, we must suffer her adjectivies." 114
----------------------------------
"A man is just a woman's strategy for making other women." 121
------------------------------
"It's impossible to say a thing exactly the way it was, because what you say can never be exact, you always have to leave something out, there are too many parts, sides, cross currents, nuances; too many gestures, which could mean this or that, too many shapes which can never be fully descried, too many flavors, in the air or on the tongue, half-colors, too many." 134
" . . . forgiveness too is power. To beg for it is a power, and to withhold or bestow it is a power, perhaps the greatest." 135
"Maybe it isn't about who can sit and who has to kneel or stand or lie down, legs spread open. Mabye it's about who can do what to whom and be forgiven for it. Never tell me it amounts to the same thing." 135
"To want is to have a weakness." 136
---------------------------------------------
"Context is all." 144
"Winter is not so dangerous. I need hardness, cold, rigidity; not this heviness, as if I'm a mealon on a stem, this liquid ripeness." 154
"Context is all; or is it ripeness?" 192
---------------------------------------
"Maybe I don't really want to know what's going on. Maybe I'd rather not know. Maybe I couldn't bear to know. The Fall was a fall from innocence to knowledge." 195
"Better never means better fro everyone, he says. It always means worse, for some." 211
------------------------------------------
"God is love, they once said, but we reversed that, and love, like heaven, was always just around the corner. The more difficult it was to love the particular man besided us, the more we believed in Love, abstract and total. We were waiting, always for the incarnation. That word, made flesh." 226
" . . . most likely the man, would go wandering off on a trajectory of his own, taking his addictive body with him and leaving you with bad withdrawal." 227
Friday, January 03, 2003
I went to a dinner party last night. There were Chinese guests and a few American guests. I learned many things. An example:
A Chinese girl talking: "American's eat cheese for no reason at all. Just for a snack!"
Same girl later: "It is proven that American women have longer noses than Chinese women"
Quiet older Chinese man: "That's true, how do Americans kiss one another?"
there was also the discussions about eating your food live: Live newborn mice (it's okay because they are newborn, they are completely clean) and live octopus
according to the Chinese and Korean traditions-- and this is why I'm a vegetarian.
A Chinese girl talking: "American's eat cheese for no reason at all. Just for a snack!"
Same girl later: "It is proven that American women have longer noses than Chinese women"
Quiet older Chinese man: "That's true, how do Americans kiss one another?"
there was also the discussions about eating your food live: Live newborn mice (it's okay because they are newborn, they are completely clean) and live octopus
according to the Chinese and Korean traditions-- and this is why I'm a vegetarian.
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