Car skills, pt. 2.

On my way to a pedicure appointment with my mom last night, I passed by the auto parts store. I was running about half an hour early, and that passenger side headlight was still fading, so I figured "what the heck" and pulled in.

The men at the counter were impressed when I headed straight for the bulb and then immediately to the register...at least, until I admitted I had been in yesterday. We all chuckled, I paid, I left. I still had twenty-five minutes, and the light in the lot was okay, so I decided to win one for the girls and popped the Little Civic's hood in the parking lot of the O'Reilly.

This was supposed to be the "easier side" to replace, as there was no power steering fluid container in the way on the passenger side, but there was a connecting wire the other side had been missing. Joy of joys...I successfully wrestled the old bulb out in just a few minutes, but spent the rest of my half hour fighting to fasten the wire into the new one.

Just as I was about to give up, I wiggled the wire, it slid smoothly into place, and I fitted the weather seal over the whole operation. Swaggering just a little bit with gender-neutral accomplishment, I picked up my paper towels and dead bulb, and headed towards the trash can.

At that moment, a car came roaring into the parking lot, pausing just long enough to discharge a man in coveralls from the passenger seat. "Your on-the-spot mechanic has arrived!" he hollered, running to my rescue. "I got a phone call that someone had a hood popped in the parking lot, and here I am! What's the problem?"
"Actually, I just fixed it."
He deflated a little, but persisted.
"You a mechanic?"
"Eh, a mechanic in training."
"That's my favorite kind of mechanic." We were at the entry of the store now, and he faced me squarely.
"My name's Derrick. Can I have your number?"

I told him I was going to meet my momma, and my boyfriend might not like that...but thanked him very much for the help!

More car skills.

The newest addition to the "things I can do to/for my car" list: changing the head light bulb. Even though it took a little wrangling, Googling, and brow furrowing from my dad, the entire operation was successful!...and made me realize just how dull my passenger side light was getting. Looks like I'll have another opportunity to practice this new skill tomorrow!

Still a little kid at heart.

As a little kid, I was really into swords 'n' sorcery and video games--I played Final Fantasy on my aunt's old-school Gameboy, leapt on anything that referenced mythology, and cried when I finished Final Fantasy X. Even as a (semi) grown-up, I've got more than a passing familiarity with video games*, and tend to have one or two on reserve at any given moment.

I've been on a Sims 3 kick lately, but in the rush of moving out last Friday, I completely zoned out and forgot my game disks. Cue the sad face.

Luckily, I have another game on hand...one that I had banished to the dark recesses of my external hard drive, but one that will see the light of day soon.

Mrglrglrl!

Yes, sadly, that's right. It's World of Warcraft time.


*Incredibly useful when talking to guys. I think I've accidentally stolen a few of my friends' interests this way, but I swear it's unintentional! Knowing how to prolong the double chainsaw weapons in Dead Rising is vital information, and who doesn't love that cross-dressing scene in FFXII?

Congratulations, Arielle and Adam.

I wish you the best of luck in your life together. With such a beautiful beginning, there can be nothing but goodness in front of you.


“El amor
nace
con el placer de contemplarse,
se alimenta
con la necesidad de verse,
y concluye
con la imposibilidad
de separarse.


Love is born
with the pleasure of looking at each other,
it is fed
with the necessity
of seeing each other,
it is concluded with the impossibility
of ever being apart.”

--Jose Marti

What a day!

Woke up, ate breakfast, put on grownup face, dealt with traffic ticket, came home, took off grownup makeup, went running in snow (Practical? No. Fun? Yes), did wind sprints in gym, probably weirded out maintenance guy in gym. Decided not to care. Jogged home.

Packed things, unpacked things, repacked things, put pasta on to boil, loaded car, dropped basil, swore a little, crammed final items into car, heated up spaghetti sauce, took out trash, grabbed pasta, brought final bags to car, locked door, adjusted packing in car, drove to brother's dorm.

Got honked at. Wondered where pasta was. Slowly realized where pasta was. Drove slowly.

Arrived at dorm. Saw brother's puzzled face. Pointed towards roof of car. Received acknowledgment. Retrieved pasta from roof of car, discovered it had cooled to perfect consumption temperate. Ate pasta. Proclaimed it delicious.

Drove to St. Louis with no further hilarity. Rolled eyes at self and day in general.

Knitters' support group...

A few of my friends knit, but for the next month, they'll be pretty far away from me. Thus:

Ravelry

Free patterns, patterns for purchase, groups, tips, other knitters. As someone presented it to me, "It's like Facebook--but with knitting."

Uh, yeah. I can get into that.

What advice would you give?

Just received an e-mail from the head of the English department, asking departing seniors for their advice to underclassmen. The department is hoping to publish these comments in promo packets for incoming students, but it's an interesting question to consider. What would I tell myself, if I could go back four years in time?

• Most of the most interesting, brilliant, earth-shaking people I know didn’t actually graduate with perfect 4.0s, either in years or in grades. Take the time you need, and realize that it really isn’t about the numbers.
• Be receptive to change. It’s gonna happen. You can take a deep breath, and adjust your plans, or you can whine about it, but nothing will keep it from coming. Give yourself an easier time of it and take that deep breath.
• Learn to make time for yourself. College can make you very busy, but a job will make you even busier, so if you don’t learn to relax now, you’ll have a much harder time of it later.
• Learn a foreign language. This is the most focused you’ll ever have a chance to be.
• Keep your eyes open for opportunity: it’s everywhere. The best jobs I’ve had, I found because I checked my e-mail or listened to my professors’ announcements in class.
• Be nice to everyone. I mean it. Everyone, from the housekeeping staff in your dorm to the stranger behind you in class. You never know when you’ll be locked out of your room or totally stumped in lecture, and that person will be your only hope for survival. (Also, being nice makes life more pleasant for you, and for everyone else around you, too.)
• Keep a planner. Things tend to get busy around here!

This last item I know all too well..this blog has been pretty neglected through the busy season of finals. Breaks always allow me time to rearrange my priorities, so this should be kept up a little better for the next month, at least.

Nights memories are made of.

Since entering the second phase of my school's teacher development program, I've been in methods courses with the same 20 or 25 people every week. Plenty of our content-area classes overlap, too--all of the secondary English education majors are required to take similar smatterings of upper-level literature and linguistics courses, so we've spent a lot of time together through the past year and a half.

On a four year plan, the last semester of coursework is spent in student teaching. I'm on the 4.5 year plan along with just a handful of other English teachers, but most of our group is scattering in January to work in their classrooms. Last night was the last hurrah, the last time the whole group would be together (except for graduation).

I won't say much about it--quite a bit of it is of the "you had to be there" variety--except for noting that the last big moment of the night works well as a microcosm of the entire evening: surrounded by friends at the last event, reading a karaoke screen and shouting along to "On a Boat" played by two dueling pianists.

Do with that what you will...

Sometimes, laughing at yourself is the only thing to do.

I learned how to knit!



Well, really, I think I'm in the "learning to knit" phase. Still a little shaky on that "purl" thing. (Must remember to ask if anyone knows at group meeting for Vagina Monologues tonight...the women's center holds weekly Stitch & Bitch sessions right before our meetings, to there's got to be someone knowledgeable around.)

The real reason for laughing at myself today, though? Googling "knit man scarf," and receiving a humongous number of results...not the least of which are bloggers warning against "the curse". If you've been dating a fellow less than a year, and knit him something, prepare to kiss the man (and man-scarf, or sweater, or whatever) goodbye. No one is immune. Even Nicole Kidman knows of the curse. Good thing A. and I are safe--plus, I know for a fact he goes a little weak at the knees for home-made gifts. It's the little bits of knowledge that make Christmas fun.

It's SNOWING.

First one of the year! Today has been insane--grocery shopping, Vagina Monologues rehearsal, Kappa Delta Pi initiation, and Mortar Board meeting have ensured that I haven't been home for more than a half-hour at a time--but just seeing those little flakes made me perk up a bit.

Photos forthcoming, assuming good ones present themselves!

Just happened to dig this up.

...browsing through my alma mater's Facebook page.


That? Is happiness. (For some, happiness at the memories and the accomplishment...for others, happiness at the opportunity to move somewhere new for a while. For me? Little bit of both.) Nothing else to really note here, other than a bit of a reflective mood: high school was both good and rough for me, just as it is, I guess, for everyone. This was one of the good moments.

Also, check out the height of those hats in the left-hand corner. Who threw those, Cy Young?!

Word of the day: healthy.

We're almost to the end of the semester, and there are moments the homework threatens to overwhelm me. I've been referring to it as "triage time": there's too much to do, but you've gotta start somewhere, and it better be with the gushing neck wound in the corner. My gushing neck wound today is the second-to-last sociology paper of the semester...I need to finish it by 6pm (though, really, I have until 11 tomorrow). After that comes the soccer test due ASAP (I'm calling it a broken leg), the unit plan for my methods course (severe concussion), and final paper for African women's diaspora lit (early labor pains).

Despite all the academic gore surrounding me, I'm feeling pretty good. I didn't work on the soccer test or paper last night, instead snagging last-minute tickets to Avenue Q, which rolled briefly through town. L. and I were in row E--not bad for a student ticket bought in the eleventh hour. We met up with another pair of friends post-show and checked out a new frozen yogurt bar in town (yummy) and laughed over the show.

This is a really new thing to me--I wouldn't have even entertained the thought of something like this a year ago. Bit by bit, I'm learning how to manage my own stress, and cool off a little before I hit a breaking point. Even now, I'm going to work out for an hour before I begin that paper, because I know I have the time, and the workout matters to me.

I'm in a "bleh, I don't want to do anything" frame of mind lately, but that's just typical senioritis and end-of-semester syndrome--nothing like the crying jags and insane amounts of stress & panic I put myself through just a semester ago. Fingers crossed to keep this trend up till the end of finals!

Another reason to love bookstores.

The conversations likely to be overheard there are just classic. Two middle-aged academic-types are sitting just a table away, the very image of bookstore studiousness: books spread out on the surface, coffee mugs half-full, murmured conversation interspersed with quiet chuckles...and the occasional perfect line.

One just admonished the other: "Stop using sexual innuendos in a public place--you're embarrassing everyone!" The effect was probably lessened somewhat by the laugh that followed.

With the rain outside and my soccer games tonight (unfortunately, as I was getting assessed) canceled, it really is a lovely evening to spend in a bookstore. Even the announcements are entertaining!--

"Attention, customers, it is now happy hour in our café, with drink specials of.............Also, please keep an eye out for Jeff, who will be wandering around the store with a tray of spice lattes and snickerdoodle cookies."

Jeff better watch out; I think one of those cookies has my name on it.

Surprisingly awake for the night I had.

Well, today is the day: 11-20-2009. New Moon release day!

It's not high literature. It's not exactly healthy literature. It's escapist, and silly, and targeted at a group several age categories below me.

But damn it, it's fun.

Little Civic, the girls and I had a great mini-road trip, complete with Coke, Reeses' Bars and Wild Cherry Pepsi. There was some fog on the way home, but we made it in one piece.

Best moments of the trip:
"Edward! Just go away! Stay away!"
"Whee-oow, whee-ow..."
"Nah, I'm a Twi-hard."
"Ask him to take a poll!"
"I mean, if Taylor Swift can do it, so can I."

Fun, fun, fun. Though now I am sleepy.

My front yard.

I love where I live. The girls and I are going to see New Moon tonight--woo! (Even more exciting/ridiculous: the theaters in town were sold out, so we're driving 45 minutes to a small theater in the capital to catch a midnight show! Road trip!)

Thanksgiving: part II of IV

The exact moment escapes me, but at some point in the fall of our freshman year, my dorm buddies and I decided we wanted to cook our own Thanksgiving dinner. One member of the group had never had turkey, and this was decried as a tragedy; someone volunteered to do the turkey, another pies, another yams, and a tradition was born.

That first year, Twainsgiving was cooked in a cramped, questionable dorm kitchen, with all ingredients purchased the night before (so as to fit within our mini-fridges and the one full-size cooler available). Gloria, as the bird was christened, was glorious, as were the assorted sides, desserts, and rolls (even if we did have a roll fight in the lounge once we had eaten our fill). The entire evening was proclaimed a great success, and nearly everything was eaten.

Fast forward three years. Some things have changed about Twainsgiving--significant others have rotated in and out of the lineup, the location has changed from dorm to apartment, those partaking in the feast have ostensibly become more grown-up--but many things are just the same. There's still the mad rush at the very beginning and very end of prep ("Is the turkey cooking in time?...Is everything finished at the right time? Where are the plates?"). There's still a lot of catching-up and laughter. There's still the same dishes to look forward to: C.'s pound-of-butter turkey, J. or E.'s pies, my candied yams. And there's still largely the same group of friends from three years ago meeting and eating.

Sitting around tonight, it was impossible to think of this Twainsgiving in isolation: the three previous years lined up behind it, like movement in a photograph. We seem a little more sure of ourselves, a little more grounded--very different from the wide-eyed novices we were. We may still be wide-eyed novices in a lot of ways, but we have learned volumes about who we are, and what living with ourselves is like. The joking and teasing that goes along with any family dinner was there, but worn in and very comfortable: Yes, this is who I am, my attitude seemed to be. And sometimes I do some funny things! But within and around and behind the laughter and food, there was a strong core of support and love, as there can only be in a group that has grown up together.

Next year may be the first year without this particular gathering, as we travel to different corners of the country and the world, taking the next steps into our lives on our own. I hope not; I hope we make the effort to celebrate together in some way for years to come. No matter what happens to Twainsgiving, though, it has been a wonderful celebration for the past four years, and a memory that will tie all of us together no matter how far apart we drift.

Rules to live by...

(Written as a class example, for their own upcoming five-rules assignment, but cool enough to share here.)

1. Give free hugs.
You don't have to give literal Free Hugs like Juan Mann, but give away goodwill for free. Don't proselytize or expect payment. The great people who do this--Mother Teresa, MLK Jr.--become saints; you will at least become content.

2. Ask questions.
Muse. Wonder. Hypothesize. Test. Re-test. Guess. Suppose. Don't accept truth because your teacher, professor, mother, or priest says it is true; question it, explore it, research it, and find your own way to the truth.

3. Wear sunscreen.
It's not just propaganda for Banana Boat: take care of your body. You're young, healthy and strong now, so you're also smart enough to keep things that way by watching what you put in and on your body.

4. Believe in a thing called love (and don't stop believing).
Like the rhythm of your heart, love is a quiet constant that keeps life humming along. It doesn't need to be romantic love--it could be the love you have for your family, your friends, your dog, but without it, life doesn't have much meaning. Respect love when you find it and don't let it go.

5.Find something to be happy about every day.
Train yourself to see the beauty, the humor, the goodness in the ordinary, and you will smile more, laugh more, and be a happier person. There is something to be grateful for in every day, even the rainiest, coldest, worst Monday in all of history--if you can find happiness there, you will be happy every day of your life.

Thanksgiving: part I of IV

J.'s younger brother (who also happens to be a J.) hosted a group at his apartment tonight, promising Hickory Farms and turducken roll. There were also cheesy appetizer-y squares ("cheesy poofs!"), mashed potatoes, stuffing, maple-cranberry-pear casserole, and pies--both pumpkin, and J.'s famous apple pie.

Later on, there were also brownies, Guitar Hero, and a guest appearance by Christopher Walken. A grand time was had by all.

Last year, I had three Thanksgivings--one with friends, one with my family, one with A.'s family--and it was interesting to compare & contrast them. I fell into a slightly different role at each, whether as support staff (Twainsgiving with the friends), in charge (with my family, as I cooked the turkey), or guest (with the other side of family). There are really different expectations in each sphere.

There are a lot of similarities, though. Disaster is narrowly averted in every Thanksgiving celebration; I'm convinced. Last night, we started thawing the turducken at five pm, and had to make several trips out to the store for forgotten/suddenly needed ingredients. The puppy peed on the floor. Our host was cleaning up his apartment around party guests. But instead of these things taking away from our fun, they were just accepted as part of the holiday, and chuckled off. So we ate dinner at eight!--more time for the Hickory Farms, mulled cider, and YouTube videos.

Twainsgiving (part two of the four-part series of gluttony) is Wednesday night--more on Thanksgiving observations then.

Mulled Cider
2 quarts apple cider
One whole, small orange
Orange slices
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon allspice
2 teaspoons whole cloves
1 cup spiced rum (optional)

Stud the whole orange with the cloves (this is so you aren't picking cloves out of your drink later). Combine all ingredients except rum in large pot, and bring to a boil, stirring occasionally. Reduce heat, and simmer for 5 minutes; add rum, and simmer 5 more. Serve immediately. Turn heat off, and put a lid on the pot to keep cider warm.

One recipe serves about eight, but you'll probably want to double it when shopping for ingredients...otherwise you'll have to go out shopping again halfway through dinner, like we did tonight.

Question of the day.

In rap songs, why is it always the Holiday Inn?



we at the hotel, motel, hawliday innn...

V is for victory.

And also for Vagina (Monologues), which held auditions today. I decided to be a boundary-pusher, and auditioned with the most risqué of the monologues, a piece known colloquially as "The Moaner."

Going to be an interesting winter...

Music always pulls out the memories.

This song just came on Pandora, and I had to stop in my essay-writing to remember why it was familiar.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jrGmcuj44DQ

Is it in a musical? Nah, couldn't be, what musical? I have the feeling I've seen someone act along with this song, though. On TV? No...where, then?

Which of course was the cue for the most familiar progression to hit, which of course made me hum along his particular stylings on it. It's not from a musical, no--it's from a musical group here on campus, which included the multitalented M., good friend and boyfriend of another good friend (also ironically named M.) He's away in Arizona, in his first semester of grad school: it's a bit sad that I won't be seeing him at the annual winter concert. (It's still so strange that people are moving on, starting their grownup lives...I don't know that I'm ready yet. Maybe in another couple years.)

Still, what a nice surprise on a homeworky Monday afternoon.

(Also, Scrubs is hilarious.)

A little warmth in the chill.

This semester, I'm in my last of three English teaching methods classes. Fall of last year was the writing course; spring was reading; this semester is media composition and analysis. Not bad.

As the class has moved closer to being grownups with real jobs during school hours, our meeting times have changed. At first, we met two afternoons a week...then two nights...and now just one, Monday nights from 5--8. (Three hours is an excruciatingly long time for one class, but that's another issue.)

Sometime in the second or third week, F. and I discovered that we walked the same way home, and began to meet up and chatter for the few blocks our routes converged. She's a very sweet woman, a graduate student from China doing her master's work, and it's been really nice to share a bit of travel with her. We've been in class together for a year and a half, but this is the most one-on-one time I've had with her. Even though I'm much better than I was in high school, I can still be a bit of an awkward turtle--I'm never sure about class friendships, whether they exist only out of convenience or the two of us are actually friends. At any rate, walking with F. was nice. I wasn't going to look too closely at it.

Tonight, we headed towards home, sharing remedies for sore throats and colds. (She suggested ginger and brown sugar; I swear by lemon, mint and honey.) As we reached the corner where our paths divide, she stopped for a moment to unzip her backpack and pull out a small bag of red bean and date dumplings. We had talked about food and dumplings before, but I was surprised to get such a treat!

We chatted a few minutes more, waved, and went our own ways. As I walked the few blocks more to my apartment, I carried a warm little thought with me: Yup, we're friends.

It's the most wonderful time of the year.

If by "wonderful" you mean "paranoid, sprinting, shouting 'hold the line! hold the line!' and avoiding zombies" time of the year, of course.

Humans versus Zombies returned to campus last week, but I was out of town for a conference, and just got my first mission in tonight. Unfortunately, my first was also my last: leaving the safe building after the mission, my tiny team of five got cornered. One sprinted off; one was cut off, and had to retreat back inside; and the remaining three of us were cornered by ten zombies in a bottleneck sidewalk...

J., E., and I braced ourselves for the attack. We managed to take out all but one sleeper, who slunk in behind the group and tagged J. just as he relaxed. I got a shot off and stunned him before he could make it to me. Hands shaking, I reloaded all the bullets I could find (only half of what I started with), and took off at a sprint from the other zombies still in pursuit.

Two of them followed me into a parking lot across the street. If I could only make it across that lot, there would be a long, open building that would take me almost all the way home. I kept my back to the wall of a building, and kept both in front of me almost the entire way across the lot. One of them tried to attack; I shot him in the chest. I considered racing the other to the door, but quickly nixed the idea--he had much longer legs than I did, and I would have to run around him to the open building. We had a standoff around some cars, but I just missed him with my shots. I was running out of bullets, too.

We kept up the cat-and-mouse game all the way to the open building, but the first door I saw was dark. Not wanting to try it and fail (which would mean certain tagging), I kept going down the street to the bright entrance. Tall zombie circled, watching, waiting for me to look away from him, and I saw the quick glance over my shoulder too late. The zombie I had never seen tagged me from behind.

It was a valiant way to go out; all told, I made about eight kills in five minutes, and survived for quite a while as a lone female against two (and, later, three) hungry zombies. (Besides, now I can relax. I don't have to scan the world around me at all times--only when I want a little amusement from chasing humans.)

I just learned how to make stuffed shells.

There are several of these ricotta-mozzarella-basil-oregano-tomato-y pockets of goodness in my stomach right now, and several more in the refrigerator, just waiting for lunchtime tomorrow. Even better: there is a Tupperware container full of filling sitting underneath them, and a box full of shells in my cupboard.

Boy, am I eating well this week...

More proof I'm in the right field.

I'm just about to wrap up another Friday shift in the campus writing lab, and I'm practically humming in my seat from contentment.

Appointment one: discussed the point of an abstract, how to write an annotated bibliography, and hashed out questions to ask on a research paper. Learned a little more about drumlines, too!

Appointment two: talked about the wreck the food industry is in, possible reasons why, linked different authors together, found some great ideas for reorganization of a good paper into a really fabulous paper.

Appointment three: analyzing the lessons learned working through a nightmare shift at the hospital. (Lesson learned: I could not handle nursing.)

I love talking about writing. Most of all, though, I love watching others experience talking about writing--real talking about writing, not the watered-down or depressing lectures of high school. By the time we make it to college, most of us have had the joy beaten out of writing, but when I get to sit one-on-one with a tutee, my favorite thing to do is show them how to explore.

Sometimes, it's a hard sell: some appointments will not let go of their editing session. Even in those moments, though, I won't point out an answer; I'll point out a question, and let them answer on their own. Often, they just need the time to think their way through--I just function as a cheerleader. These writers don't realize how much they know!

It's extremely rewarding to watch the realization dawn.

(I'm definitely in the right career.)

Love Your Body Day

Stolen from my sixth-floor-RA-sister E.:

"To all of the fabulous people in my life,

Last year on Love Your Body Day, I sent out an email to all the most important women in my life asking them to slow down and think about all the amazing things their body does for them each day. This year, I want to reach even more people.

Love Your Body Day is a national day dedicated to celebrating the body that you have and loving it for whatever it looks like and all of the things it allows you to do. It’s so easy in our culture to get caught up in criticizing our bodies (“Ugh! Look at my thighs” or “I hate my body” or “If I was only a little skinnier…”) when what we should really be doing is thanking our bodies for all the things it does. When I was younger, like most young women in high school, I definitely had issues with my body. It wasn’t until I stood in front of my mirror, at first painfully and forcibly, in my underwear and repeated over and over again “Damn girl! You’re beautiful!” that I really started to see my body for the beautiful, wonderful, mysterious thing that it is. I did this almost every day for a year until my natural reaction to my body turned from a negative and critical one, to one that is loving, gentle, and forgiving.
While affirmations might not do it for everyone, it really did help me.

It also helped me to look at my body as not only a physical entity to be judged by society, but as something that allows me to do lots of things that I love. Here’s just a sample of some of the reasons that I love my body:

I love my body because it knows how to hold people close.
I love my body because it lets me kiss the people that I love.
I love my body because it gets out of bed each morning and lets me go live my life.
I love my body because it forgives me when I feed it too much ice cream on bad days.
I love my body because my eyes are awesome and change color all day long.
I love my body because my long arms let me reach tall things and embrace all people.
I love my body because it looks fabulous in a good pair of jeans.
I love my body because it dances.
I love my body because it gives me a voice, helps me make noise, and most importantly, lets me speak up and out.

Love Your Body Day is truly a day for everyone. Comment with the reasons you love your body, or feel free to repost this note for all the people in your life to see."


Reasons I love my body:
It can dance like a goof or a goddess.
It can run six miles.
It tells me when it's hungry, when it's tired, when it just needs me to slow down. (And when I listen, it feels pretty good again soon.)
It's strong, resilient, and in top conditioning--and that upper limit just keeps rising.
Its curves are gorgeous: my neckline, my waist, the muscles in my arms, legs, and back are all my favorite parts.
My eyes change color when I'm irritated, or really happy.
It lets me give really good hugs.
It likes yoga.
When I'm exhausted from a good run or gym day, the slight buzz in my muscles feels like a pat on the back: "Good job. That's it for today."

What are yours?

Good music for a rainy day in the computer lab.

(Just wrapping up the next article/video feature for the internship, and in need of a little background music. Thank goodness for Internet radio...and Fridays.)

Not one, but two pies!

The rain and cold and bleh of the past few days gave me a real jones for comfort food. Coming from my wonderful Southern-Mexican culinary background, I have a lot of options in that arena, so my biggest challenge was figuring out just what I wanted. Chicken tortilla soup? A nice oven roast with mashed potatoes, green beans, real gravy? Enchiladas verdes? Tres leches cake?

Today, it was chicken pie. Crisp crust--creamy interior--hearty spoonfuls of chicken and gravy and veggies--perfection. After I bought the ingredients for dinner, I realized I would have too much pie crust; going a different route than its little brother, the pot pie, this chicken pie has no bottom crust!

Well, I can't just let a perfectly good pie shell to waste, can I? In this apartment, it would almost be a sin. Especially with Granny Smiths in season, and so appealingly priced at the grocery store.

I've rhapsodized about Justin's pie crust before, but I have not yet done justice to the wonders of his recipe for apple pie.

Justin's (even-better-than-your-momma's) Apple Pie

double piecrust
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
5 cups diced apples
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
2/3 cup cream
2 teaspoons sugar
1/8 teaspoon cinnamon

(Note: The last two ingredients (sugar and cinnamon) are to be combined and sprinkled before putting the pie in the oven. Ignore them until then.)

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees Fahrenheit.

Line a 9-inch pie pan with one crust.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, spices, and salt. Add the apples (cut into 1/2-inch dice) and toss to combine thoroughly. Add the vanilla and cream and stir well. Spoon the filling into the crust. Lay the second crust on top of the filling and crimp to seal. Combine the 2 tsp sugar and 1/8 tsp cinnamon. Brush the top crust with milk, then sprinkle with the cinnamon-sugar.

Place the pie on a foil-lined baking sheet, to catch any spills. Bake the pie for 15 minutes, then reduce the heat to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and bake for an additional 40 to 50 minutes, until the top is medium-brown and the juices are clear and bubbly. If the crust appears to be browning too quickly, cover it with a piecrust shield or strips of aluminum foil.

(Source: The King Arthur Flour Baker's Companion, p. 428)

I cannot even express how happy and full of pie I am.

I will, however, confess to a tiny secret: while taking the picture above, the pie smell called out to me again, and (despite being happy and full of pie already), I had to grab a fork and sneak a teeny little bite. Just for the road. To the sofa. Four steps away. Don't judge until you try this pie.

Catching up a bit, since I'm behind.

School really likes to get in the way of writing, and I've been letting it do what it wants the past few weeks; I shouldn't, but I have (sigh). Instead of stressing out about back entries and making up time (so not what this experiment/project is about), I'm going to pick up where we are. And if I miss a few days here and there? Hey, it's life. There's a lot of living to do.

It's raining in Collegetown today--and I mean raining, pouring, drowning my poor mums and the rest of the town besides. The rain only brushed against us at the soccer game last night (good thing, too, since I was working), but looks like it's here to stay for football. Brr. I'm heading out to buy a poncho asap, and pull out the warmest clothing I can find.

Even with the rain, it's going to be a good day: the Mortar Boarders will be at the game, up to some halftime shenanigans (very sedate halftime shenanigans), and entertaining an out-of-state group. The rain may even make things better, in the "wasn't that hilarious? let's never do it again" style of better.

Pictures to come later, assuming my camera is safe in the rain.

Unexpected, but still good.

Answered the call to go in to work today, despite being completely exhausted by the weekend. I picked up the substitute job around eleven p.m., figuring that I could at least be ready to teach middle school choir after a few hours of sleep.

When I arrived, everyone seemed very happy to see me!...not just a typical friendly welcome to a visitor (and one who's generally filling in at the last minute), but really happy and excited to see me. The reason? My being there meant that a particular teacher was not. And if she was not at school, that meant she was at the hospital, welcoming a grandbaby into her family. I felt like a symbol of good news all day long--and the kids were pleasant, too.

Fall soundtrack

In my current playlist:

1. The Lion Fell in Love with the Lamb (Carter Burwell)-- so what if it's from Twilight? It sounds like October sunlight.
2. River Flows Through You (Yiruma) -- sweet, delicate piano love song. I can't say no.
3. Comptine d'un autre ete l'apres midi (Yann Tiersen) -- wistful. That's the only word for this song.
4. Times Like These (Foo Fighters) -- "it's times like these we learn to love again."
5. A Caution to the Birds (The Frames) -- beautiful, yearning, a little desperate, as only Glen Hansard can be.
6. Time to Pretend (MGMT) -- along with all of the falling leaves and cool nights, there are still some rising dreams and wild parties. College has a way of making me feel completely insignificant and vulnerable one moment, and invincible the next.

It was so cool today, I had to wear a long-sleeved shirt and a sweater. I fried pork chops and ate pancakes for dinner. I love my life.

Fun fact!

I learned something new today, while reading for my African Diaspora lit class:

The word "bangarang" is not just a made-up battle cry of strangely painted Lost Boys. (If you haven't seen Hook yet, go do it now--this is a classic.) It is A Real Word--part of the Jamaican dialect, to be precise, meaning "disturbance noise" or "commotion, noise".

It's an even better battle cry now that I know what it means!

BANGARANG!

Perfect Sunday.

I woke up this morning, rolled over in the sunlight, and realized several things in rapid succession.

One: It was ten a.m.
Two: I didn't have work.
Three: I wasn't at my parents' house.
Four: I could do anything I wanted with my day.
Five: ...I was hungry.

Eleven a.m. saw me at a local bagel shop, settled into a corner seat with my laptop, bagel, and cafe con leche. Several pleasant hours passed there, and I resisted the urge to buy a second bagel; then, I went grocery shopping. An inexpensive roast and a pot of orange mums came home with me. As there were several hours of daylight left (and I was a little videogamed-out), I went running on my much-loved nearby trail.

My goal was to be home by sunset. Six miles later, I arrived just in time. Tired, hungry, happy, I tucked away some leftover beef stroganoff before doing my laundry and painting my nails. A 9:00 meeting pulled me out of the house for another hour or so, but coming back to a soft bed made the trip out almost worth it.

It's rare for me to be in Collegetown and have nothing to do on a weekend. Thus far, my Sundays have taken one of two forms: either I'm at my parents' house, and we work at the soccer fields on Sundays, or I have refereeing to do. I think I've had one free Sunday when A. was visiting, but this was the first honest-to-God, do-what-you-want-with-no-one-else-to-worry-about Sunday I've had in months.

Perfect Sunday? I think so.

I love autumn.

So...it doesn't look like this quite yet, but it's coming. There's a whisper of a chill in the air, and leaves are beginning to tumble. When the rainclouds clear away, I can tell it's getting dark earlier. It's almost that romantic, dying-off part of the year (right before winter comes, and everything is really dead), and I can't wait.

Oh, patriarchy.

It's such fun to see what a little research into the past digs up. I'm working on a media analysis paper for class Monday evening, and golly, I'd be annoyed if it weren't so much fun. Patriarchy in the media from the old days up till now yields quite a bit of interesting information, like this classic gem from Housekeeping Monthly, May 13, 1955. (which snopes rather discounts, but it's still fairly valid...)

"Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready, on time for his return. Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too. After all, catering for his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction."

In the words of Judy Brady: My God, who wouldn't want a wife?

(Happily, I've also rediscovered Anne Taintor in this hunt for 1950's advertisements, who is the perfect antidote to the perfect housewife.)

Dream job no. 500:

Writing food descriptions. Doesn't reading this just make you feel indulgent?

"The name Bogle comes from the Scots word for phantom and this, their namesake wine, disappears like one too. A blend of 54% petite sirah, 43% zinfandel and 3% mourvedre, The Phantom is a haunting, fruit forward wine that begins with traces of blueberries, violets, chocolate-covered cherries and black pepper on the nose. Subtle notes of spice, clove and mocha complement the wine's fruit characteristics on the palate, finishing with toasting oak aromas from two years in a combination of one, two and three year old American oak."

Mmm. A haunting, fruit-forward wine. How something tastes haunting is beyond me, but this one does!

Or what about this:

"A purple red colour with very seductive and attractive violet shades. The wild raspberry aroma invades the glass. In the mouth, sweet memories of sugar flakes, red fruits and violet flowers invite us to stay trapped in its magic."

My mouth is watering, and I can't stop feeling like a pretty girl in a sundress. I love the way wine people talk about wine! I'm still a very, very new student (twenty-two in two months), so I can't say much about it yet, but I can certainly listen!

V. and I wandered into a small wine-tasting at a local supermarket today, and were appropriately nonplussed by the discussion of woods and roundness and smoothness and pepper in wines. (I didn't even know they were supposed to be peppery!) We left with a little more knowledge, a few slices of truly fantastic Brie, and also a bag of Honey Nut Scooters. (I needed a little midweek grocery shopping. It was convenient. What can I say?)

So, for the past month and a half, I've been living in the most fabulous apartment right across the street from campus. I can walk to work in two minutes, jog to the gym in five, and stroll to most of my classes is less than ten. I even live right next door to a campus parking garage! Life is perfect.

Except for the fact that I've been parking outside of younger brother's dorm, a good 10--15 minute walk away. This would not be too terrible if I didn't have to do things like grocery shop midweek, or leave the house at 7:00 am to substitute teach. (That is an awfully early walk.)

Today, little brother finally got the parking office to switch us to the garage right next door: yippee! I even have a sub assignment tomorrow morning, and don't have to walk over and get the car tonight! Hurrah and hurray, lame though it is. I feel like I'm edging closer to being a grownup, somehow...not having to dodge freshmen every time I go to work must have that effect on me.

Car's back!

Quick post today, since I'm running about working on my first internship article and the first batch of papers to come due, but...my baby's back!

Z. the mechanic sent me a ride, since it started pouring just as I was due to get her. The price wasn't quite as bad as expected, though I know I'm going to turn into a tightwad for a few weeks. (Oh well. It had to be done!)

The important part of the day is: my baby's back, and no longer making funny noises!

New thing to love: Farmers' Markets.

A. and I took some time yesterday to stop by the local market, and picked up a few small necessaries while we were there.

The most necessary of the necessaries: lamb sausage.

I wish I had pictures, but the perfection of the Greek salad we made is beyond human comprehension. Warm sausage, crisp spinach, homemade croutons...*swoon*

Along with the pleasant, full feeling in my tummy is a slight ache higher on my chest: he's already headed back home for work on Monday. Cookies and tea are a poor replacement for my other half, but they'll have to do until the next visit.

"You make the rockin' world go round..."

Lots of great moments today (sitting in Barnes & Noble with A., working peacefully on paper, realizing that professor who assigned said paper is sitting three tables away), but the best came very late in it: singing "Fat Bottomed Girls" with a group of my best friends over popcorn and a Cherro-Lime slushie on a patio in the rain.

Sometimes, you gotta let it all hang out.

Good and bad.

First, the good!: I learned a bit more about cars today, and about the way mechanics' shops work. Also, I found a mechanic I like in town (as opposed to the family guy back home, who is lovely but is also two hours away.)

The bad: I had the opportunity to find the mechanic and learn about cars because my entire power steering system went out this week. Pump, pressure lines, rack--that stuff does not come cheap. Yuck.

At least A. is coming into town this weekend, and can probably be conned into driving me around (especially if a food bribe is involved). Mmm.

Dunking booths always mean fun.

Pictures will be up as soon as I find more batteries for my camera; it unfortunately died right before the Dean hit the water.

The College of Arts & Sciences had a big shindig on campus today, with booths for each department, free pizza, decent live music, and a dunking booth, complete with beloved faculty who were willing to get wet.

Everyone loves dunking booths; everyone loves a bit of sweet revenge against demanding professors; everyone feels good about donating a few canned goods (the fee for three attempts to dunk). I was feeling pretty good by the time I left...much better than I expected I'd feel after another day with no calls from the substitute office. Maybe next week!

Life is good.

Within the last year, I've taken up yoga classes at my campus rec center. I've also come to the realization that yoga is really good for me. An hour dedicated to stretching, breathing, and letting go the stress from the outside world? Yes, please. Yoga is probably one of the best things I can do for myself right now (next to getting a personal masseuse).

It goes without saying, then, that a Tuesday beginning with yoga will be a good day. And it was: cool, cloudy weather, cancelled classes, easygoing homework/work-work, fresh tortilla soup, and a turtle latte to top it all off.

That last little indulgence (I am such a sucker for sweet coffee) may cost me a few hours of sleep, as it's T-minus 35 minutes to bedtime and I'm highly caffeinated, but it's worth it. An English structure class last year taught me the joys of pairing homework with coffee, and the two are linked in my mind's pleasure centers. Isn't that a nice twist, relaxing by doing homework? I've got to do more of those mental hotwiring jobs...maybe if I link doing dishes to eating pie, somehow. Hmm. This may require more research (and lots of pie).

Whew!

Today, I took a hard-earned and well-deserved break, and I realized:

Just because I didn't go running today doesn't mean I'm a lazy bum who's going to gain fifty pounds overnight.
Just because I didn't work in the schools today doesn't mean I'm a bad worker who will be fired.
Just because I eased my way through homework today doesn't mean I'm a poor student, and it doesn't mean I will fail.

It just means I didn't go running, or working, or crazy over homework today. That's all. It's just what happened today.

For most people, this might not be much of a revelation...for me, the three-point-ridiculous college senior, stubborn athlete, and lifelong perfectionist, this is huge! A. was ecstatic earlier today when I admitted that "I just might not be that interesting right now; I'm in the dull part of the day."

"Good! That's great, hon!" he laughed back over the phone. "It's so good to hear those words from you--you can have dull days! There should be days you don't do anything interesting at all and relax."

Today was that day. I did do a teeny bit of reading for class and video editing for the internship, and attended my evening class, but other than that, I slept in, relaxed, played video games, cooked for the fun of cooking, and eased my way into the week. I feel fantastic, miles away from the very tired and very stressed place I was in just last night.

Now, if I can only hold onto that sense of relaxation--and my directions to get it--for the rest of the school year, I should be in good shape.

Good bloggers borrow; great ones steal.

Or something like that.

Wholesale larceny will be taking place very, very soon, because I am stealing this fabulous idea asap.

I might argue that this entire experiment is a sort of inspiration board of words and memories...but if my progressive teacher education has taught me anything, it's that people read many different alphabets, and only one starts with "A, B, C." A visual inspiration board might be something cool to do one of these days off, if I ever give myself one! (Tomorrow, perhaps: I'm fighting myself over accepting a sub assignment vs. resting after working hard eight days straight.)

We made it through another week!

Time to celebrate!

Friday I'm In Love

One writing lab appointment, several errands, and a few hundred words away from two days of freedom--yesss. I love Fridays.

monday you can hold your head, tuesday wednesday stay in bed, or thursday watch the walls instead...it's friday i'm in love

Taking time.

Thought for the day: Happiness will not just come to you. Sometimes, you have to look for it; sometimes, you have to create it.

After a triumphant (but exhausting) Wednesday, I took a little bit of this morning for myself. Forty minutes, a good book, a cup of coffee, a pumpkin scone, and a park bench. I can still feel the serene, quiet feeling following me around. It was the perfect forty-minute interlude, and afterwards, I walked to class smiling.

Firsts.

First of all, I would just like to say:

I can do anything.

Today was my first day substituting in a new school district, and I was called into a school I hadn't yet visited through college field placements. What's more, I wasn't called in as a regular classroom teacher--the assignment called for a paraprofessional, an assistant to the teacher and a signal of someone in the class who would need some Extra Attention.

Okay, no problem, I've worked with English language learners before, I've worked with kids who have some behavior issues before...but I have no idea how to help with a student who has a physical disability or condition. But I'm just a para. There will still be a teacher in the room. This is okay.

When I arrive, I find out that I'm working at the Boys & Girls' Town, and I'm nervous. These are twelve-year-olds who've been through more than I can imagine. My childhood was normal for a white, middle-class child--"normal" for them has been very different. I was so nervous before they came in, wondering: How will I relate to these kids? Will they care? What is the regular teacher going to expect of me? Are we going to have a good day?

We had a great day. We worked on math, science, and reading; we ate lunch together; we played Speed and chess and Egyptian Rat Race. There were a few moments of serious conflict resolution and hidden nervousness, but the class was full of wonderful characters and a fantastic teacher, too. When I go back again, I'll have a little more of the routine down, and can't wait to spend more time with the kids. (I have to polish my chess skills, too--I was very soundly beaten today!)

After my first day of school, I raced home, made dinner (first attempt at mussels!), and hurried off to my first center in college soccer. When I arrived, there was another surprise waiting: one of the leading members of my officials' association, waiting with a clipboard and a rulebook, already watching the men's game (and planning to stick around for mine). A surprise assessment, on my first game! Joy.

Two whistles into the game, I was relaxed, running with the play, and having a fantastic time. Only 90 minues and one preventative yellow card later, we were finished, and I was done for the day.

Teach, referee, cook mussels? Just to repeat: I can do anything.

Oh, school/life.

Things I like:
*Remembering a mandatory meeting several hours before the scheduled time, rather than several minutes.
*Taking myself out to dinner.
*Mussels on sale at the grocery store.
*Juicy Juice.

Things I like less:
*Sixteen hour days.
*Being torn between seeing friends and getting sleep.
*Cheese not on sale at the grocery store.
*Sore feet.

All in all, the day probably balanced out fairly well. Good night!

*snicker*

It is quite awful, horrible, silly escapist literature, and I'm not sure which I like better: chuckling over Twilight, or outright making fun of it.

Some of the best:

My Rejected Twilight Screenplay
Movies in Minutes: Twilight

Giggle.

It's September already?

When I first started blogging, I was a little worried about finding things to write about. “A new post every single day? Where am I going to find that kind of material? Won’t I just start repeating stupid things like ‘Ate a cheeseburger’ or ‘Slept lots’ or ‘Saw people I like’? Will it be boring? Can I stick with it?”

Very nearly one hundred posts later, I can definitively answer: Yes, everywhere, no, no, and emphatic YES.

Material has been shockingly easy to find—I’ve learned that amazing things happen every day, if you’re open to them. I’ve written about people I know, people I meet, beautiful or ironic or plain silly things that simply happen over the course of a day. Where I used to let them happen, then slip away, recording happy moments has compelled me to hang on to them. Even if the post doesn’t go up until noon the next day, I think about what I will write every evening before I go to bed: what good things happened to me today?

What an awesome question to ask.

I think I’m happier, more able to deal with the crappy things that happen to all, just because I’ve become more focused on the positive. Sure, it’s hard some days—and I won’t deny wigging out a few times since fall obligations have started up again—but “hard” isn’t “impossible,” and it gets easier every day.

I’m also so happy that I started this experiment when I did. Senior year of college is an important, crazy, fun, hectic time. I have a million memories already, and I want to remember as much of it as I can for as long as I can. This will help. I’ve always enjoyed having a record of where I’ve been, and I’ve already been some incredible places this year.

Here’s to continuing the experiment.

"That that pure sanguine complexion of yours may never be famisht with pot lucke."

I love a good potluck. The girls definitely took out all the stops for this one...


L.R. brought a pasta salad, the first dish she had ever made for anyone besides family--hurrah for new horizons!


My roomie B. made chocolate-covered strawberries and potato skins (the latter of which we ate immediately...thus the empty plate). Also, please note how many strawberries have already been eaten. This was a hungry crowd.


...and L. created an amazing Greek pizza, which was devoured in due time.

I made brownies, but by that time in the evening, we were all too busy eating and laughing at spoof videos online to care much about photographs. So, in summary, it was about as perfect a potluck as is possible...at least, until we have that Cupcake Swap we planned. Mmm, cupcakes. You know how I feel about cupcakes.

Lunch break!

It was an extremely busy day, so lots of great things happened, but one of my favorite moments came around midday, when I had a short break from class, meetings, training, etc.--and it didn't cost me much at all: just a box of sushi, and a spot on the grass.

I'm sure I looked a little funny just parked on the grass in the Law Quad (most people choose the main quad to hang on), but this year, I've found that I care much less about looking funny, and much more about enjoying what I do. Ten minutes to each lunch before class; I'm not going to lock myself in the windowless auditorium ten minutes early when it's so beautiful outside.

Another happy moment today: scratching off an item in my bucket list! When I said "teach a yoga class," I did NOT mean "...to two Marines in the extra martial arts room in the gym when our regular yoga teacher didn't show up and the room was locked." We all stretched, breathed, joked, and stretched some more. Even if it wasn't perfect (I definitely need to learn more about this, and soon), our morning suited us just fine.

And another: reading a friend's script at a playwriting workshop. Such fun!

And one more: keeping cool and calm, even when the stress and busy-ness threatened to overwhelm me.

What a wild (but still good) day.

"Nevermore."

How cool is this?

"A graphic anthology of Edgar Allan Poe's short stories." Completely cool. And also completely perfect for using in a classroom--when I saw this sucker in the stacks of the local Barnes & Noble, you'd better believe I snatched it right up. There are graphic adaptations of The Raven, Tell-tale Heart, Fall of the House of Usher--titles on any high school English teacher's list--each created by a different artist, and each giving a totally different take on Poe.

It lent itself really nicely to a media-literacy warm-up today, for my education methods class, and could have opened up a unit in a regular class very easily. We were starting to fall into some great conversations, but I did have to give the room back to our profs eventually. Oh well. Some freshman class is (hopefully) going to eat this up.

There's a gorgeous stretch of trail not too far from my apartment, and ever since I discovered the joys of not running around a track, I've spent a lot of time there. If I'm there at the right times in the right seasons, I can catch the sunrise from behind the trees, or watch the snow melt into the creek, or even just listen to the leaves rustle and various woodland creatures going about their days. It's fantastic. It's beautiful. It's religious, and humbling: every time I'm there, I'm stuffed to the gills with pleasure and gratitude at the perfect, little beauties of it all.

So this is where I went running today.

A few people were stretching at the trailhead when I jogged up, and we all tossed "good morning"s at each other. (Another thing I love about this place: the people are so friendly!) One man approached me after a few minutes, while I was stretching, and asked if I was training for a marathon; a fair question, as I was wearing a marathon-y training shirt and very marathon-y wraparound sunglasses. We chatted for a few minutes. His name was G., and his running partner was running an hour late. Was I heading off now?

I told him yep, and that I might not be good company (due to my panting and gasping for air around the thirty-minute mark), but that he was welcome to jog along too. Normally, this isn't the kind of thing I'd do--my stranger-danger sense is jumpy--but since it was ten a.m. on a Sunday morning, the trail was well-populated, and he wasn't giving off any creepy vibes, I figured it would be nice to have a running buddy.

Boy, was it ever.

Turned out that G. was an international marathon runner, hailing from Kenya, and training for an event in the Midwest in a few months. He gave me pointers--"Keep your hands like this, so your body does not become too loose"--and, as a running buddy will do, kept me moving quickly. At the end of a forty-five minute run, my muscles were humming and I was wiping sweat out of my eyes. He looked like he had just finished a walk around the block. (Unfair. Maybe someday, I can run like that, and just bounce around town all day long.)

We did exchange e-mails after the run ("Next Sunday, we will have a long run. Ten a.m.? We will run for an hour--or less, since you are tired!")...so now I may have the world's best running partner. Just another example: I meet the best people in this town!

"Retreat" is the right word...

Tonight, I'm heading out of town with a group of friends (the Mortar Boarders; see here for the rundown) to have a retreat. Lots of food, lots of talking, and no homework or work-work for twenty hours or so: sounds perfect. This has been a wild week! My fingers are crossed that things settle into a schedule over the next week; otherwise, this semester is going to be much rougher than anticipated.

But for now: I'm beating a hasty retreat out of town.

Getting the semester rolling...

Yesterday, I got the substitute job I interviewed for--yippee!

Today, I attended the sub orientation for said job--eek! This town is much more serious about its subs than I had guessed: after a long application, several letters of recommendation, and an interview, we had a three-hour seminar to wrap up our paperwork and get prepped for working in the schools. Whew! I'm a little nervous, but I've worked in these schools before, and I know I can handle it (and even have a great time).

Quick updates because I'm behind on work...oops.

Lunch date?

I packed a salad, an orange, and a can of Izze to take to the park today, so I could a) get out of my apartment for a while, b) enjoy the beautiful day, and c) get my thoughts in order before the school year started.

Imagine my surprise when I got to the park, settled into my blanket, and found myself barely four feet from the furry back of a woodchuck. He rumbled off into a creek bed for a few minutes before reemerging on the other side, snuffling around in the grass for food and generally being oblivious to any human presence. (I would have given him a carrot, if he'd only asked...)

There was quite a lot of human activity going on today, too: freshmen picnicking, babies laughing, jugglers and unicyclers doing their thing (really!). The entire scene highlighted so much of what I love about this town: its oddity, but also its strong community vibe. We were all outside, together, perhaps stopping to chat for a few minutes, just because it was a beautiful day and we all wanted to be there.

Mini road trip!

My teacher buddy V., her fiance M. and I trucked downstate today to visit the State Fair. It was my first time at any state fair, or anything bigger than a city carnival, so this--a real, honest-to-goodness festival--was dazzling.



In a very Midwestern sort of way. (This was just a tiny slice of the midway--the rest of the carnival stretched all around us, and the livestock, food, stages, and other parts of the fairgrounds made it seem like we were in another state!)


V. and M. are two of my favorite people, and the fact that they're getting married in a year (a year! so soon!) is the icing on the cake. They had already attended state fairs (she in South Carolina, he in Texas), but all of us agreed that this state's fair was legit. Too legit to quit.

I petted horses, ate the best pulled pork sandwich of my life (M.'s comment: "This is dangerous."), rode the Ferris wheel and bumper cars, saw all the sights, ate a funnel cake, and wrapped up the day with free chocolate and ice cream samples from a tourist trap on our way home. Exhausted, full, and happy--that's me.

"Married Life" by Michael Giacchino

Made me cry the first time I saw Up, made me cry when I saw it again tonight, makes me cry just hearing the simple piano melody. In five minutes flat, Disney had me conditioned--and I love it.

Attendance prizes?

My teacher friends reunited tonight after a long summer apart: some of us studied abroad, others worked, and all of us had stories to tell.

This in itself was fantastic; the icing on the cake was the free food I walked home with. Who begins the evening at a bar with friends and ends it at home with a free cucumber, tomato, and Thin Mint Blizzard?

I'm still not sure how it happened myself, but it was a darn fine night. (And I cannot wait for breakfast tomorrow.)

Transition period.

First night in the new apartment: many boxes, very messy. Ate Indian dinner with A., and discussed money as meme, Dark Knight as allegory for current American fears, and whether that guy in the corner was my ex or just a long-lost twin. Fell asleep early. Excellent evening.

First dinner cooked in the new apartment: rotini noodles with homemade meat sauce. Mmm. And a slice of roomie's/roomie's boyfriend's tasty HyVee pizza. Nom nom nom.

First party in the new apartment: bbq reunion of all the old journalism dorm friends. Tasty burgers and epic fruit salad, as well as a guest appearance by Samuel L. Jackson. (I have had it with these monkey fightin' snakes on this Monday through Friday plane!)

I'm still in the transition stage, but it's starting to feel a little bit like home.

Deep breath before the plunge into another semester.

The past week of "vacation" has been fantastic--lots of sleeping in, catching friends that I've missed all summer, training on a more flexible schedule, playing video games, and (currently) simply sitting and listening to the rain. When I leave in roughly an hour, the wet will be a liability--more stressful drive out of town, more uncomfortable moving of cardboard boxes--but for now: ahhh. I love the rain.

Next post will be from the new apartment in College Town...

Lots of activity the past few days.

Championship games at the family soccer fields (Mexico beat Honduras soundly, though everyone was a good sport about it), preparing a friend for the move into her first house, preparing myself to move into the apartment, and also taking a much-needed vacation.

(So what if I'm "vacationing" in my own house by watching TV and playing Warcraft? It's a chance to do what I want, and that is more valuable than gold.)

Very slim, uninformative update, I know, but I'm gathering steam for the next week. School resumes on the 24th--there's precious little summer vacation left. I plan on enjoying it!

Do mine eyes deceive me?

...how much battery life do I have?


I cannot remember the last time I had a whole number in the "hours" place. Even the "28 minutes" part is better than I'm used to--right before I bought the new battery, I was lucky to have 15 minutes of juice on a full charge! Once I pull some of my old games onto an external hard drive, the good old MBPro will be able to run longer and faster than it has in years. Almost like getting a new computer again, but without the awkward learning-about-you-and-why-you-deleted-my-iTunes-library phase. Yippee!

Finally, Friday.

Just a simple, short post for today, but also a really nice break from the craziness of this week (and next): having dinner out with my mom.

When we're both busy, we tend to snap and phrase things in unfortunate ways, which results in some tension and derails what might otherwise be good discussions. Tonight was a nice chance to relax and just talk. (Even if she makes you crazy sometimes, you've gotta love your mom.)

Bargain hunting!

What with the moving into my first apartment and all, I am in serious need of furniture. It is a furnished apartment--so things like bed, sofa, dresser, dining room table are covered--I only have to hunt for the extras: lamps, lounging chairs, bookshelves, rugs, etc.

The Unique, my favorite in-town thrift store, is just a few miles down the road from my house. Feeling a bit stir crazy, I headed out of the house and to the store in hopes of finding some small piece of furniture I could cart back to Collegetown next time I went.

Every time I walk into a consignment shop, I remember what I love about thrift shopping. There's a little bit of a thrill I just don't get at the mall--there's more to the hunt for a good item here, where there aren't racks of the same item in every size except yours. If you find something exciting here, and it fits and/or works correctly, that's a real accomplishment. At the end of the day, I always found I've gotten a lot of bags for my buck--and go home with more bucks than I would have on a mall day. Add that to the fact that I don't need brand-new stuff, and by buying used new resources are conserved, etc. etc., and everybody wins!

I won today by scoring a) a classy lamp with an ugly lampshade, b) a 95-cent lampshade, c) a new set of plates, d) a white cardigan, and e) two tea/coffee cups and plates, in a pattern I admired when I saw it in JC Penney for $40 per set, and adored when I noticed it in the thrift for 70 cents.

Victory!

I'm still looking for that comfy chair, though. And maybe some weird, vintage-y "statement" rings. But those are prey for another afternoon of bargain hunting...

Music for the day.

(Bizarre video, great song.)

<3 Joss Whedon.

Especially <3 Dollhouse. Twisted, inventive, fantastical, certainly fun--all I've come to know and love from him. Normally, I don't really watch TV series, but for Dollhouse (and for Heroes, if anyone's counting), I'll make an exception.



I've been catching up on my dolls online today--I have problems committing to one show at one timeslot for an entire season. Work seems to get in the way, or I have a headache, or homework, or one of a million other things...luckily, the Internet makes it easy for me to catch up again.

Time to get organized.

Even though I have the apartment key, there are a few more weeks at home before it's time to move back to Collegetown. Work meetings will keep me here, as well as move me back: must be in one town on the 15th, and another on the 17th. I don't get much flexibility with the dates, so I have to be ready to go soon.

Looking around today, though, I think I'm in pretty good shape. Room is clean, books are in some semblance of order, clothes are sorted out...on my list of things to buy are "lamp, underwear, curtain rod, red lipstick." Pretty low-key for back to school! It was nice to feel the steady work & busyness of the summer pay off--I hate having to rush and panic in a move, and it looks like that won't be necessary this year.

(Whew.)

It's almost like being a grownup, or something!

Despite a little confusion (and not having the rent check), today I received the keys to my very first apartment! It's just off the main campus, the oldest apartment building anywhere near it. The place looks and feels like it has history: wood floors, architectural ceilings, fireplaces that once worked (but are now bricked over, likely for the safety of modern/drunken college students). Apparently, it was raided during Prohibition, and gave up quite a stash of liquor--good to see that college students through the ages have a common thread.

(Defying authority, of course. Nothing to do with alcohol!)

Pictures will be up later; for now, I'm celebrating!

Exciting game...

Headed to another tourney weekend today, with A. coming along for the ride. This weekend, the grownups are playing--just a few brackets of men, women, and over-fifties playing in the last days of the tournament.

I had a men's rec game as soon as I rolled into town this afternoon. These can get heated very quickly, and the officials were warned as a group to "have your cards warmed up." I took the advice to heart: we had eight yellow cards (two of the players on the winning team were ejected for double yellows)! Even with this impressive number, my game was not the most interesting of the day. A few fields over, there were six yellows, three reds, and a bench-clearing brawl!

Hopefully, we all survive the weekend...if we do, it will be a great time! I'm already psyched for tomorrow's games.

Experimentation pays off.

The experiment of the day?

Raspberry Buttermilk Cake, courtesy of Deb at smitten kitchen.

Soon-to-be family dessert, a gift for the lovely M., M., and B., who are hosting me once again this weekend as I travel out of town to soccer, and a treat brought to dinner with other friends later this week. Because it's that good. This is like eating a cakeful of muffins.


Did I sneak a few raspberries, here and there, when no one was looking? Were there zero reservations in my soul when I licked the spoon, spatula, and bowl once these beauties were in the oven? Have I already picked over the broken pieces of one cake (sorry, cake, next time I will use flour and Pam), before dessert has actually been served?


You bet your ass.

So many documentaries, so little time.

New obsession for the rest of the summer:

Documentary Heaven

I've wanted to watch Jesus Camp since I missed the Collegetown screening ages ago. Now, I can listen as I bake tomorrow (hurrah)...and keep an eye out for all the other films I've wanted to see, but couldn't. They don't have Very Young Girls up, yet, which came through the C-Town film festival last year, but even watching a single selection from every category (911 and Activist all the way to Space, Technology, and War) would take me months.

Time to settle in and make some popcorn (or possibly cake)...

UPDATE: I did watch Jesus Camp while making the amazing muffin-raspberry-blueberry-buttermilk cakes above, and the sublimity of the cake was almost counterbalanced by the pure horror of watching kids being indoctrinated...wow. I'm twenty four minutes and thirty two seconds in, and I'm transfixed.

Marshmallow Brownie Bars

Oh. My. Goodness.

A. is the one who gets credit for discovering this one. Borders serves a pretty mean marshmallow-brownie confection in its coffeeshop. The first time he saw the treat, my smart boyfriend thought, "Hmm. That is probably tasty in its cooled, stable form, but I bet it would be delicious if I heated it up." He was right: it was delicious, gooey, chocolatey, marshmallowy, and perfect to split over good books (and a glass of milk, of course). When he shared his discovery with me, I ate, enjoyed, considered, and promised him I would make him a whole tray of these delights. It couldn't be that hard, right?

I have never been so happy to be right. Approximate directions follow:

Marshmallow Brownie Bars
1/2 bag of chocolate chips (in two 1/4 portions)
1/2 bag of mini marshmallows
Your favorite brownie recipe

Make brownies as you usually would, only adding one portion of the chocolate chips to your usual batter. Once brownies are fully baked, remove from oven, and mix together remaining chips and all marshmallows. Toss evenly over top of brownies. Let melt together. Cool if desired (these suckers are slippery when they're warm), but definitely reheat for ~15 seconds in the microwave before you enjoy.

I might add, this is the second recipe I've gotten a proposal out of. The first was a flourless chocolate cake with raspberry sauce--dark, rich, so very worth the money sunk into good chocolate. You can make this with slightly cheaper stuff: store-brand marshmallows, box brownie mix. For a richer treat, use less sweet chocolate chips. I pulled out the Ghirardelli 60% Cacao option for this, and it really turned out nicely.

Skipping ahead a bit...

I have posts (and even pictures) for Saturday and Sunday...I just haven't gotten around to posting them yet. Later today, I promise, once I've run to the store and started preparing new recipes for tonight. Family gets lasagna with homemade sauce, simply because we've got the canned tomatoes for it, and friends get Rocky Road brownie bars. Updates & recipes will follow, I'm sure.

I've also found another site to add to my list of favorite blogs: 101 Cookbooks. The spaghetti sauce recipe looks promising, as does the related recipe for pizza dough...hmmm. There are still a few weeks left before school starts; I could make some real headway into these recipes. (I still want to make smitten kitchen's cinnamon rolls, and buttermilk-raspberry pie, and celebration cake, and...There are so many delicious things in the world!)

Soccer weekend.

Friday and Saturday, I was out of town at a state tournament. The weekend trip was actually very nice--stayed with some friends, was able to go out on the town a bit Friday night and even grab lunch and a bit of shopping before I left Saturday afternoon. Even better, the weather cooperated with us, and the whole weekend was beautiful. (Note the neon referee shirts; who decided orange was a good color? At least I was able to dress in the dark...)



Sunday, it was back home to work in the league my dad runs. Again, a beautiful, clear day for soccer. This is an international league, so the level of play is a little higher, as are the stakes!--missing the wrong call can get you in a lot of trouble. Lately, I've been refereeing the friendly matches as practice for the college season. This Sunday's game went well, though I missed a few obvious offside calls, and second-guessed myself out of several fouls. (I used to be overly-sensitive, whistling a foul every time two opponents bumped shoulders. Now, I've gone the opposite way: when I see a foul, my first instinct is to whistle, but then I think, "Nah, that was probably okay..." Three seconds pass before I realize "Nope, it really wasn't." By then it's too late.)


I'm definitely learning. And it was a beautiful day for soccer. Tonight, the muscles are a bit tight and tired, but come Friday I'll be geared up for another tourney weekend...and taking possession of my very first apartment! Exciting times.

Educational, but sort of cool too.

I'm one-half Mexican, and love being that way. The food, the spirit, the huge numbers at family gatherings--being a part of that group has a way of making people feel very welcome, and very cared for. It's just what family does. Almost all of los tios y primos are fluently bilingual, so language doesn't form a barrier most of the time. The babies tend to understand both, but only respond to Spanish, so even those of us with a small Spanish vocabulary have a few pocket terms (sientate! cuidado! quieres pastel?).

My paternal grandparents understand both English and Spanish, but can only speak fluently in the latter. In my life, I've spent lots of quality time with my abuelita, learning how to make tortillas or chile, but I've never been able to hold a long, quality conversation with her. Dad tells stories of growing up in Mexico sometimes, and I know she must have many more.

Despite being a halfie, my level of language proficiency on the Spanish side is pretty low. I took four years of Spanish in high school, just like everyone else, and learned next to nothing. (It was high school--I can't really blame anyone for that.) That exempted me from college-level foreign language requirements, so I haven't learned and haven't been learning to speak Spanish.

I really want to. Besides the familial pull (which is pretty strong), there are a lot of practical reasons I need to learn Spanish. Sunday, I'll be refereeing more games in the local international league: mostly Hispanics, and entirely men. These games are a challenge even when there isn't a language barrier!--having at least a few phrases in my book will be necessary to run a good game. (arbitra! arbitra! un amarilla! una tarjeta!) When I teach, I often find Hispanic students in my classes, too: the average number is six, in a group of thirty. Of these, generally four are totally fluent in English, one is semifluent, and one will only respond to Spanish. Hablando espanol isn't just good for English language learners, either. Something about the language goes straight to the hindbrain of any child raised in a Spanish-speaking household--if a strong voice says eschuchame este momento, she's going to sit up and listen. I love conditioning.

Long story short, I need to learn Spanish. Even though this upcoming semester is going to be crazy busy, I'm going to start taking steps towards really learning the language. Jose, a referee I met a few weeks ago, really got on me at camp about speaking Spanish. During the long wait before flying home, we had the longest Spanish conversation I've had in a long time. I found myself remembering how to say some things, and wishing I had the words for others. He promised to write to me in Spanish, to give me a chance to practice--and he has! Composing four lines this morning took me half an hour and all that Google could give me, but I wrote them. It's a good way to jump back into all the vocabulary and form that I've forgotten...and a good primer for joining a conversation club once I move back to school. I feel good about it, y espero que hablando espanol con facilidad a este tiempo el ano proximo.

(Or at least, I hope I've made a start.)