the color brown

i have an interesting relationship with brown.

i like brown clothes. brown shoes. brown belts, and handbags, and headbands, and clips. i really do like brown when it comes in wood tones. i like pretty brown nail polishes. brown's just a nice color sometimes.

i hate brown upholstry. brown carpet. brown courtains, and chairs, and trim, and houses, and cars. i include beige in this category. i hate beige. brown's just plain ugly sometimes.

today is Brown Day. here in dirt town, the dirt has risen, and has been blowing about at an average speed of about 30 or so miles per hour. the sky is brown. cars are brown. people are brown. the water from a shower is brown as it washes off the sky. the window sills are brown. everything's brown.

you go out to check your mail, you come back inside, you brush the brown out of your teeth.

i signed up for grad school here, but not for chocolate milk skies. and it's only supposed to get murkier into the night. i'll be browned in tomorrow.

yuck.

here kitty, kitty

festus has this separation anxiety when i'm home in the afternoons. [in the mornings, he doesn't care about anything but food.] if i'm in the kitchen, so is he, usually pawing my leg and whining. if i'm in the living room, he's there as well, sprawled out nearby if he isn't allowed to curl up on me. if i'm in the office, he's either in the chair behind me [i switch office chairs to suit my back] or curled up in a box lid. ditto for everywhere else.

what i find amusing about it is that he'll follow me around. i've heard dogs do this. but if i move from my desk to the bathroom [barely out of sight] he'll flop himself down on the threshold of the bathroom and wait. when i return, he returns. if i move around at all, he'll follow me, no matter how short a duration the move.

just a bit ago, i stretched out on the floor for a little ceiling stare [helps creative juices flow]. festus emerged from his box lid, padded a whole three feet, and curled up on my shoulder. not in the crook of my arm or neck, but on the shoulder. i find it endearing, though waking at 3 am to a mouth full of cat tail is decided not cute.

we'd been there on the floor a whole minute when charlotte demonstrated her own supercat abilities. she only follows me around in the mornings as i get ready. in the afternoons, she ignores me. but whenever i lay down, wherever i lay down, she will come lay down on top of me. she has done this as long as i've known her. her timing is flawless.

so within a minute of stretching out, festus and charlotte had settled on my shoulder and across my thighs. charlotte tends to prefer my legs. festus wants to paw my face for attention, and selects perches within easy reach.

i get up from my stretch, and what happens? festus goes to his box, and charlotte saunters out of the room. if i were a scientist, i'd stretch out again with a stopwatch.


curious note:

when i enter my bedroom, i see charlotte curled on the bed. always. the very first day after i'd slept on the floor beside my bed, i came in to find her curled up on the floor exactly where she'd have been if that blanket had been the bed. for the four nights on the floor, i never once saw her curled on the bed. the night i returned to the bed was followed by her curling up on the bed. i have witnessed the same thing happen with the futon when the semester gets too busy to risk sleeping too long on a bed. bizarre.


and now, back to faux lesson planning.

love and peace

so far

i got my old english midterm back today. at the 'end' of class. while class officially gets out at 1:50, we have never left the room before 2:00. most days, we're released a few minutes after that, even. this is pretty neat, in the cost-per-hour perspective, and i do enjoy the lectures. but all this is tempered by the knowledge that there's a bus running to my car at 2:00. and the next bus to my car is at 2:40. this is especially vexing on a friday when class lets out at 2:20.

so, the first thing this professor tells us about the midterm is that there was a shocking lack of success. that in fact, a curve was strongly considered, but ruined by the two people with the "bad taste" to do quite well. professor's quote there. for the rest of us, at least the numbers have been changed around. where before we could rewrite for a 70, now we may rewrite for an 80.

this does not help me. apparently, i did not need the help. i got an 82. i am profoundly thankful for this, and amazed by my repeated ability to somehow outdo myself. this is not to say that my predictions were entirely incorrect. i bombed the adjective in a very big way. i screwed up my weak verb in all the ways i thought i had and would. hell, i even missed a conjugation of the strong verb. but the guessing on the sound changes and umlauts? recall that i thought afterwards my guessing had been inspired. and yes, yes it was. almost all of my pitiful guesses were right or right enough for half credit. methinks the prof graded mine with the notion that the whole class had failed and needed to be treated gently.

still, i will be drilling every week to either keep my studied for prowess [much laughter] or to get the prowess that i lack [so much more realistic]. i'm happy and pleased about the midterm's outcome, and it's kind of rare for me to be pleased with a B-.

****

i thought the english department here was on a schedule perfect for the lent thing. there was a book fair [i love those] with catered jason's deli on tuesday. i mean, hell yeah. those lovely brownies, some baklava, tons of little croissant sandwiches, jordan almonds, even the chips and pickles are somehow better when catered. i love this stuff. and i partook, because it was tuesday. what great timing! just before i have to give it all up.

then, on wednesday, the book people were back for breakfast. normally this is a good thing. there's bagels. doughnuts. cookies. pastries. scones. little cakes and muffins. it was actually quite sad. i had an inordinate amount of fresh pineapple, some strawberries, a large cluster of grapes, and the lonely slice of kiwi. somehow, all that tasty fruit was lacking. i usually get fruit and sometimes a pastry of some kind when there's a breakfast layout. [except when this one lady makes these little smokey biscuit wraps, and then i personify gluttony.] i enjoy the fruit more than the pastry, but the knowledge that i *had* to forego the pastry made it somehow worse than if i had simply opted for fruit. really. i love fruit. i'd have been thrilled by a breakfast of fruit. and i feel like a bad, ungrateful person for eyeing the coffee cake and not properly enjoying the fruit. there was nothing wrong with the fruit. it was excellent. why was i so saddened by the lack of a pastry when i actually *prefer* fruit?

then, on thursday, there was more food. it may have been only a bag of chips left in the faculty lounge for random foraging grad students. but it was still food. still free. and still sad. i almost never eat potato chips. i have purchased them twice in my three or so years here. but i do make it a point to eat some when they are served at the english building or when i go home. thursday, however, there were no chips to be had.

today, a conference started up. those things are *well* stocked in our neighborhood. you wouldn't believe. there's very nice catered lunch [not deli food, though that's very nice also], and very nice breakfasts. very nice leftovers in the lounge so even if you aren't part of the goings on, you're part of the clean up crew. there were tons of very nice-looking chocolate chip cookies on the lounge table. they looked like the hard kind that don't make me all squidgy. [i hate soft store-bought cookies. they make me sick. i think it's the high plastic content.] i did not eat a cookie.

today's catered lunch was rosa's. in a way, this was good. the fajitas at rosa's are minimally processed. there's the tortilla, which i really can't in good conscience eat during lent. the sauces etc i wouldn't eat anyway. refried beans are pretty much just beans and beans. maybe some lard in there. i'm not an expert on the ingredients for those in restaurants. the rice, sadly, strikes me as a processed food. but the meat is just meat. you know? beef and chicken, almost certainly marinated, and then grilled up. that's good to go, right?

well, even if it isn't, i ate some. i had four strips of beef and a piece of chicken. beans. lettuce. and yes, about a cup of the rice. i really hope all that isn't terribly processed. either way, the spirit of things says i screwed up. i operated on a guess and a wish, and against better judge guess-ment on the rice. while i managed to deny myself a tortilla, i really don't feel all that self-congratulatory. i mean, let's be honest.

the meat was likely speed-marinated, frozen, and shipped. in most parlance, that is processed. i didn't cook it myself, so i don't know what went into it.

the rice started out white. that means bleached. that's a process. then, the rice was cooked with whatever goodness rosa's uses to transform it into the rice i love the most. if the rice from rosa's isn't processed, then neither is instant oatmeal. and we all know that instant oatmeal isn't really oatmeal at all.

the beans are probably most-to-all bean. they don't have all the spices and flavorings that canned refried beans have, and they taste very pinto-y. still, i have no idea how they're made, aside from the mashing of actual beans.

it was a processed meal, except perhaps for the shredded lettuce. and *maybe* the beans.

so what does this failure mean for me? especially coming so soon in the endeavor? i'm not really sure. i'm not going to give up on the basis of a single cave-in. that would be silly. if smokers who tried to quit did that no one would ever quit. ditto with every other habit known to me. but do i need to do some thinking on this? yes. i believe that there is a thought process going on in deep within the undercurrents of my brain that this little encountered has pointed out to me.

why would i eat the rosa's food when i have a perfectly good lunch packed from home and lovingly made? on a normal day, i would do this because of the lure of free food and the knowledge that i no longer have to worry about dinner when i get home. but now? the lent thing really should have cancelled out the free food thing. do i see free food as a scarce commodity to be consumed whenever it is seen? do i feel that if i forego the rosa's this time, it will never reappear? i wasn't hungry until i saw the rosa's. there were still about two hours until i would normally eat my lunch. i just ate the rosa's because it was there.

perhaps, after all this rambling, the one thing this means for me is that i need to not go to campus tomorrow for any reason, thereby avoiding the continuation of the conference and the offering of more free [and utterly superfluous] food. the avoidance of free food runs counter to my very being. but the desire to stay home and not drive helps a lot.

in short: i succumbed to the lure of free and processed food. i ate it. i'd love to say i didn't mean to, but i did very much mean to.

and: with the knowledge of this lure brought to the front burner of the creaky oven of my brain, i hope to be better equipped to resist the free food in the future.

except for fruit, which is not processed.

love and peace

i think recruitment weekend takes place during lent. heaven help me then.

the last fling

so. after midnight, no processed stuff. no man-made stuff. none of that 'it came from the black lagoonchemistry lab' stuff.

no bread, from the ingredients i read off. no enlgish muffins, no matter how whole wheat [there's an ingredient in there to keep them from turning to slime on the store shelves, so that counts as no-go]. no nutrigrain bars, though i've got a ton of them. i've also got a bag of frozen beef raviolis. there's not part of that with origins closer to real than five times removed. so, it'll stay in the freezer.

no cadbury creme eggs.

that last one hurts the most, i think. that isn't to say chocolate is out. i can have the hot chocolate i make on occassion, since i'm pretty sure it's just ground up cocoa. i'm afraid to look at that label. packaged chocolate is off the list, and flavored and and and... but the plain old, unsweetened cocoa... i'm leaving it on.

meat in its original state [meaning not added to or ground up into slices of lunch food] is cool. since the only way i'll get 100% unprocessed meat is to start raising animals in my apt for slaughter, i'm going to say whatever packing juice is fine. veggies are similar. freezing is a process, but a necessary one with my once-in-a-month shopping style. this means frozen veggies are okay.

but no cadbury creme eggs.

in fact, i won't even buy them, because it would be worse to have them around and not be able to eat them than to just not have them around. nevermind that i stockpile the things like there's no tomorrow, and then have them around until usually october or november. it is likely best they not become a part of my pantry. they will be more special for it.

i'm not sure where i stand on cheese. i know my yogurt will be off the list, because it's got artificial sweeteners. but cheese? i guess i'll have to check labels. it will be a good exercise. anything called cheese food is out, but what about plain old cheddar? string cheese bad, mozzarella good? who knows.

it's a good thing i have a lot of frozen cranberries, because my store bought jams and jellies are processed. i'll have to make a big pot of jam and hope it lasts a month. given the processed nature of my bread, however, i'm not sure what i'd put the jam on. or the peanut butter.

well, carrot sticks. i could make some chickpea humus stuff maybe. peanut butter might be good on carrots. [please, readers, do not suggest celery. i detest celery. it is bitter, stringy, and leaves a bad taste in the mouth to match the queazy, working-too-hard stomach] perhaps peanut butter goes on bell pepper, or, or, or something. maybe peanut butter isn't a necessity. [and my brand has two ingredients: peanuts and salt]

but the purpose of this post is to mention in passing [stop laughing at my verbosity] that i'm eating at rosa's tonight. sort of the last processed meal for a while. number four, baby. number four. no thought required.

love and peace

lent

i've been debating for a while now on lent this year.

a] no processed foods, where 'processed' means there's an ingredient i can't pronounce. or couldn't pick out of a lineup. or that isn't actually real. yeah.

b] no bleached, milled, etc. flour, of any kind, in any product; all whole wheat or nothing.

c] add at least one row of the stole every day.

d] all of the above.

certainly, b is sort of involved in a. and c would be beneficial to the wrist and a great way to alot time.

if any of the above habits became ... truly habitual in any way, i would be a healthier person [physically and mentally].

i'm leaning toward e] a and c. b is kind of a cop out version of a. and i think a would be challenging.

so if i do end up coming home, oh parental unit, meals would be interesting.

love and peace

weather and sundry

around here, lately, the weather has been off. sort of a back and forth, weatherman-couldn't-tell-you kind of off. i don't think even they know what's up.

and speaking of weather, we've had an absolutely lovely day here, nearly 70 in the morning, a little over 70 in the afternoon, and sun, sun, sun. also wind, wind, wind. but that's just how it is.

those weather folks can't quite tell us what's coming down the pipeline, and neither can i. i sure went into that midterm expecting both hell and high water. a sort of never-ending mudslide of unanswerable questions ending in a ring so cold the mud would freeze me into the ground.

there were four pages, 100 points, 50 minutes.

i thought there would be more paradigms. i looked up my answers to the paradigms there were, and found i was right about half of the time. i'm pretty sure i nailed the strong verb conjugation. a shock, but a good one. i mangled the predictable parts of the weak verb. not so much a shock, that.

the noun... let's not talk about the noun. the unthinkable occured there, and not the kind you smile about not thinking.

the entirety of page 2 was identification of verbs based on ublaut series (given: the infinitive. please give: the umlaut, and all the rest of the principle parts.) and naming of specific sound changes and an explanation of why that/those change(s) happened.

much of page three was similarly arranged. there were questions where the professor would point out that the answer to a different question would give you a hint to the current question (and if you got that other question wrong, not only did you lose the hint, but maybe, just maybe, a false hint trashed this answer too).

the translation section was about six lines long. i translate this language at a rate of appx 12 lines an hour. you do that math. i made up the last sentence based on the context.

at the same time, my guesses were profound. inspired. almost preternaturally un-guess-like. we're not talking "the answer's always C," we're talking "it must be palatal dipthongization because of the dot over the 'g'." for all i know, i did well on the sound change section. they were guesses, after all. but good-feeling ones.

at this point, i couldn't recall any questions specifically enough to look up the answers. so i will honestly be in the dark on this until the grades come out. but while i'm still clinging to the mantra from last post, i do have some hope that it isn't that bad.

***

this weekend, my wrist started wonking out. it was stress, i'm sure. i haven't been sitting in the blue chair, i've not spent more than seven hours total in my office or in any chair like the one in my office. i haven't had to lift the cat food from the fridge, though the convenient mini-jar is nearing the bottom. i haven't slept much at all, let alone wrongly. the only thing that's the same as the other times is that i've been stressed. pointed stress, not the long treadmill of grad school. and i've not had much time for knitting.

my solution is twofold.

1] i will set aside the washcloth i'd been carting around and pick up the afghan. it's bigger, but the needles are larger, the yarn is softer, the gauge is looser, and the strain will be negligable on the wrist while still moving it.

2] back to the damn brace. i'd noticed a long while back that the brace did not actually help as much as it should. that my wrist stiffened up too much and ended up hurting more. so movement is absolutely necessary, if not exactly fun. but the brace will prevent those moments of "shitfuck!" when i forget in stillness that the thing doesn't bend as it should without pain. [case in point: today on the drive home i had a hard time turning onto brownfield and nearly slammed into an orange 'thou shalt not drive thine car here' pillar. so driving = brace.]

i haven't been able to think up the right ratio of brace to not brace, though. class notes, knitting, typing are easier without the brace. and without a shift key, typing isn't *that* much of a problem. but lifting schoolbags, driving, playing with cats etc. will need the brace for now.

sleeping is the real grey area. on the one hand, my wrist kills me in the mornings when i've had the brace on overnight. it needs extra warming up and is weaker for a few hours. the hot shower helps. on the other hand, there have been times when i've woken up from a bad wrist angle i'd drifted into at night. those should be avoided and the brace would help with that.

oh well.

stomach's still a bit off, so it may be residual stress, or it may be gumbo. i hope it isn't gumbo, because it tastes good and i have a lot of it.

well, MOO class just got out, so now there's reading for tomorrow morning's class, and then bed. better get to it.

love and peace

more predictions

after 5 hours of sleep and another round of weak/strong adjectives and nouns, i feel a little better.

it's not all that bad. not really. if i utterly fail this, i can correct all the wrong answers and turn it in for a 70. 70% is better than 37%.

i can't get lower than a base-line C on this, one way or the other.

the thought comforts me.

because while:

-i think i've got the strong verb conjugations down (i haven't missed one on the self-quiz in a long while)

-i can usually manage the weak verbs (except the preterit indicative 2nd person singular and imperative singular, which stump me from time to time)

-i can still remember all eleven or so of my articles

-i can usually decline the basic strong nouns

-i can always decline the basic weak nouns
...

there are still the issues of

-adjectives that i can't seem to remember (weak or strong)

-third person pronouns that won't stick in my head

-vowel changes that come in a certain order and only affect certain letters in certain situations, none of which i can recall to save my life (though the names are cool: gemination, palative dipthongization, syncopation, and breaking are the coolest; a-mutation, verner's law, loss of intermedial h, and i/j umlaut come in a close second; various arrangements of letters are dead last (i > e, etc.))

-the umlaut series of classes 2, 3(a-e), 4, 5, and 6 strong verbs that escape me now and forever (i've got classes 1 and 7: strong i, strong a, weak i, weak i; and something that matches the last one, something that matchest the next one, something that matches the previous one, something that matches the first one... like a sandwich with bread, meat, meat, and bread, though the bread may be rye, or wheat, or white, and the meat chicken, turkey, beef, or what have you, so long as the first and last match, the middle two matching likewise...)

-the umlaut series of classes 1(a-b), 2, and 3 weak verbs ( or all of them, you might say), because they're all different based on the sound changes and stuff from above

-various oddities and misfits that were tossed my way last week and which bounced off without leaving the slightest of impressions
...

so i figure i know enough to get partial credit on some stuff, and full credit on other stuff, and no credit on still other stuff. the noun thing planned is such: a noun is correctly declined, along with its correctly declined adjective, and the correctly declined article, if an article is present. each box is one point. each box contains noun & adjective & article. so, anything goes wrong, the whole point is lost.

this is why my articles won't save me. neither will my nouns, if i even remember them. my adjectives, however, are guaranteed to pull me down! isn't that nice? ah, stability...

but though i'm literally sick to my stomach over this midterm (or maybe the gumbo i made yesterday, though i hope not), i can at least put on a cheerful grimace and slog my way through the questions.

i can also repeat this mantra:

the lowest i can get is a 70, and it's only 15% of the final grade. the lowest i can get is a 70, and it's only 15% of the final grade. the lowest.....

midterm

failure is imminent.

i just quizzed myself on all the crap i'm supposed to know. out of 100, i'm looking at 37. correct, that is. 37 right answers. that's a 37%. that's an F.

i doubt articles will help me this time. there are a LOT of verbs i have to know.

sigh.

three cheers for d*ll

two summers ago, or around then anyway, my laptop gave out. the screen grew dimmer and dimmer, the battery wouldn't hold a charge, the charger wouldn't light up, and the "universal" charger i bought to replace it was an ill fit [thereby making it not universal after all]. i finally gave up on it. i bought a d*ll.

this new computer has been quite nice. i've only had one major problem with it that can be attributed solely to the computer itself. there have been several problems with my internet provider [don't tell sbc about it, or they'll come by my apt to woo me], but that was switch-flipping on their part. the computer has been good to me. the mouse and keyboard also, quite lovely. the speakers wig out on occassion, but they are cheapo, came-with-the-system speakers that i never expected much from in the first place. and even they work well enough most of the time.

before i bought the d*ll, i had a printer. this printer was a lexmarkz32, and it had followed me from my undergraduate years to my graduate years. its cartridges were expensive, but then, most ink cartridges are. i learned to have two at a time: one in the printer, and a spare. i'd buy a new spare whenever i had to switch them out. always two, there were, a master and an apprentice.

there was nothing wrong with this printer. it was not terribly slow, or even kind of slow. it did not print in streaks, it did not crumple pages. it had had about three paper jams in its long, long life.

the d*ll came with a new printer. there was no box to check that said "keep your printer, i'm happy here." like the mouse, keyboard, and speakers, the printer was a part of the package.

i planned to hand the new printer, box unopened, to AMS, who was in need of a printer. she was understandably upset at the thought of taking a new printer when the old one would suffice. i guess i understood. i mean, i did unhook the old printer and hand it off. i did put the new printer in its place. i even installed it using the cd.

that first week, i saw the insidiousness of d*ll and the printer they [d*ll, not AMS] had tricked me into accepting. the printer came with an ink cartridge -- trial size. the sort that run dry after printing off a batch of stories for a workshop, or that last through the first battery of papers due in a semester, but then sputter out to grey.

i shrugged, and planned to stop by the printing section of walmart next time i was in the area. and there, dear readers, is the true evil of the printer from d*ll.

a person cannot purchase a d*ll cartridge in walmart. not in office max, or office depot, or compusa. one must purchase an "authentic" cartridge from d*ll itself. one must log into the d*llish website and slog through offers of many cartridges at a [marginally] cheaper price. when one finally discovers the cartridges one wants, one must click through screen after screen to select these cartridges. one is offered a d*ll credit card [i do not know what kinds of idiots would want this... if one of my readers fits into this category, please comment and let me know that you are not an idiot]. one is asked to verify credit card information. one loses the discount and more in steep shipping and handling charges. one must be sitting at one's doorstep for the delivery truck, lest one's neighbors walk by and abduct one's clearly marked and lonely ink cartridges.

the printer from d*ll closely monitors ink levels. when there are still hundreds of pages left, the printer begins to send pop ups to the screen, alerting the user that it is time once more, to visit the friendly folks at d*ll, nevermind whether you have a spare about. when printing from word, any print settings one sets must be re-set in the d*ll print menu, or else be lost forever.

this printer is no more efficient at its job. it's just more irritating and in-your-face about doing that job. it doesn't let you forget that it's a printer, and that it came straight out of d*ll.

recently [read: tonight], i discovered another reason to harbor deep feelings of resentment and whatnot toward this printer.

this printer, unlike the old one, does not print envelopes. oh, don't get me wrong. there's a sliding tab for adjusting the paper size to that of an envelope. there's a tiny embossed picture on the paper tray describing the proper placement of an envelope. but when these are all proper, the envelope prints out blank. no matter what i do. so much for SASEs. the other printer could print out those large envelopes for mailing flat packets of paper. this printer's mouth is too narrow to fit them in. so much for fancy envelopes that look nice to editors.

so thank you, d*ll, for your POS printer and its demanding, whiny pop ups. when the ink is gone from my latest journey to d*ll and back, i'll be exchanging for whatever lexmark is around. i've finally had it with you.

the more things change...

quite a while ago, i posted something i shouldn't have about a professor. the post was filled with spiteful vitriol, and included some foul language. no, no, don't bother combing through the archives for the salacious tidbit. it was purged very shortly after it was published. if you missed it, you missed it.

i'd like to think i'm a better person now than i was at the time. that i've grown beyond petty nonsense of that nature. in some ways this is true. i've not got the slightest desire to name this individual, or to prove to the world that this individual is an unsavory type. in fact, i can now move beyond my continuing lack of affection for [yeah, i've even gotten beyond active "dislike"] this individual to recognize that truly, this individual is very good at what s/he does for a living. s/he is inspired and a worthwhile human being. i hold no active ill will toward this individual, though i'll admit to not seeking out this individual's company or presence.

and yet the adage that serves as this post's title is applicable here, both for myself, and for this individual.

in class, this individual was something of a guest lecturer. the packet of prepared materials this individual supplied was quite nice, and very worthwhile. i enjoyed the selection. while walking our class through certain things, this individual employed some of the methods that had ... irritated me in past. and though i bear only the slightest of grudges against this individual, i got stuck. i drifted out of the stream of dialogue and ended up writing furiously to capture all the nuances of what this individual had said, and why this individual was wrong. i mentally railed against the idea that this individual would go on to perpetuate such blatantly incorrect information.

it was a moment of weakness. it passed. i did not object in class to the incorrect history of the genitive case, nor did i remain out of the lecture when my note-taking was complete. i acknowledged that this individual had been taught by another individual somewhere along the line, and that no one was likely to be seriously harmed by not knowing the truth about the genitive case. i mean, most people in america don't know that there is such a case, or what this kind of case is anyway. they probably think "dirty" thoughts when they see or hear the word genitive. no harm, no foul.

still, i cannot help but notice that, politeness aside, i feel the need to post this entry. anonymity aside, you're reading about this individual's very slight mess up. so yeah. i'm not bitter and vindictive and gleefully posting hateful words against this individual. but i am matter-of-factly posting about this. i see this as an indication of how far i have yet to go. with this individual, and with others. a long way to go indeed.

love and peace [and continual improvement]

happy [insert holiday name here]

for some people, today is valentine's day, when they are expected to gift their sweetie with something:
men: flowers [roses are a safe cliche], candy [chocolate by default], trashy lingere, etc.
women: i have no idea what's expected here, except that she put out.

for others, today is valentine's day, when they plan some time to be with their sweetie and bask in the simple pleasures of time together.

for still others, today is single's awareness day, when they are expected to mope and sob, hate all happy couples, and tour the "holiday aisle" at their local grocer for the ingredients to a depressed and bitter binge.

for yet others still, today is single's awareness day, when they recognize that a holiday represented by the media as honoring attachedness singles out those unattached and guilts them into a desperate search for "the one" with whom they can play out their duty to society.

and these are just four of the myriad combinations of reactions available to the one day out of the year dedicated to [depending on who you ask] couples, guilt trips, consumerism, or what have you.

you'll notice i left love off the list there. i do not believe that february 14th, whatever you happen to call it, actually celebrates love anymore. i think love got lost in the mix as jesus gets lost in the christmas mix year after year. yes, people profess to spend the day, or at least a romantic dinner, with their sweetie out of love. they are not; they're fooling themselves. they can have that romantic dinner or that peaceful evening in or whatever any of 364 days a year and celebrate their love. on this particular day of the year, love is on a pedastal so high it's forgetten in the clouds of candy hearts and red hot monkey sex.

it is safer to put love on this pedastal, to keep it beyond arm's reach. if people were trapped by the media into actually thinking about love today, they would be frightened. when we look deep within ourselves and pull up all we know about love, and then pair it with all we do about love, we are woefully inadequate. it is easier to transmute love into something else, to skim its surface and spend a day wallowing in affection.

affection is not love. attraction is not love. sex is not love. passion is not love. what is love? i'll join the masses in [over]quoting paul today, because he really does say it quite well:

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. 1 corinthians 13: 4-8a, ESV

forever means not just today. forever means always.

most people react to this verse by smiling and adding another inch to the pedastal that lifts love up to a safe distance. people remember a moment when they had that love thing nailed, they were spot on, they did all the right things... people read this passage to get the warm tinglies, the fuzzy, squishy gush that makes the world seem right. people read it for comfort, and to comfort themselves with a nice pat on the back.

and yeah, sometimes that's the way to read it. but the harder reading, the painful reading is more beneficial. this is an example of love, folks. this is the "way it oughta be."

this is what we're incapable of.

our only "duty to society" is not to go out and buy up high priced chocolates, nor to send each other bitter cards full of single comisseration, nor to pair up and procreate, however fun and enlightening a hobby it may be. if we have a duty to society that will actually improve society, it is not any of these things. we need to look at the example set forth, see just how incapable we are, and seek to improve by god's grace.

it's easy to reflect on our own radiance, to relive those moments we are proud of, where got it right. and such self-affirmation is necessary to maintain a healthy self-image and not descend into the pits of self-recrimination and despair. but to focus solely on those highlights isn't really helpful for anyone, least of all ourselves. the student of life who dwells on the positive to the exclusion of the negative will not be able to improve on the negative--s/he doesn't see it!

so if you're a couple, look back today on those times when you haven't been patient or kind, when you've envied or boasted, when you've been arrogant and rude, when you've nagged insistantly, been irritable and resentful, when you've taken pleasure in evil (no matter how "tame"). remember when you've given up, when you haven't believed in something or someone, when you've lost hope or given it away or thrown it away as useless baggage, when you've turned your back on something or someone that was just too hard to deal with. your love ends. your love is not perfect.

and if you aren't a couple, do the same thing. you're not excused on the basis of being independant, because you aren't independant. you don't have a sweetie at the moment? look at your family. look at your friends. look at your coworkers and the people you see in the grocery store, the post office, the bank, the car in front of you on the street or highway who just possibly cut you off. be honest. what's your love like?


so, february 14th. national day of love avoidance, of love overlooking. of love substitution. can we change that? probably not on any large scale. given media power, probably not ever on any large scale. but locally? in your heart? yeah. let's try it.

love and peace

inspiration

i was responding to a webct assignment just now, about anthologies and who/what got included. i'd remarked upon the [to me] lamentable inclusion of "young goodman brown" and wondered why "rappaccini's daughter" was left out in the cold so often. and you know, i just had to go look up the text and read it, for old time's sake. i loved that story.

on reading it again, i feel the need to own up to some stuff.

first off, thanks to the good doctor at cua for introducing me to the story. this single act was the start of many characters, a small handful of infectious magical diseases, among other things. only after a refresher could i see just how indebted i am to the good doctor for that american lit course. wow.

next, thanks to the very dead nathaniel hawthorne who wrote the story. cheers, man, it's a good one. i'm guessing you readers can find the full text in a google search. it's a quick read, and well worth the time. hawthorne's works have had a great deal of influence on my fantasy. the supernatural elements mixed so surreally into the concrete "real" world is something he does very well, and that i try to emmulate, though not previously with any kind of consciousness.

it's kind of odd. i hated house of the seven gables, and was only passingly fond of scarlet letter. goodman brown, as you might have guessed from my grumbling above, never passed muster in my book. but the other stories, yeah. that's some good stuff. makes you shiver.

so go out and read some hawthorne. his mad scientists are the epitome for me. and that poison garden, with the toxic girl... such an impact. really. no matter how much hard fact i read when it comes to poisons, elixirs, toxins of all kinds, viruses, blood, tissue, diseases... no matter how many biology textbooks i read cover to cover, or botany books i devour on the weekends, or anatomy books i keep close beside myself... my understanding of this stuff leans heavily toward the concept of poisons (and diseases of the blood) accumulating in the body in a kind of symbiotic relationship, killing others, but leaving the poisoned being unharmed.

one might say that hawthorne's writing has haunted my research, but in a good way.

thanks, buddy. i owe you.

love and peace [go read rappaccini's daughter!]

unintentional experiments

certain people who have shared a dorm with me in the past will know exactly what the title refers to without having to read any further. others of you will have no idea, and just might be put off your appetite by reading further. you've been warned.

a while back, i cooked some nice chicken. i stored the meat of the chicken in meal-sized gladware, and ate it for a few days until it ran out.

today, i unearthed the non-meat remains of that chicken sitting in its pot on a back burner, covered in the large potholder i'd used to lift the pot's lid.

i blame this on the potholder, really, since it disguised the pot and hid the budding experiment from my view. nevermind that the pot itself was always there in plain sight.

so. i lifted the potholder, and was amazed. mold is a truly beautiful thing that many cannot appreciate. the intricate strands of it, forming a fluffy pillow of dense grey wool.... there was the tiniest bit of moisture i could see through the glass lid. like dew on grass, if the grass were little dark-headed sprouts of mold. i was intrigued, but a bit afraid of the consequences of lifting the lid to that fungoid wonderland.

i lifted anyway.

perhaps it was the stage of development. perhaps it was the pristine environment of chicken carcass. perhaps it was the same motivation grass has when it has been covered by a dark plank of wood for too long.

the lid lifted free of the pillow, and behold! the pillow held its shape like a black-speckled cotton candy. there was even a compacted rim around the edge where the glass lid had been tamping down the mold growth.

i was curious. would this fluffy creature deflate with a poke or a shake, like a risen bread baby? would the sudden rearrangement of the ecosystem's contents result in a smell?

i grasped the pot by the handles and shook it slightly. the mold held. the same sterile, scentlessness remained. my mold cake, easily three solid inches tall, reacted not a bit.

it did not tear itself in half when the lid was removed. it did not smell. it did not deflate or issue grumpy demands to be left alone. nothing happened.

alas, i need the pot clean for my next project, and so the experiment had to be called short. with a few sprays of tilex mold and mildew remover, my beautiful pillow developed black, viscous liver spots all along its surface. my baby has aged, and will probably shrivel during the night.

still, it was fun. and i think once the mold is dead this pot will be easier to clean out and disinfect than the many tea cups in my life have been.

love and peace

old english humor

so, i'm translating my little bit [and it was a pain in the ass, let me tell you], and my mind drifts to something that happened in class last time around.

the backstory we're working with [on this old english soap opera] is that this dude, A, was shipwrecked and ended up in this king's turf. they meet up [details are not given in the plot summary] in a bath, and A impresses the king [again, no details]. the king is so impressed, that he invites shipwrecked dude to a feast [literally translated "beer party"]. it is here that our translations begin.

we've gotten through the beer party, and here comes king's daughter. she smooches her daddy, and then goes around and kisses all the men at the table. apparently, this is a custom considered perfectly normal. then she sees shipwrecked dude, and we get to translate the king's rendition of their meeting in the bath.

here's what a student came up with at first:

i met A in the baths, and invited him to my beer party because "he pleased me the best of all my men."

um. in the baths? really? how ... greek. your men are taking turns pleasing you in the baths, and this stranger comes up and does a better job... there was much raising of eyebrows in the class. so the student tried again:

i met A in the baths, and invited him to my beer party because "he pleased all my men the best."

well isn't this worse? now poor shipwrecked dude is a man-whore. the king owes him a beer party at the very least for all his trouble in the baths.

a few sentences later, we find out that there was jousting at the baths, and that shipwrecked dude beat up the king's best man. this is pleasing to the king for some reason, and innuendo asides, the invite is issued for physical prowess in armed combat.

no matter how we translated it, it sounded like thinly veiled old english porn. and we, a class filled with responsible, mature graduate students, were reduced to red-faced, giggling seventh graders by the passage.


i only bring this up because i just managed to complete a translation that had about five extra words in it i couldn't find a place for, and after a few hours tinkering with it, i'm still not sure it's right. the king's father has granted his daughter something, and shipwrecked dude should no longer be sad. there's mention of money, but not marriage. given the little strumpet's actions at the beginning of the beer party...

oh well. i finished with it an hour earlier than usual, though this is because i skipped my nap this evening. sigh.

and i think i lost my memo pad. it had a nice pen in the spiral, and this saddens me. i hope i find it, and that i didn't leave in in 306. i'll check in the morning.

for now, i'm thinking it might be in my best interests to go to bed. even though it's only ten. i've been inordinately tired these last few days, on top of the cramps from hell and the backache of doom.

instead, i'll end up spending time with the cats.

love and peace.

...Especially Fantasy

today i was accosted [yeah, that's the right word for it] by a classmate who asked me whether i was writing anything interesting of late. though i have certainly been writing a great deal that i do find interesting, i truthfully answered with 'no. not lately.'

from this, i volunteered a wee bit about my writing patterns, in part because i was feeling magnanimous and not in the mood to verify possibly growing rumors that i disliked this fellow student [i do in fact dislike him a great deal], and in part to test a theory of mine concerning this fellow student [i was right].

i told him that i was in one of my research phases, and left it at that. most people follow up with 'what are researching now?' he followed up with 'oh, mythology and whatnot?' [this proves my theory correct, but i won't go into why here.]

'no,' i replied, 'i largely create my own mythologies, and don't rely too heavily on already made up ones.'

this threw him for a loop, apparently. it was a pleasure to witness. and a fun game to play. not only had i twice responded in an unexpected manner, but i had also twice eluded capture.

with mere moments before class began, he took the bait. 'do you always research your writing?'

'oh, yes.'

'even fantasy?'

'especially fantasy.'

then class started, and his little thinker was working on overdrive for the duration.

i may not care for this fellow student, but i do not consider him stupid, dull, or incapable of intelligible thought. he's irritating, not incompetent. so i was shocked when, after class, he revealed he had not been able to think of what would require research in a fantasy.

our professor was still putting away his projection equipment, and i was still packing my baggage for the trek home [though i ended up wandering the 4th floor for two hours...]. still feeling cheerful enough, and not in an easy position to escape without answering, i threw out some real information.

i described our thundering metal carriages and ocean-defying metal boats. in a world set before most of our modern technologies, certain less modern technologies are used. an author worth his or her salt needs to know these technologies in and out, or at least be well enough versed in them to write them intelligently and accurately. a little fantasy magic does not alter the function of a horse-drawn sledge on a snowy village street. likewise, ships need the full and correct accoutrement of sails and rigging to function, regardless of magic.

i was challenged on that.

at which point, i half-conceded that magic can be used in the enhancement of these things, but that research is even more necessary in that case. in order to determine how well-imagined magic will affect, say, the sledge being driven to temple service in winter, one must know how the sledge works without magic. only when the various parts are put together mechanically can shortcuts be made via magic. otherwise, all you end up with is a hodgepodge of magical assumptions that a savvy reader can and should see straight through.

transparency in this knowledge is what keeps it from clunking. the author ought to know at least ten times more research than is actually included in the work. this is where professor spoke up (apparently quite fascinated by the conversation) and mentioned the scene in LotR where wormtongue leans over the black powder-filled ball, and saruman freaks out. a very true-to-times curiosity and innocence, and a very real reaction. we all left the room, but i'll continue here on the transparency of knowledge:

for instance, if the medieval forms of alchemy are being used in the world, the author will need to know, bare minimum, the following:

-arcane terminology == what will the characters call stuff? can't use the modern terms.

-the philosophy and goals that make up the spirit of old alchemy == your character might well share these, or these can be realistic breeding grounds for altered developments.

-basic reactions that are being written about == duh. you'll need to know what color stuff turns, and all that, or how will you describe this?

-basic alchemical laws == unless everything is completely magical, and therefore, not terribly believable, even to the uber-suspended readers, you'll need to know basic interactions in order to predict what might happen if someone bumps a table. too, it is rare for alchemy to be involved in a novel without some sort of apprenticeship also being involved... what is the master going to be teaching?

-the attitude toward certain chemicals == and how, then will your characters handle these potentially life-threatening and/or life-giving elixirs? if you are (and you should be) using real substances, the real life attitudes are probably called for. those alchemists didn't all die from drinking liquefied orpiment; they had some healthy fears.

-the level of impurity [measured by today's standards *and* by yesteryear's standards] in various substances == see the next point, and recognize that most likely, your characters are not working with chemistry-classroom-grade materials.

-what that impurity will mean for the reactions being written about == depending on the most common impurities, something could turn out highly toxic that would otherwise be only so-so toxic, or a cure could be found that can't be replicated due to an unknown impurity that is actually the cure that can't be isolated.

-the colors, smells, tastes, textures, sounds, legends, fears, of or surrounding individual substances and combinations of those substances == i think i mentioned it above, but you'll be describing this shit unless you can find a clever way around it. it will help to know what you're describing. get color pictures, and read up on the non-printables.

-perception of alchemy as an art, and of alchemists == again, this might not be accurate to your world, but it is a good starting place. people had good, human reasons for these perceptions, and no matter how fantastic your world, there is an element of the human psyche in there, or readers will turn away in droves. remember, your readers are human.

-the types of mishaps common to that era == if for nothing else than use as a peripheral plot point, or an anecdote about the last apprentice, or something. having a list of these handy is good practice. when stumped for some low-level catastrophe, reach for your list. a well-researched list of bad things is a good thing.

-the types of mishaps common today and throughout the intermediate time == those that are the same point directly to the human in us that can't be purged by accumulation of knowledge. these are good things to include. remember your audience.

-most common cause of death in alchemists == they don't typically die peacefully in their sleep at the ripe age of 98. the things that go wrong regularly (see above) are the things that will probably take someone out. chances are high your alchemist knows a buddy who died by (reach for handy list), or has a warning to share with an apprentice. might could find a nice death for your character in here, or a near-death.

-dangers of the profession == slightly different from above. continual exposure to toxic fumes (without the handy knowledge that they are toxic) would result in ... that's right. unhealthy lungs. this gives you a chance to research healing teas and etc to help your character fight lung damage. these you could make up, but it's better to know terminology and basic herbal lore to get your fake herbs sounding right. too, your alchemist is probably leather-skinned and pock-marked. chances are high he or she has been burned several times, is likely missing an eyebrow, and may have lost some sight. get to know the dangers the real alchemists faced, because yours will face them too.

-"medicinal" mixtures and their opposites [ingredients, recipes, perceived effects, actual effects, etc.] == your alchemist could be involved in the making of these. if medicinal, this could be a good plot point, and could endear your alchemist to the local healer or the populous. if not, why is your alchemist brewing poisons? for whom? to what gain? to be used how? if you can't find a way to work this in, i pity you. this is cool stuff.

-the methods by which alchemical substances are created == i've probably done this in an earlier explanation. but dude. you're going to describe it, right? then get it right.

-the raw materials used in the processes == i mean the raw ingredients to those ingredients. where in the world is your alchemist getting all this sulphur? how about the spirit of nitre? sure s/he gets sugar of lead from lead oxide and vinegar, and yeah, the vinegar could come from the local grocer. where's the lead oxide found? i doubt there's a friendly alchemist shop around the corner. if there is, how does it stay stocked? where does it get stuff? how will trade routes affect the availability of certain things?

-the types of commerce and ecology necessary for the existence and transport of those raw materials == your alchemist likely cannot stay well stocked in a war zone. or during a famine. or if there's a drought, or particularly stormy weather in the trade channels. what kind of problems will affect his or her ability to lay hands on that hot new chemical from down continent? and how much will circumventing legal bans cost?

-various dangers involved in transportation == see above. is there a black market on azote [nitrogen] due to its potential to explode? what kinds of shady folks might be involved? what are their stories, and how might they affect your character? if your character has to transport stuff him- or herself, then there's much more that goes into this one.

-and much, much more! == i'm mercifully letting you off the hook.

refresher: "for instance, if the medieval forms of alchemy are being used in the world, the author will need to know, bare minimum, the [above]"

notice how many avenues are opened just by the knowledge. and if you want to add magic to that, you can explore the equipment being used (which i just noticed i left off my list), and add, harry potter style, single-temperature magical fires to avoid dangerous temperature fluctuations. or magically sterile and ionized containers and water (ionized shouldn't appear in the text, though... maybe "pure" or "holy" would work, depending on context). or protective spells for the alchemist. or specially magicked chambers. or heatless light sources. etc. but it helps to know what you're doing, and that knowledge on your part will show in the text.

sadly[?] i could do that kind of a list for any number of things, and all that is just the research portion of writing in a fantasy world.

we don't need that much research to write "real" things. if i wrote about crossing the state in a car, i'd need to research terrain and attractions for scenery's sake, but would not have to research cars. i'd pick a make, model, year, see what the gas mileage was, find a color, make up a license plate, and pack it full of characters and granola bars. end of research. i know enough about cars to be fine with that unless the dang thing breaks down. then there's some research to find out what went wrong, and what kinds of crap my characters are going to encounter at the small town "fix it shop" because jennifer forgot her AAA card in her other pants and neither tommy nor joe nor cathy had thought to prepare for car trouble either.

if my characters are crossing even a river in the fantasy world, then i have to pick the kinds of horses jeonnifre, thomlyn, jau'mareth and k'thayzh would be riding (what can they afford, what are their riding skills, especially jeonnifre, who can only ride side saddle because her father has her gussied up in a very biting chastity belt), what those horses need in terms of food, how our adventurers will obtain or carry that food, where they'll be keeping the rest of their stuff, and how much of it they can pack into saddlebags. i'll need to know something about how harness works, looks, is cared for. i'll need to know what happens when a horse throws a shoe. i'll need to know about how horses would react to being asked to cross a river. if there's a ferry, it gets more complicated.

let's say there's magic that makes the horses cross as if on solid ground. cool. but i know horses wouldn't be okay with this floating on water sensation. does the magic calm them? what if they are beset by robbers? are the horses too calm? how does the magic work? is it in the harness? the shoes? the river? amulets worn by our adventurers? a song being sung or chanted by thomlyn? how does thom play an instrument and ride? or is it a cappella? what's his pitch like? what if he's interrupted, or chokes on spit during a repeat? just in case, can the character's swim? would jeonnifre's chastity belt weigh her down? would she die a watery, virginal death? or would a river elf rescue her, unlock the belt, ravage her, and make her bear his scaly babies?

say that this magic, however it worked, was so normal as to make this all foolish thinking pointless. how is this? what laws of magic govern the world that supersede laws of physics? what's the magical fibre of the world like? how thick is that fabric? does it ever tear? i'll bet that's a bitch. what kinds of horrific things take place where the fabric is weakened? isn't that where the story needs to be? and not on a foursome of nobodies crossing a dumb river?

so yeah. it's getting late, and this is already far too long. here's the summary:

research: necessary.

even for fantasy?

especially for fantasy.

love and peace.

time for an update

i'm not sure what all is going on that's worth updating, but i do sense the need for an update of some kind.

newsworthy stuff:
-got the old english quiz back. last minute, late night, desperate studying of whatnot paid off. i think the memorization of articles counted a lot more than i thought it would. i got that part right. verbs... well. out of about 20 questions on verbs, i got 4 correct. i did well on the translation [thank you obsession with tinkering around with words and adoration of dictionaries], i did well on the declensions [thank you latin], and miserably on the ablaut series [no thanks to you, rote memorization of blue moon rules]. i did guess two of the six reasons why an adjective would be rendered in the weak declension. he only asked for three. i'm pretty sure there was partial credit going on there.

in short, though i probably missed a third of the questions asked, i ended up with a 91 on the quiz. that's some curve. i mean, literally, that whole second page of the three-page quiz is littered with green marks. the translation and articles must have counted a whole damn lot. and there must have been a curve.

and i REALLY need to get a grip on these verbs.

not incredibly newsworthy stuff:
-going to see pan's labyrinth with KM. then off to TGIF for dinner. i've actually never been to one of those.

-the closed down our cheddar's. no more best pot pie in texas. no more "single-serving" chocolate cake slab to feed three. i am saddened.

-i cooked pork chops today, and i'm not yet sure whether they are my kind of pork. i have never been fond of pork chops, because they are always dry, dry, dry. so dry they stick in my throat. they are worse than badly roasted turkey breast. but we'll see how they turned out. i'll eat them regardless, because i cooked them. that's generally the rule here, and the thing that keeps me from making large portions of "iffy" dishes.

and that's my update for now. i need to toss on a sweater and smear peanut butter on my english muffin. i have decided that if there is time [my theater-going mannerisms ensure that there will be time...] and if there are yummy candies [milk duds, huge bags of m&ms, giant gummy bears, etc.] i just may buy something. maybe. you know? if the thought strikes. i'm particularly daydreaming of milk duds. it's been a while, and absence has made my stomach grow fonder.

love and peace