Spent Christmas in Santa Fe, New Mexico and visited the Santo Domingo and Cochiti pueblos and watched the dances on Christmas day. There were smiling young men dressed in red around the kiva at the Santo Domingo reservation. At first, they reminded me of Buddhist monks...perhaps because I've been rereading Long Quiet Highway by Natalie Goldberg.
www.nataliegoldberg.com

Also revisited Bandelier National Park, which I visited when I was eight (?) I think, and my father was living in Los Alamos.

The large sky made me feel very present and human.

view the pre raphealite painting, and then the photo....

http://members.fortunecity.com/cadieux3/preraph.html

(by artist Marie Chantal Cadieux)

Tried to find a depiction of "Temperance" from Christine de Pizan's Epistle of Othea online, but I couldn't. Instead...

http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://employees.oneonta.edu/farberas/arth/Images/ARTH_214images/Manuscripts/15_century/Chris_Front/BN_fr_848_pres.jpg&imgrefurl=http://home.infionline.net/~ddisse/christin.html&h=450&w=254&sz=50&tbnid=h5lBAQBwi40J:&tbnh=122&tbnw=69&start=1&prev=/images%3Fq%3DHector%2BOthea%26hl%3Den%26lr%3D

temperance in the history of ideas

http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/cgi-local/DHI/dhi.cgi?id=dv4-49

Went apartment hunting and walked into an apartment filled with painted glass windows (not in the windows) and photography. An old fashioned film projector and a large silver screen in lieu of a television set in the living room. Upon leaving, discovered I was in the apartment of a kid from last year's yoga/meditation class.

new life over in a studio apartment over a health food store on another street in a new city folic acid 800 mcg 3x day paba boron vitamin e vitamin a dosage not determined

quote of the moment

"Just accept the fact" she said "that you work better under pressure."

songs

The Stranger

http://www.leonardcohen.com/lc14_07.html

Hang on Little Tomato

http://www.alwaysontherun.net/martini.htm#hang

Pure

Way more than you ever really wanted to know.

http://www.websters-online-dictionary.org/definition/Pure

But kind of interesting.

Online looking up obscure things, like references to a guy who lost a battle to Joan of Arc and later got written into a Shakespeare play (Falstaff) and getting info about the representations of the cardinal virtues in medieval/Renaissance art. When I was younger I had a boyfriend who told me that he thought that in a previous life he was a Renaiisance painter, and I was kind of a pouty rich girl and he thought I was okay but he didn't really have such a crush on me. Or wait. Was that what he said or did he say something nicer? Maybe it was something Jungian. The youth had such refreshing honesty, and combined with such humility ;-) I'm giving a friend (friend turned boyfriend turned ex maybe turning friend again now) a ride tomorrow. I paid over $200 to fix my car today. I can't sleep; I think its just going to be one of those nights...

On the radio this morning:

"And on this day, back in 198-, millions of television viewers were tuning in to see who REALLY killed JR..."
Ah, Dallas. I vaguely remember adults congregating around the television set to watch that show and thinking it was boring. Not that I didn't like evening television. My personal favorites were The Great American Hero, Simon and Simon and Wonder Woman. Dallas was just boring, and the show I really hated was The Incredible Hulk. I think I liked the first two because their theme songs were awesome...and I thought Simon and Simon were cute. Wonder Woman was just the coolest. But I understand how watching television shows about filthy rich people who have unhappy lives is the opiate of the masses, probably. For a while, I too lived for a certain soap opera, or telenovela, when I was in Peru, living in a small town on the edge of the rainforest. "Sonadoras," the show was called. (Dreamers).

When Sonadoras was on (I think it came on around noon) everyone would crowd around the television set. Never have I been more mesmerized by a soap opera. I would tell my boyfriend and his family that I wasn't really an "engreida," no, but look at those girls on Sonadoras. Those were the real "engreidas!" I remember that his aunt was amused with me, and she'd laugh, but I'm not sure that they believed me. When I showed them photographs of my aunts wedding, they told me that we looked like movie stars, and wanted to know if the building where she got married was my house, and if that was where I lived. I'm sure my family would love to hear that they looked like movie stars but...

"In your country, do you have swimmies?" one of his young cousins asked me one day, as I was drinking water out of a liter bottle.
(She was referring to those things that kids wear on their arms to keep afloat when you learn to swim).
"Oh yes! In my country the children wear them, too." I said. She eyed my water bottle.
"Here, most families are too poor to buy swimmies. So they save those water bottles and the children hold onto them to keep afloat."
"Oh," I said.
"People from your country have so much money."
"I know."
"Why?" Por que?
"I don't know. Maybe because there are a lot of big companies in the United States."
"At school, I told them that I have an American girl staying at my house, and they didn't believe me."
I don't know what I said. I think that after that, I passed by them one day on the street, all the school girls in their uniforms. I said "Hi," to her and she smiled brightly and waved at me in front of all her friends.

I remember a Christmas parade, perhaps the nicest one I've ever attended. It was at nightfall. All of the school children made lanterns out of paper and burned candles inside of them. I was mesmerized by the sight of the children marching, the light of their glowing paper lanterns.

Inebriate Asylum

http://nysasylum.com/bia.htm

mistakes corrected; possible surrealistic changes

"antimal" for animal

"wounds" for woods

The day came to euthanise the cat, but she didn't come around until nightfall and so the appointment was cancelled. In the morning, another furry creature with black and gold markings showed up. It was not the same animal; it was stealthier and had a shorter tail. There was no wound on its chest. As soon as the door opened, the cat ran away.

Later, as she fed the wounded stray again, she looked over her shoulder. She thought she could see a shadow in the woods, among the dead leaves. "Is that your brother?" she asked as she set the bowl down. "Maybe I'm just seeing things." The shadow moved. It watched them furtively, with healthy eyes.

She thought
that maybe
she could have
a boyfriend
and a cat.
But the
"boyfriend"
candidate
never called.
The cat had
a cancerous
tumor in
its chest
which bled
all over the
bed sheet
all over the
newspaper
she spread
all over the
bedroom floor.

Only 27...

And yet so wise...After viewing an evite to a holiday party, I reflect: surprisingly, I'm rather social compared to many in my immediate family (at least at the moment!) But, perhaps I'm not naturally all that social compared to some people. Rather, I tend to make a friends who have a large talent at being social, and, they kindly invite me to parties and things. Then, I get to mooch off of their efforts and meet interesting people, etc. I owe them a debt of gratitude.

I have been spending too much time thinking about large and weighty questions at 2 a.m. From "little" things, such as stray cats who have to be euthanised, to slightly larger things such as personal relationships, and throw in a little bit of self psychologizing about "childhood memories" and then, onto to larger issues such as politics and the state of the world today (oh me me me, again!!) But, its difficult to write about these things in any sort of intrinsically artistic and intriguing way. How calmly I write this...

(how do I turn "I" into...something less "I" sounding...)

Printing

My printer is fantastic.

I'm printing away little copies of poems from a little chapbook/zine thing I bought back in college. I had to choose between a few poets to do a presentation for a class. I decided to scrap the famous writers and do one on a writer that is not well known and publishes independently and means something personal to me. That would be the first book of poetry I ever bought (that I remember) when I was 19, and it was not for a class. I bought it at a music store in Washington D.C., by a club called The Black Cat. Its called Transient Songs by Amber Gayle, and her twin sister Stacy Wakefield. They grew up on Mercer Island in Washington state. I grew up on Vashon Island. A friend of mine, who at the time lived in Seattle but had family in Virginia, was surprised when he saw the book. He said he knew Amber. Since I had a crush on him at the time I was like "Oh! Why not buy a book of her poetry!" Or, maybe he said I should buy it and so I did. (I could see myself doing something obedient like that at that time) . And plus I really missed Seattle. I was going to school at a conservative all women's college in Virginia. So that would have been back in 1996? About this time of year too.

Tomorrow, I have to go and take in a stray cat I was thinking of adopting to be euthanised (it has a malignant tumor). And I've probably gone and gotten myself into one of those crushes on difficult and complicated people...whatever. My printer has run out of ink. It makes an interesting effect on some of the photography ( a photograph of a girl's hand and long strands of blond hair...) Also its cool to see the stamp of Knust, the Dutch company that published the book, on the inside flap, peeking from underneath the edges of the pages.

4 poems copied and 2 to go. Gotta go get pizza and buy an ink cartridge.

I just overheard some guys talking about a book, The Da Vinci Code. One of them, who is extremely notorious for making large blanket statements concerning the intellectual inferiority of the people surrounding him, was saying its just not possible for "smart people" to like that book, its nothing if you've read Foucault's Pendelum, Blah Blah Blah. Yes, many English lit people think its an atrocious book, bestseller trash, bad writing, shows a poor understanding of the Knight's Templar, etc. etc. etc. (I think they mostly regurgitate book reviews they've read rather than formulating an original stance)

But last night, another English lit student was telling me about how his mother, who is Catholic was affected by that book. She looked at it, touched it.

"Its a book, mother," he said.

"I'm intrigued," she said.

"Its okay. Its not going to bite you."

"Well I don't know," she said.

"Whats wrong with it?"

"Its banned by the church," she said.

But after some hesistation, she went ahead and read it. Afterwards she went church. Her family teased her. "Did you go to confession?"

"No, I just thought it would be enough to pray," she said.

I'd like to see how often that happens with Foucaults Pendelum.

Which is really not the point, the point is, I'm more of a women's studies girl than a good ol' boy who constantly likes to police what is and is not smart or intellectual reading. I like hearing about the housewife who gets her viewpoint challenged. She interests me more.

Hello, sweet tool of procrastination

Yesterday I got in trouble for taking pictures of old, crumbling buildings. Apparently where I went, its not allowed unless you have special permission. I had to give a police officer my I.D., but they let me off with a warning and didn't confiscate my camera...

I'm going to start a tradition of going to diners on Halloween, because I went to one last night and it was very surreal. The diner I went to has a lot of mirrors, and so I was seeing reflections of people in various costumes (a grim reaper, people in white suits from a clockwork orange, a spotted animal with a long tail and a human head, others...) I was reading film theory and thinking "wow! this is really fascinating!" and feeling wired 'cause thats how I get when I drink lots of coffee.

The Imagined Galaxies of Ruth Stone on NPR

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=3600925

We washed their dishes!!!

the not quite
anoretic student
instructs on self:
eat sparingly so
that thou may
devote this day
to letters

Oh maybe I'll go as Aditi after all.

I found a friend who is sort of in the same boat as I am (not sure if she really wants to stay out too long, etc...)

But its too bad about the henna.

Little Miss

Tonight, I have the option of attending multiple Halloween festivities. There's the one being thrown by some students in the English dept (last year, one girl went as an "abstraction," and another girl went as a Freudian slip), the Anthropology people (they had one last year and it was huge and integrated, i.e. by other departments) and the Witches (new and intriguing). I even have another party I could've attended if I'd wanted to drive to Virginia...Its too much. I'm just going to stay home and study and watch a DVD. Little Miss Antisocial strikes again. ;-P
Anyways, the only store I know of that sells henna was sold out.

Maybe I'll make soup.

Things to put in soup:

allspice
ginger
garlic
bay leaves
miso
cinnamon stick

aditi? usha?

I wasn't paying any attention to the whole seasonal costume thing, but my roommate has been going crazy with her sewing machine and some gorgeous reddish material she bought from local large chain store. Then I remembered an outfit of similar material that a friend gave me over five years ago. The outfit is from India, and at the time I was going out with an Indian guy, but I wouldn't have worn it around him (I had a fear of being perceived as a culturally insensitive white girl). It is quite beautiful and elaborate, it even has little mirrors embedded in the intricate embroidery and I think I'm finally going to wear it. I've been reading a translation of a medieval French work (Christine de Pizan's Epistle of Othea) which in part talks about astrology and some pagan dieties (such as Aurora, the goddess of the dawn.) Red seems a good color to associate with the sun's rays or how they color the sky so I was thinking of going as Usha, the Hindu goddess of the dawn. Or else Aditi, the mother goddess, gave birth to twelve sons/astrological signs, and some sources seem to associate her with the sun (on the internet, anyways).

While I was searching, I stumbled across this girl's very amusing blog:

http://free-range.thwapped.com/

It captures the essence of highschool, and a little bit of that "highschool girl mean" ;-)

Lapidaries, herbals and bestiaries

A coughing girl rumages
through lozenges and tissues.
Oh no, I'm sitting next to
the sick girl. Others twist
away from slide show
depictions of the medieval
womb in a dark auditorium.

Outside the sun shines
brightly for the first time
in days; after chairing a
successful session he goes
home and drinks too much
and the participants' joy
at sinking their teeth into
an inexperienced student
validates their conviction
that she still doesn't know
quite as much as they do.

Applause from the next room
resembles the sound of rain
drops persistently beating
a white gloved hand as it
turns the pages of a rare book.

Lukewarm receptions are
reserved for the "independent
scholar" as opposed to
the people from actual
universities. Science as
rhetoric versus modern
notions of hard science.
Derrida has left us. Yes--
the presenters pace and
gesture as they dis-
play their passions:
Lapidaries. Herbals.
And bestiaries.

Ah, October

Its the month of colors.
Leaves of tissue paper.
When you feel like
you've got to dip
your nose into a
vat of chapstick.

You've gotten so sick
of sucking on cough drops
that you're desperate to find
any brand that's sugar free.

Ricola makes one.
Its got an echinacea and
green tea flavor.

Doesn't that sound healthy?

Others think that this is the season
for carameling apples and
painting faces. I think its
the month for sampling
as many different kinds
of immune-system boosting,
antioxidant-laden brands
of tea that you can get
your greedy little hands on.

Animus/Anima struggles

Animus/Anima struggles.
Examples #1 & #2.
(gender specific)

I. Girl approaches girl
in a bar. After idle chit-
chat, the first girl says
"Don't you want him?
You can admit it.
We ALL wanted him.
Even I wanted him.
I was identifying as
a lesbian at the time.
But if you don't,
then that's good."

II. The man who
blames his divorce on
his ex-wife's mother-
in-law communicates
this with an almost
reluctant admiration.

One of these days I'll figure out how to do that thing where you list people's websites, etc. on the sidebar....It has recently come to my attention that this person's blog is quite fascinating, especially the visual imagery:

http://agagreflex.blogspot.com/

Mine own is looking a wee bit disorganized. I think I need to pick a theme.

Cute Southern Terms...

"Tend to your own rat killing"

(admonishment when my sister and I fought)

"Boys and Heidi!"

(exclamation when something noteworthy occured)

"Give grandaddy some sugar"

(give your grandfather a kiss)

"sweet pea" "sugar plum" "dinkle dolls"

(terms of endearment)

I'm surely leaving out some of them...(?)

Nothing and I mean NOTHING is more old boy's network/bureaucratic than an entire workplace/community which allows a man to publicly indulge himself in a way that effects women adversely (however slightly it may seem to some people who foolishly think that it only counts if it culminates in some act of extreme violence) Other stuff is bad enough, too. And actually, I think that sometimes its the slow accumulation of detritus over the years is even worse. Via my own family and stepfamily I've witnessed/come into contact with the following bad habits: Southern style "chivalry" (and oppression of women), extreme fanatic devotion to religion, alcoholism and substance abuse, bi polar disorder, severe depression, suicide attempts. Thats not to exclude the many positives, but what the hell, you saw how I woke up. It hasn't been such a positive morning, yet! Before the screaming man woke me up, I was having a funny dream that I was somewhere in the south, riding the bus to highschool. I thought "Now I can view it from the perspective of someone who is 27."

Sad neighbor

This morning I woke to once again hear him screaming at his son's new mother. I was lying in my bed in a strange Indian style position, feeling like the lower part of my body was numb or like a large board was laid over me, and heard him screaming. I think its the psychic effect of his voice invading my bedroom and I resent it.

smoking & music & telepathy & such

I talked to my ex-boyfriend in Ithaca, who had called me about a week ago. Today, I was walking around on campus and noticing Jewish guys in dark suits carrying long pointy stalks of something (plants) and so I called and asked if he'd gotten mitzvah'd or whatever, and he had no idea what I was talking about (he's only part Jewish anyways). Then we found out we've been listening to the exact samealbum recently (by "Air"). He said that was weird. I said, yeah but not as weird as when we found out we'd seen the exact same softcore porn movie as teenagers on HBO. Ha ha. Or, the time when I told him about a song he never heard about, and then he ran into three different people in one night who were all singing it. Too bad he's already slept with one of my friends since we broke up (that is just not that attractive). Coincidentally he's quitting smoking, just as I'm starting the habit! Ididn't used to see how people could smoke a pack a day. But now, I can. However, I really think this is just a phase, for me. Anyways, its weird to think you and your ex have been listening to the same exact album...but I refuse to think that we have had the same exact EXPERIENCE of listening to it. Sometimes weird things like that just happen. But it means you can be better friends with people again. Once I saw a girl at a busstop who I had never seen before, but I just had a strong feeling knew a friend of mine I'd lost touch with. It was so strong, that I decided to act upon it, and I asked her if she knew her. And guess what? I was right! However, I never got in touch with my friend, because she didn't have the girl's phone #. She told me she knew that cafe where my friend worked and told me the name of it, but I either forgot or was too lazy to look it up.

I was gonna post something about Elisabetta Sirani, but...

"Lets talk about me." Discussion sections were successfully completed, and now its time to have a three day weekend...all for me me me! This is good. Because lately, I feel like my attitude is a combination of I sure wish I could kick your ass and ha ha! isn't life a grand joke. I need a lot of smoke. Either cigarettes (which I didn't used to buy but I bought a pack yesterday) or burning lots and lots of incense. I don't know why this is, but this smoke reminds me of the boyfriend I had in Peru. I went there 4 times. Occasionally, friends say "oh that sounds soooo romantic" and I say cynically, "yeah well, it wasn't as romantic as you think." But now, I feel, perhaps, it was romantic? Flying to the Amazon rainforest, communicating in another language, travelling around the Andes, staying in icy cold cheap hotel rooms, going out for Peruvian pizza...yes, it was, in fact, it was VERY romantic. Si, si, si, claro que si! Never blog when you've drunk spiced wine and have a paper about famous lovers due the next day. Maybe I just want to go back to Peru (in general). Peru, mi segunda hogar.
This is not a post about a wish to reunite with an ex, by the way. (Unless this ex is just Peru).

Old guys who think they're charismatic should get chakra healings and date women their own age.

when does school suck

when it breeds too much cleverness
when it ruins relationships
when we slander one another
when in place of compassion
we only
respect
(that means fear)
authority

Vashon Island

I'm looking for anything on the internet related to a poetry press on Vashon, for my poetry class.

Once I lived there. It was very woodsy. My mom was all into channeling and crystals and fairies and stuff.

Then I started hitting adolesence and getting a wee bit rebellious. And, then she got married and we moved to D.C. suburbs (Virginia) ultra Republican highschool hell. (Oh it was only hellish for a year or so...really...)

But anyways.

So far I've found "Crab Creek Review" and "Kota Press."

Vashon is an interesting place.

Yesterday my roommate and I went to see a band called Carbon Leaf play at a Celtic Festival in Bethlehem, PA. I really would've liked to have seen Mary Prankster in Lancaster. However I enjoyed Carbon Leaf because in concert they had a lot of energy. Plus, they're from Richmond (Virginia). Bethelehem is the other place that the Moravians (my ancestors) settled, besides Winston Salem, NC. I wore my Mrs. Hanes Moravian Cookies t-shirt. I also bought a pair of pointy red earring with Celtic symbols on them.

SCHOOL

A professor walks into
the lecture hall.
He tucks an arm
inside his jacket
(like Napoleon)
and gestures
flamboyantly
as he asks for
a show of hands

"How many of you are 17?
How many of you are 18?"

After a cool assessment
we get down to the text.

"You know what I like
about the girl in this
story? She's lost. Now
in my time...I've known
many women." Rustle,
rustle. Suddenly,
they're paying attention!

"Yes, I've known my share
of lost girls. And who knows.
I was just as lost as some
of them, perhaps.

When you're with
a woman
you think
you're going
to get

Mmmm hmmm...

But instead

you get

Uh uh...

What comes out?

Baggage. Guilt.
Problems with Daddy.

There's all kinds
of guilt, you know.

Catholic guilt.

Jewish guilt.

I know because
I've experienced
them all.
That's because
I have no soul."

(all nervously laugh)

"You know what I have
in place of a soul?
A fascination with women."

The students laugh
(nervously) again.

I get self-concious
because I'm sitting
right in his line
of vision.

"And I bet a lot of other
guys would say the same."

I uncross my legs
and zip up my jacket.
He sallies forth.

"Do you believe
in closure? Sometimes
closure is just a nice
idea. Sometimes your
heart is broken and
just keeps breaking."

And we're onto
the next topic.
The death
of one's mother.

Hooray for tenure.

If one believes in the idea that there is a "Universal Soul" ("very Emersonian!" another grad student, who came here from Kent State, commented when I told him this) then I think it could be possible to have mingled with some other soul or souls before incarnating. Which might explain why one might seem to have intimations about, or, simply be rather fascinated by, certain people. http://may4archive.org/bill_schroeder.shtml

Spill

I kind of like the song "Spill." It is by Mary Prankster.

These are the last lyrics:

Because you’re hotter
Than an August in El Paso
And you’re cooler
Than a January 5th

And you tie my silver tongue up
Like a lasso
And your smile shines like
The ribbon on a gift

http://www.maryprankster.com/lyrics_spill.html

Very Long Poem I Love In Its Entirety

This is just an excerpt. The rest can be found online.

And thus to Saadi said the muse;
Eat thou the bread which men refuse;
Flee from the goods which from thee flee;
Seek nothing; Fortune seeketh thee.
Nor mount, nor dive; all good things keep
The midway of the eternal deep;
Wish not to fill the isles with eyes
To fetch thee birds of paradise;
On thine orchard's edge belong
All the brass of plume and song;
Wise Ali's sunbright sayings pass
For proverbs in the market-place;
Through mountains bored by regal art
Toil whistles as he drives his cart.
Nor scour the seas, nor sift mankind,
A poet or a friend to find;
Behold, he watches at the door,
Behold his shadow on the floor.
Open innumerable doors,
The heaven where unveiled Allah pours
The flood of truth, the flood of good,
The seraph's and the cherub's food;
Those doors are men; the pariah kind
Admits thee to the perfect Mind.
Seek not beyond thy cottage wall
Redeemer that can yield thee all.
While thou sittest at thy door,
On the desert's yellow floor,
Listening to the gray-haired crones,
Foolish gossips, ancient drones,
—Saadi, see, they rise in stature
To the height of mighty nature,
And the secret stands revealed
Fraudulent Time in vain concealed,
That blessed gods in servile masks
Plied for thee thy household tasks.

"Saadi" by Ralph Waldo Emerson

School Days

Written in the early afternoon

Today, after lecture, a fellow T.A. came up to me and conveyed an unofficial message from someone in the department that I should not give the professor any contact information. Because apparently, in the past, at some point, he "stalked" some people. (Female T.A.s)

I'm getting fed up with this B.S.

Written in the evening

You want to know how it feels to keep being told that now you to have to work for a guy who has "a long history of sexual harrassment"? I'll tell you how it feels. It sucks. My feelings range from depression (gee, if he's so untrustworthy, why did they put me there???) to wanting to lob grapefruits at all the people telling me so (rage is preferable to feeling powerless. And then, the grapefruit tastes so much sweeter!) I'm really tired of being treated like the virgin on the edge of the volcano, about to be pushed. And now, I feel like avoiding my school. I'm really disenchanted with academia. Well I hope he's happy, because his past indiscretions are forcing me to go through a lot of extra stressful shit right now. GRATUITOUS GUILT TRIP. >:-(
Actually though, I will note, he hasn't said hardly a word to me.

Human beings are very sad.

Later

Came home, ate soup on the couch, felt MUCH better. RELAXED.

"I think our livingroom feels like a church."

My roommate says, "I love it when you drink wine."

Sort of feel the need to explain that last one, but I won't. Its bordering on tongue-in-cheek, thats all I want to say. That, and, I was no stranger to Fs in highschool!

(not) minimalist

Ahem. I am very intellectual. Want me to prove it? I own/have opened/watched these DVDs:

Almost Famous
Fellini's Roma
Fellini's Satyricon

And I own and have watched these still unopened DVDs:

Powaqqatsi
Koyaanisqatsi
Without Limits

Still waiting for 50 pages of PDF files to print... (feminist theory and ancient misogynistic texts mostly)

Come on Irene...

This posting is in regard to the links about Irene MacDonald (one of the children of Lewis Carroll's friend, a fellow author of children's books.) I wonder if anyone has noticed them. In the short history of this blog, "Lit Lover," the only comments that have come up were in response to posts about my (but lovely) damn cats. I should of called the thing "Cat Lover" instead of "Lit Lover."

In addition to being a model, "Princess" Irene MacDonald was a very talented young lady. Too bad her dad was a drunk. If he hadn't stumbled and hit his head after a night of hard drinking (after being expelled from the Church of England, the guy had an enormous family to support, so, I guess he had his reasons) while her mother was nervously yanking the snarls out of Irene's hair, she wouldn't have had to leave home and work as a maid in some rich old lady's house. Or have been seduced by some young cad (perhaps the old lady's son or nephew?) when she crept out to the garden one night to sniff a flower. The experience broke her heart, (and robbed her of her bride price) so she was destined to return home and live out the rest of her days as an old maid. (Which she did until she was forty). She might've never married, but then Cecil Brewer, the celebrated architect, came to a family function and found that he fancied her. Slowly, but surely, the successful Cecil got what he wanted. He even forgave her for her youthful indiscretion. It was really great, for a while. Then, one day, happy Mrs. Brewer overheard the bastard making love to some sweet young thing out in the garden...

How do I know? Well, a few facts I read in a book, but the rest of it I just know. From other sources!!

Here is another photograph Lewis Carroll took of her:

http://courses.ats.rochester.edu/zanzucchi/105E/Mac3.htm

What Flavour Am I?

http://quiz.ravenblack.net/flavour.pl

I realize that it is incorrect to assume that others' lives are all so easy compared to your own. I realize it may be somewhat egotistical. Yet, I think, at least once in his/her life....many a male/female has wondered...WHY DO THEY ALWAYS HAVE IT SO FREAKING EASY!!! Of course, one must be sensible...I realize, this is not quite the case. Even if previous experiences have colored my perceptions. The grass is not always greener. Ahem. NEVER. Plus, I live in America. Does this make sense?? Rose incense wafts across the keyboard. The other day the guy I T.A. for describe his first deflowering experience to a lecture hall full of freshmen. Its really a popular course. But if I accepted every extra student petitioning, I'd have at least 10 extra...and that REALLY would never do. He also told the class "Lost in Translation sucked." I bet he's just jealous of Bill Murray:-)

Irene MacDonald

It Won't Come Smooth

http://courses.ats.rochester.edu/zanzucchi/105E/Mac1.htm

Portrait

http://courses.ats.rochester.edu/zanzucchi/105E/Mac2.htm

Want to live in a Giant Milk Bottle?

http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tips/getAttraction.php3?tip_AttractionNo==1341

Want to live in a Giant Milk Bottle?

http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tips/getAttraction.php3?tip_AttractionNo==1341

Want to live in a Giant Milk Bottle?

http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tips/getAttraction.php3?tip_AttractionNo==1341

Good idea

I went to the bookstore but as soon as I got there, I couldn't go in. So instead, I took a nap in the car. My conclusion is: I am depressed.

Look. Stability in life is a nice thing. But when your parents (uh, parent and stepparent) are getting divorced, (yes even though I'm grown up it still bothers me) and your teaching assignment suddenly gets switched and everyone keeps "warning" you about the professor ("but he has it together since he quit drinking") and you don't have any other women to T.A. with, and then you have to teach a book all about suicide (which in this case, unfortunately, is dredging up some really unpleasant memories I'd rather not deal with at the moment) then I'm sorry but STABILITY is not quite happening here! I had a dream that I was supposed to run a marathon and people kept handing me things to put on the tables to give to the marathon runners, and I was so weighted down with stuff that I couldn't run it. So, my temporary solution is: moving around bedroom furniture. Well, that is better, I guess. For now! Feng Shui may be the answer. It seems like whenever I'm in school there is always some sort of conflict. I'm seriously tempted to become a massage therapist or ballroom dance instructor or something.

One more thing: I really think that ABSENT FATHERS should NOT FOOL THEMSELVES. I met the son of the guy who wrote We Were Soldiers Once And Young. A very creative kid. When I met him at a hippie-ish wedding in Virginia, he was dressed as a Care Bear. He doesn't have such a good relationship w/ his dad. My point is, success career wise and family wise may not always go hand in hand. However, I would really like to think that they can.

beer

Back to light-hearted topics.

Name 3 favorite beers

Saranac Caramel Porter (bottle)
Blue Moon Belgian White (bottle)
Hefeweizen with lemon (on tap)

Note that this is not the kind of beer you would normally find at your average fraternity beer drinking party (and I say this on purpose.) Once upon a time, I did have a few cool friends who, for various reasons, joined fraternities in college. However, (I'm going to stray from the "light-hearted topic" part for just a moment) the amount of people I know who had really messed up experiences at some of those parties (girls getting roofies slipped into drinks, etc) has affected my outlook. I hope none of my students waste their time chit chatting about frat parties when they really should be doing something more constructive (like, say, analyzing the effect of the male gaze in The Virgin Suicides.) Unless they can find a really good way to relate it to the book.

Describe some of your most formative beer drinking experiences

When I was two or three and visited some relatives in Michigan, my aunts gave me sips of their beer and told me it was champagne. "Can I have some more champagne?" Also, I was about the same age when my dad was at some point fixing the television (when we lived in New York). When he put his beer can down on the coffee table and I asked if I could drink some of it, he said "just a sip" and then both my parents turned their attention back to the television. The next time they turned around, they found I'd drained a sizeable portion of the can.

(At least, thats how I remember it!)

I also remember that I used to be totally grossed out by the name of one soda, called "Squirt." I thought that "squirt" meant the same thing as "spit." Years later, when I was 19 and went on a study abroad trip in Peru, I drank a kind of corn beer called chicha, which some of the people in a village offered me, and I thought it was pretty good. Then, with a delicious look of glee on her face, the professor told me that the traditional way of making chicha involved masticating the corn, spitting it into a pot, and allowing it to ferment for several days. After seeing the look on my face, she reassured me that it probably wasn't still made that way in this instance!!

I just tried to sign in by using my Blackboard ID and password. Hah. School habits. These exciting things happened today (oh lovely, free Friday):

1) The internet came to the apartment! (but, am I really that excited?)
2) Continued watching "Dead Like Me" (a Showtime series my roommate began renting on DVD.)
Espisode 3, "Curious George" was particularly poignant.
3) Went shopping at the mall during tax free week, which was actually pretty fun. But then I had a stupid, unpleasant interaction with a group of young men. They greatly annoyed me.

So I decided to write a poem about it.

"Gorgeous"

Maybe she shouldn't have taken off her jacket
Hey gorgeous
she shouldn't have
put on make-up, or
worn those earrings
Aw you're not fuckin' gorgeous
or put up her hair,
or walked so tall
but she did, so
they yell
they laugh
as she zips up her jacket.

I took some creative license with it. Its not always the case when I write in the third person, but in this instance, "she" was based on me. However I didn't wear make-up. I'm just reiterating stereotypical things people say about women who attract unwanted attention. I also didn't actually zip up my jacket until I'd walked to 2 or 3 stores, still thinking about it and not feeling any better. It probably wouldn't have bothered me so much, but it wasn't just that, but other things were on my mind, too. Doesn't it suck when other things on your mind are bothering you and as a result some otherwise insignificant thing throws you!!! Punks. >:-P

I guess that the e-mail at school is faulty...funny. I was just standing next to the teacher of a class and I knew it was him, but I didn't ask. And then he called my phone, and it turns out, I was right. Oh I am so psychic :-)

There are people who walk around this campus. Young men with toys they play with, and they aren't quite grown up yet, but they will grow up eventually. They'll go to business meetings, they will fit in at those board room meetings. No one will make comments about their femininity, youthful appearance, and such things will not be an issue, and I envy it. They will be "one of the boys" and I guess they've always been "one of the boys."

Sometimes, they remind me a little of myself, but not in this incarnation.

Well, back to school.

I was fairly pscyhed I was going to get to teach in a certain course this semester. I even read most of the books over the summer, and was making plans for my sections in the fall. But--I got suddenly switched into T.A.ing for a new class! Now, my schoolmates are all like: You're T.A.ing with who? But I thought he wasn't allowed to have female T.A.s...Well, apparently, I get to be the strike-breaking exception! (No other women T.A.s beside myself.) How fortunate.

Actually, though, I met him. And really, I don't get the feeling that his supposed propensity sexist comments/alleged wandering eye and whatnot will really be all THAT exceptional. Afterall, I am an experienced and worldly young woman who has already witnessed a fair amount of chauvanism and lewdness being conducted in many places, including in some prestigious doctors' boardrooms.

Ha, ha, ha.

Also, I met the girl they put in to replace me. (Or booted me out for, more bluntly). She just graduated. She's nervous because all her students will be her age, she wants to bake cookies for them on the first day, and confided that she has a terrible propensity for tripping over her own shoelaces.

Um, why???

Also, apparently everyone but me can meet at a certain time tomorrow for a certain class I'm taking, unless of course they can all meet at the same time and I can't, in which case...and the secretary person just shrugged her shoulders

*Insert sour-faced emoticon*

Want to live in a Giant Milk Bottle?

The Richmond Dairy Apartments

http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tips/getAttraction.php3?tip_AttractionNo==1341

Back to the land of apple trees

Its about time to make the long haul to upstate NY. Today's tasks: pack, clean out car. I still have old student evaluations in an envelope in the backseat. Just remembering that I didn't give any solid As last semester...oh well, c'est la vie... :-D

Last night's weird dream: My friends and I went back to a city near the ocean, and water ran under the streets, but not with big waves, and it was water the people could swim in! (Not like a sewer or anything.) My friends would jump into one hole and swim and pop up another like a jack-in-the-box. They looked so cute, like urban mermaids. I tried to take pictures but my camera didn't work so I had to run into a store and buy another one. I thought I walked out without paying it but then I found the receipt and it proved that I had, I just didn't remember paying for it. Then I was all set to take pictures. But I found out that one friend had just gone to a relative's house and they were going to look at a school she might attend. I tried to convince the other friend to go back to the swimming holes, but she wasn't in the mood for it.

Not all of the fun moments can be caught on camera.

Highlights of this Summer

(in addition to those already mentioned in previous posts)

-My aunt's wedding in Talkeetna, Alaska. Reuniting with family, hiking in the mountains, and walking on a glacier.

-A trip with grad school friends to Vermont in which we slept over at the home of the poet, Ruth Stone. And washed the NPR people's dishes.

-My cat's funky lion hair cut.

Poor Cats

So, I was talking to the cats about the benefits of my sister's departure. "Isn't it great to have her gone? Look, now you have a big room sleep in!" (Less cat hair on my bedspread, too, I secretly thought.) What a great idea! Until my stepfather said "don't make any plans for that room." My mom might have to move into it, because of the divorce laws in this state. Sounds complicated. I'm not entirely sure if the cats will be very understanding...

Obscure Literary Quip

I'm about to go back to school and mingle with all the brilliant literary scholars. In order to get myself back into the mindset, I've got to come up with an amusing and obscure literary quip.

Quip: "Too bad Mother Sawyer didn't have access to Preparation H!"

Get it???

(See Dekker, Ford and Rowley's The Witch of Edmonton)

I want to investigate things like: Watsu, TCM, various alternative health therapies. I used to work (in a rather underling position) with lots of doctors...they definitely were not interested in those things.

At a yoga retreat a few months back (the only one I've ever gone to) I suddenly got very ill. Another girl, a stranger, helped me out and took me to the hospital. We spoke a lot in the car. She said that her mother was a doctor, described how drug companies courted people like her mother, and said that it bothered her alot. This person impressed me. She was very disciplined about her lifestyle...much more than I have been about mine.

My sister just left. Said bye, wiped her eyes, and left. Dog looks depressed. No more flyball tournaments.

I was soooo down yesterday. But in the evening I went with 2 friends to a water aerobics class, and afterwards, one of them taught me the backstroke. I felt much more buoyant in the water! And then we watched Aaron Piersol get a gold medal (almost disqualified, but they decided to give it to him) for the backstroke. And its fun to watch Michael Phelps, 'cause he's kind of a local :-) Also enjoyed watching the American female gymnast win the all around.

And now, I'm going over to a friend's house. We're going to watch a movie and make jewelry.

untitled

I think my inner two year old is resurfacing. I keep remembering dreams I had in the spring about big tidal waves hitting airports. Good bye, small blue room and half closet. Soon, you will be repainted, the house will be sold, its former inhabitants scattered to various states...

sometimes sadness
is pretty

sometimes
its just a pout

First link in my blog

The is a website address/portfolio of a rather talented friend of mine from highschool:

www.kidbombay.com

We live on opposite coasts so who knows when we'll next talk to each other. But he returned a phone call the other day and, gosh darn it, I appreciate that :-)

I've been having disturbing dreams relating to divorce. This is par for the course. I have never played golf.

strange beauty

Sometimes, after someone has undergone an experience of tremendous sadness, he/she will look very beautiful afterwards.

I saw a girl once at a party who had just broken up with her fiancee. When you spoke to her, she said she was in great pain and didn't even want to be there. But to look at her! Her hair seemed more beautiful, her eyes sparkled, her whole being seemed 100 times more radiant...but of all of this, she was completely unaware. And when you told her, she didn't believe it.

Insomnia

I think certain family traits are surfacing. A slight touch of OCD. I think I'm becoming (temporarily) obsessed with clothes. (My clothes obsessed English teacher aunt would be proud of me).

For much of my life I have been totally happy going around in a floppy t-shirt and jeans. But, since my friend got me to buy that light/bright outfit, the mall is suddenly looking like a fun and creative place! I can't sleep because I'm thinking of ways to brighten my wardrobe...for example: dark green pants with all the zippers, a brown camisole....brighten it by adding an off the shoulder sheer pink top with sparkly butterfly accessory attached! Which I didn't buy! Because I'm not sure if the cheap looking sparkly thing would fly (since I'm no longer a teenager) unless I go to a club.

Going out costs money! Credit cards get one into debt! Dedicating my time to some sort of financial management course and meditation would probably be much more sensible. But tomorrow and Thursday I already made plans with people to go shopping (ka-CHING!) and dancing. Well, thats okay. Afterall, once I'm in school again my social life will probably revert back to budget-friendly researching, writing, grading PAPERSPAPERS&MOREPAPERS and watching the occasional DVD.

posted by....an IN-SOM-NI-AC.........

Do I sound snotty about my cat? I love my cat. I call him "brat" affectionately.

Sardine Breath

My sister, the budding archeologist, has taken to eating sardines cause apparently, thats what they do on digs. She just gave my kitty cat the remnants of the sardine tin.

Great. I'm soooo happy that tonight, when he sleeps on my bed, he's gonna have SARDINE BREATH.

The small back room where my sister washes artifacts used to have an old man living in it, and they think its haunted.

We need to celebrate Max's birthday. If we do it for the dogs, we do it for the cat, I say. Especially because he's seventeen! This might be his last.

I HAVE A NEW HOBBY

I collect body exfoliating sugar scrub containers.

MRS. HANES MORAVIAN SUGAR COOKIES

will be featured on the Food Network's "Food Finds" on September 7th 2004. (Coincidentally, that's an ex-boyfriend's birthday, and two weeks before my birthday!) The show will air at 2 p.m. and I heartily approve. In honor of my Moravian ancestors, Grandmama's genes, PCOS, "the weak trembles," hypoglycemia, cavities and health insurance companies. From the bottom of my potentially insulin resistant little heart :-)

Can you make sad tango faces?
the man asked.
I'm good at pouting
she replied.

Gospel Chicken

Went to the "Gospel Chicken House" last night (an old chicken house converted to a venue in Montpelier, Virginia) and saw two groups play blue grass music and sing gospel songs acapella. I think a banjo can sound surprisingly like a sitar :-)

In the back of the Gospel Chicken House there was a bathroom, and while I was in there I eavesdropped on the conversation of several little girls. (One was also named "Alison.") One of these girls sounded like a bit of a bossy-older-sister type "Hey guys, let me show you something. See this last piece of toilet paper here? If you want to use it..." "We know, we know!" the other girls chorused, so I never got to hear the secret of How To Use The Last Piece of Toilet Paper.

They also told a joke:

"Say milk five times fast."
"Milk. Milk. Milk. Milk. Milk."
"What does a cow drink?"
"Milk."
"No. Water!"
~giggle~

It reminded me of the time I spent with my sister and two childhood best friends (sisters) who lived in upstate NY.

Before we went to the Gospel Chicken House, I met up with a friend from Richmond and we did a little exploring of the town of Fredericksburg. We met outside of a restaurant close to Fredericksburg and 95. I parked by a car with a NY plate, which said that they were from Patchogue. I waited to see if they'd come out before my friend came, since my uncle lives in that town, but they never did. The windows of their vehicle were rolled down and some stuffed animals inside were getting rained on.

Exit 130B at Fredericksburg/Culpepper has a nice Border's Bookstore that can make a convenient meeting spot between D.C. and Richmond - FYI, the Welcome Center is NOT accessible from both sides of 95!

Grouse

As I was merrily typing away, a George Mason professor on television talked to some students about melanoma. In the car's rearview mirror, I noticed (for about the third time in 2-3 days) what looks suspiciously like a new mole on my right cheekbone. That cheekbone was sunburned last week! I don't think my insurance covers trips to the dermatologist. Grrrrr.....

Walked home after being informed that there would be a bit of a wait for the oil change. I noticed a bunch of children sitting in a daycare center parking lot, and then two fire engines pulled up. Some firemen got out and went inside. No smoke, no one seemed to be hurt.

I hate going to the doctor. They always want to put you on these freaking medications that your insurance (if you're me) doesn't cover. (That never seems to apply to old men who need Viagra, though!) Why can't I just swallow a bottle of flower essences and be done with it.

Light Bright Day

was yesterday. I got my hair straightened for the first time, and wore a pale orange top and a floral print skirt with the fabric cut in lots of different shapes going every which way with a whole variety of colors in it-white, yellow, pale orange, pink, tan, brown. AND a little matching scarf. It is, indeed, the lightest, brightest outfit I have ever purchased.

After getting dressed/made up, we went into Giant to buy a camera and bumped into another friend's hot, exotic dancer sister. She had two guys with her, of course, and they were TOTALLY checking us out. We went to another friend's house. Since she was totally checking us out, I offered to pose with her. I also took a couple of pictures of my friend discussing the finer points of my appearance. We went to a very cool Middle Eastern restaurant called Neyla's in Georgetown, which has the best strained yogurt cheese I've ever tasted. I noticed that, even though the guy at the table next to us was on a date, he was TOTALLY checking us out.

For dessert, I ordered a pear poached in white wine, dipped in chocolate, drizzled with pistachio cream sauce and served with a scattering of berries. I said, "This is almost as good as the lemonade we had at the beach!" "Whoa..." (In Ocean City I order a fresh squeezed lemonade and told my friend how good it made me feel to drink it, sitting in the wind and the sun on the boardwalk, it gave me little sweet and sour chills, "this really makes you live in the moment," I told her. She said, "Maybe I should give you and your lemonade a little privacy!")

We left the cute waiter a splendid tip.

PINK

Ah summer. No job. Free day with nothing to do but what I choose.

My dance instructor friend is supposed to come over tonight. She wants to "make me over." Put some bright colors on me. (Inspired by a trip we took on Monday, to Ocean City.) Can you handle pink? she asks. I think I prefer melon or peach, actually. I have an infected bug bite which is very pink. My mom said I should take a Benadryl, cause the reason its so itchy is because of an allergic reaction and "histamines" and Benedryl is an antihistamine....

Highschool

At Theology on Tap, the speaker's topic was "Relationships." She said that some people have beer stein sized capacity for emotions, talking, feelings, etc. And some people have shot glass sized capacity. Then, some people have wine glass sized capacity. (But she says they're fooling themselves. She told us that she is a beer stein.) Not like I can relate to that at all (ha ha)...sometimes, I feel like asking, hey, excuse me, but did my beer pitcher full of ideas/emotions/whatever that I just dumped out overwhelm your empty shot glass? But of course, I'm probably a shot glass too (sometimes.)

The speaker also made a lot of references to highschool. "I realize you all aren't in highschool anymore but..."

Highschool memory:

I was with a small group of friends at Shoney's. A blindingly attractive young man sat across from me and sipped his coffee. We were all about 16 or 17. He told us about the first time he had sex (on a kitchen counter). I knew the girl; she was short, pretty, thin, stylish, large breasted, flirtatious. I met her on the first day of school; shortly thereafter, she told me that she was obsessed with death. She said that she was attracted to this guy, more than she was to her sort of boyfriend. Her sort of boyfriend visited her in the hospital after she O.D.ed and said "I try to keep telling you that you should love yourself, but you won't listen." The blindingly attractive guy felt bad because they broke the sink.

Maybe he wasn't all that blindingly attractive. I could be exaggerating, for effect.

The other day, some friends and I found some pictures of ourselves from freshman year of college. "Look how thin we were! You look amazing. Wow. I was hot! Isn't it funny how so and so looks so different from when we were in highschool? And so and so looks older, but almost exactly the same..."

The Flight Attendant's Refrain (a blatant rip off)

Uh huh?
Uh huh?

Club soda?
Uh huh?

Coffee?
Diet Coke?

Sure?
Sure?

SalsaSalsaSalsa!

On Wednesday, I went salsa dancing at Zanzibar's on the waterfront (in D.C.) with 2 female friends (one was/is a ballroom dance instructor and the other is a massage therapist). My massage therapist friend, who was wearing jeans, a skimpy purple top with a string tie in the back, and open toed shoes, was turned away at the door. ("No Jeans" rule). Solution: retrieve a pair of white taekwondo pants from the car, turn them inside out so to conceal the lettering on the sides, and tuck the waist band/draw string inside. Voila! Sans jeans, we had no pockets between the three of us. Since I was the only one wearing a brassiere, thats where our IDs and some of the money went. My friend used a hair tie and the draw string on her taekwondo pants to secure the car key and her money. (See how innovative we are? Sometimes we put those things in our shoes, too-not keys though-but you can't do that in open toed shoes.)

On Saturday I went out with a friend of the dance instructor. Very good dancer and a nice guy, but I think I'm comfortable with just being friends with him. However, I have someone in mind I'd like to introduce him to (A little matchmaking might be fun!) He's Catholic. This other friend of mine (Catholic) has another (Catholic) friend, and they invited me, (their non-Catholic friend) to go with them to something called "Theology on Tap" which is where you go to happy hour at a bar and then someone Catholic, (sometimes a priest, but sometimes not) gives a talk with a Q/A session afterwards. This girl is single and I think she's interested in meeting someone. She likes to dance formally as well (used to do some Irish dancing) and I just wonder if they might hit it off...

CATHOLICS

My mom converted to Catholicism when she was a young woman (baptized and confirmed) but she was never married by a priest and did not practice it very much when I was growing up. My religious upbringing was mostly influenced by my Grandma on my Dad's side of the family. (That would be Missouri Senate Lutheran.) However, as a child in upstate NY, I attended many religious services with my 2 best friends, who were Irish American/Catholic. My stepfather is Catholic, and my 2 best friends from Virginia are both Italian American Catholics (originally from Long Island). I got my first degree from a Jesuit University. I even almost married a Peruvian Catholic when I was 22! Really, if there were such a thing as an honorary Catholic, I'd be it, so you'd think I wouldn't forget whether my fingers are supposed to go to the left or right shoulder when I cross myself! There was that time when I was taking religious instruction and participated in a ceremony, but wasn't allowed to drink the grape juice with the other kids...maybe since then, all those rituals make me feel sort of like a nervous outsider...I wonder if I'll have cross myself at Theology on Tap? I should write a Gen-Xy editorial on the position of the outsider in a catholic culture...Is it right-left or left-right...

In Virginia my room is small, with blue walls and a half closet. When the blinds aren't drawn, there is a view of the neighbor's driveway with a basketball hoop. My parents (mother and stepfather) will be separating in the fall. Furniture will be removed, and the room will be repainted in case they decide to sell the house. But by then, I will be living in New York again. In my life, this has already happened before. I don't really know all the logistics, for example who will the pets live with? I'm not particularly apt to ask a lot of questions...

Yesterday, I went to the video store and found a comedy about a guy who falls for the cousin of his fiancee. "A Guy Thing." The clerk read the title aloud amusedly to himself, making me feel all squirmy inside. It is set in Seattle, and there are many shots of the Space Needle in it, and the movie features Julia Stiles, who was also in Seattle while making the movie "Ten Things I Hate About You." My friend Charity was an extra in that movie. Several years ago, she wrote an essay about her experience, and sent it to me. It is probably still in my desk or else shoved into a corner of the blue bedroom somewhere...

Long Beach Long Island Long Post!

I think I love FitLinxx. Too bad they don't have it at my school. Today, it said: you have lifted 15, 430 lbs. Really??? Are they lying to me? Hah! (Since I'm a beginner that looks pretty impressive to me) It felt good, because this weekend was the weekend of eating...

Impromptu Trip to Long Beach, Long Island

FRIDAY
After only 6 hours of driving (rumor has it that sometimes you can get there in close to 4), we pulled up to a tall, yellow stucco house with a stained glass window and multi-colored turret. We unloaded our stuff, then went out to a diner with my friend's grandparents, where I saw something called a "Mulberry Sandwich" on the menu and wondered why there weren't any mulberries in it. (I think I stumbled across the answer last night when I opened a guide book and discovered that "Mulberry St." runs through Little Italy). Oh, wait I have to stop writing this because there is a beagle nose nudging me reminding me its dinner time...OKAY OKAY OKAY...

So anyway, (dogs are fed) we went to the beach and took pictures of each other on the life guard stand, drank wine, got some icecream. Then we were about to go to bed, but my friend's cousin showed up, so two of us accompanied him to a place called The Mirage (in Westbury?) which my friend said was "full of Guidos and Goombas" (I guess she can say it since she's Italian American) On the dance floor, they unleashed confetti--little bits of foam that quickly melted after touching your hair.

SATURDAY--wake up, it's a gorgeous day, listen to the Atlantic ocean through the open bedroom windows (a new experience for me!) walk to a deli, order breakfast (something called a Tom Clancy Sandwich, which is a wrap with egg whites, turkey and swiss) then - off to the beach! It was pretty nice, though crowded. Unfortunately, the lifeguards pulled everyone out of the water in the mid-afternoon because there was too much trash in it...but we laid on a big sheet and read some books. I borrowed mine from my friend and forgot what it was called, but it was a book of prose and had a blurb on the back with Charles Simic endorsing it. It was a reddish pink color. Eventually my skin turned the color of the book cover...

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. We went to a yard sale before we went to the beach. Two female mannequin heads, halfway sunk into rectangular trimmed hedges, gazed eerily from the foliage, and although we bought nothing, my friends took several photos...

After applying liberal doses of aloe gel to our sunburns, we went out to "the club" in Rockville Center with my friend's grandparents. Raw oysters, stuffed squash blossoms, a glass of chardonnay, soft shell crabs, a few bites of gnocchi, a smoked tomato (oh my god did we ever stop eating??) And since I asked, my friend's grandfather told the story of the time he went for "a ride" with Lucky Luciano.

(When he was a kid, Lucky Luciano's girlfriend thought he was adorable. They took him to a bar - or a speakeasy since it was during Prohibition. At one point he was dancing on the counter top in front of the patrons. His mother had heard about what happened and went looking for him She found asleep in the back of a car!! She got him out and brought him home. The next day, when Lucky Luciano came around again, Mama gave him hell! "I'm sorry Mrs. Biscelgia, we didn't mean any harm, he wanted to come with us...")

Post gorge-fest, three girls with hot shoulders and full bellies squeezed into the back of the car and sang "Blue Moon" in honor of (what else) the blue moon. There was talk of going out and getting moon tattoos, but we were too sunburned. Instead, we went out for Italian ices and walked around to several bars (note: some of them don't let you in unless you're 23) I met some people who know of my school in Binghamton. ("Awww...you go there? My sister goes there. You live off campus? She lives near a bunch of crack houses. We tell her, good luck, don't get killed!" said one person, who, along with his friends - including a guy with a mysterious obsession with Nashville, Tennessee - had just gotten kicked out of a bar.)

Just around the corner from the yellow stucco house is a bar called "Shines," which my friend's grandparents used to go to 50 years ago. It was decorated with a lot of old "No Irish Allowed" signs. The people in this bar were very friendly, but when I told a guy that I also went to school (as an undergrad) in Seattle, he said "New York to Seattle? You went from culture to no culture! Good thing the rain didn't kill you!" (Uh...actually I do think Seattle has some culture! I thought.) I ordered a L. I. iced tea but it was too strong, so then I just had a bourbon and ginger. As the evening wore on, I noticed that my friends were reverting back to their childhood accents!

SUNDAY raining morning, we walked across the street and went to Mass. I'm not Catholic, but I I tried to genuflect and cross myself at appropriate times...went back to the same diner for lox and bagels (this seemed so "New York"), bought cannoli at a bakery, and drove through a dairy barn (a drive through convenience store). By the time we left it was 2 p.m. After a few minor screaming incidents, we were out of NY and on the Jersey Turnpike, but because of traffic (and yes, because I had to pee) we pulled off so we could stop and get some pizza. There I tested one of my friends theories (she said that if I ate food with a lot of sodium we wouldn't have to stop to go to the bathroom so much. Hah! Actually it kind of worked, but I also didn't drink any caffeine and barely any water. I was thirsty.)

Once more, I scrunched myself into the backseat of her little black and white Mini Cooper, next to most of our stuff, and we were on our way back to the Turnpike. We found it, eventually, but unfortunately, it turned out to be the Penna Turnpike. So, we took a nice scenic route through Philly and hit more traffic on 95...a mere 8 hours after leaving Long Beach, we finally made it back to Springfield. (Moral of story: it pays to leave early). "Hello my beautiful car," I said, as I shoved my bags into the roomy, dented 95 Taurus, adorned with 2 Mary Prankster stickers, a blue mirror that doesn't match the grayish-gold paint on the rest of the body, and a "Simplify, Simplify" bumper sticker...

Overall the trip was a great success. And the food was great. But, the tolls aren't cheap!!

Maybe "Y" stands for "Yahweh" ;-)

(see Sesame St. post)

I want a fried stuffed squash blossom.

My friend told just me about this Irish Catholic faith healer staying with her mom's friend. He is called the Seventh Son of the Seventh Son because there were no girls born for 7 sons for his father, and then he was also the 7th son of his father with no girls born in between. Why is THAT so remarkable? I wonder...

Sesame St.

As Nora Jones sat at a piano waiting for her friend, Letter Y, to show up, she became rather sad and sang "I don't know why Y didn't come..."

Elmo asked "What's wrong?" Nora Jones was like, "Me and my friend Y used to always have a great time and sing songs together, and he was supposed to meet me today, but I guess he forgot. Oh well, I guess Y doesn't want to be friends anymore" But Elmo said: "no look, Y's here!" And Y was waving his arms behind her.

My friend told us about this as we drove back to Virginia from Long Island. I said "That is so cute." Sigh....

Hoy Dia...

Its raining in Virginia and I still have no summer job :-) For the great dane's 5th birthday, my mother is making tomato sauce with hot peppers, spaghetti, gnocchi (which I don't remember her ever making before--actually its premade, she said she got it at the commissary) and a pineapple upside cake. I just called one of my friends to tell her, because we (me and two friends) just got back from visiting her grandparents on Long Beach, LONG ISLAND, NY, where we all got sunburnt, and they served gnocchi at the club which her grandparents belong to.

It is okay to end sentences with prepositions in a blog, that I know of.

 
Give me an R.
Give me an O.
Give me an E.
Give me an S.
Give me a K.
Give me an E.

NOW PRONOUNCE IT CORRECTLY!!

I hear that the name Roeske used to have an "umlaut" (sp?) over the o but no e after it.  I say it like "Ray-ski" and so does my entire family but when I was in the Netherlands a few years ago, people told me I was pronouncing it incorrectly (we probably are, who knows?)  When I type my name into a search engine, it brings up what appears to be an article about women's roles in movies, but it was actually taken from a mass e-mail I sent to some friends a few years ago. 

Other folks who have this last name include:

missionaries in the Philippines
actors and actresses (Roeskes have appeared on "ER" and "Saved By The Bell")
a stunt woman
artists
professors (of Medicine and Geology and Religion)

and the coolest Roeskes, I think, are:
bodyworkers :-)
and 
Paulette Roeske, a poet

but the others are pretty cool, too.

New

Oh my goodness gracious. So this is what its like trying to type up something order to post things into a blog.  At least I can edit and change things after I post them, right? :-D

Since rumor has it that one of my grad school friends/partners in crime from last semester has begun a blog, I must keep up. (This is the same girl who also inspired me to buy a pair of running shoes...way to go Sarah!)

 
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