Goblin Market

Chillibeer

2004-10-14T08:45:00.000-07:00

Well, the Chillibeer fest was a rousing success! Adam and I went early, of course, so we got our free commemorative sampling glasses. Now, let me let you in on a little secret. A ticket for a sample of beer costs 50 cents. If you DON'T have a special tasting glass, you get your 50 cent sample in a 2 ounce plastic cup. If you DO have a special tasting glass, you get 4 ounces for your 50 cents. Twice as much bang for you buck! In addition to drinking lots of exotic beer, we watched a fat guy eat 8 hot peppers in about 45 seconds. I thought his entire head was going to pop. And just in case you were wondering, the Champaign County Democrats won the Chilli cook-off--Democrats are the best at everything.

Well, the debates are over, and although neither candidate seemed to hit a home run, I thought Kerry did more than a good job. I was happy when, in the second debate, Bush came out firmly against Supreme Court justices who support slavery. It's good to know where he stands on that issue. Last night was domestic issues--while talking about gay marriage, Kerry of course brought up Dick Cheney's daughter. Now Lynne Cheney's all offended. I'm sorry, but if you are part of an administration that is doing its damnedest to take rights away from gay people, and you have a gay daughter, don't be surprised if someone brings it up. If you live by "family values," you die by "family values."

Great Debate

2004-10-04T09:13:00.000-07:00

Well, I thought John Kerry did REALLY well in the debate on Thursday night. Adam and I want to do a study to see how many more total words Kerry spoke than Bush, and what percentage of the words spoken by each were new (i.e., words they hadn't yet spoken in the debate). It seemed to me that Bush was just saying the same things over and over, while Kerry, although he hit his main points hard, was also able to come up with new ideas. Plus, I thought the note-taking thing was GENIUS--Kerry didn't have to stand there and stare at Bush (who'd want to?), but he still looked intellingent and engaged. Bush, on the other hand, couldn't seem to control his (mostly petulent or annoyed) reactions to Kerry's points, and the cameras caught every minute. Poor George W., war is so hard--he knows because he's seen it on TV.

I got lots of work done this weekend, but I still have so much to do. Grading was less painful than I'd anticipated, but I still have a presentation, book review, and, oh yeah, Stage II deadline looming in the near future. Plus, of course, more grading.

My little sister is going to go as Bender from Futurama for Halloween. On the show, Bender (who is a robot, for those of you who don't know), has a door in his chest that he sometimes opens and takes things out of. Ellen is going to be sure to have a door in her costume, so that she can have people place Halloween treats inside her, um, compartment. I can't remember if I was as cool as she is when I was 11, but somehow I doubt it.

Remember everybody, the Urbana Chili/Beer Extravaganza (not its real title) is this Saturday. Be there or be square--Adam and I will probably be trying to coordinate people to go later this week.

Raid

2004-09-21T08:48:00.000-07:00

The other night our garbage can was pillaged by an unknown creature. The only item that was removed and consumed was a bag with a few slices of stale bread in it. The remaining contents of the garbage can were untouched. Hannah, I know this will come as a shock, but I think Elijah is sneaking out.

For everything there is a season

2004-09-19T14:17:00.000-07:00

The best way to monitor the change of seasons is through weekly visits to the farmers market. The last few weeks, although the weather has been very warm and sunny, I've thought I sensed a change in the air--a different scent, a different kind of coolness in the morning. But I wasn't sure. This week at the farmers market, I was sure. The sweet corn was no longer piled up high on the big wagon; there was much less, and the ears were skinny, the kernels small. Instead, there were heaps of pumpkins and squash, peppers and broccoli in place of snow peas, pears instead of blueberries. The honey man was selling jars of fruit butters and preserves. The change from summer to fall always makes me feel melancholy, although I do look forward to getting out my sweaters, carving pumpkins, making soup, and being warm in a snug house when the weather gets cold. But then again, I love summer's relaxed pace, the easy langour of long days outside with a book and a cold drink, afternoons at the pool, silly day trips, barbecue. It's a big change to go from that to the accelerated pace of the school year, to the constant time demands, deadlines, and stress. I always adjust to it, but it always makes me wistful, too.

One super-fun thing about fall, though, is that it brings the Urbana Chili Cook-off/Beer-tasting. This year it's on October 9 so mark your calendars--last year it was a blast!

Because it's ladies' night

2004-09-10T09:35:00.000-07:00

Wednesday was ladies' night with the girls, and we had fuuuuun! At OU, even though I lived with most of my close friends, we always tried to get together one day every week for "girl lunch" or "girl dinner" or even just for a "girl beer." It was good to be in a fun atmosphere, all sitting around one table, relaxing and catching up. It gets harder and harder to coordinate everyone's schedules, but it would be great if the U of I girl squad could hook up regularly. Wednesday we dined at The Great Impasta, who probably win the award for most fattening sauces in C-U, and then some of us headed over to Boltinis. Now, when you have girl night, you have to drink girl drinks. And that means fruity shots and/or any drink that ends with "tini." In addition to the communal lemon drop shot, I had an appletini and a cosmopolitin(i)--yum! We also "Lyndied" many things--mostly our drinks, but at one point E. Lyndied existence, which I thought was pretty cool. All in all, lots of drinks, food, gossip, and secrets--everything a girl night should be!

RNC

2004-09-03T09:22:00.000-07:00

After the last presidential primaries/campaign/election, which I voted in but didn't really follow too closely until the chads hit the fan, I've tried to keep more abreast of what's going on in the world of politics. Adam and I watched a LOT of the coverage for the Democratic convention, and we watched the REAL coverage on CSPAN, not the chopped up, pundit-heavy coverage that a lot of the news networks were doing. However, I just couldn't bring myself to watch any of the Republican convention coverage. Not even George Bush's speech last night. I felt sort of guilty about that, since right now there's a 50/50 chance he'll be our president again, and that fact alone should make me want to hear about his plans for the future of our country. But I couldn't bring myself to do it--that man just turns my stomach. I used to be able to very reasonably argue for why Bush was not the best person to be running the country. Now, though, my distaste for him is so visceral that every time I see him on TV, all I want to do is smack his face over and over until that shit-eating grin of his falls right off. I don't know how John Kerry is going to be able to restrain himself--if I had to stand on the same stage with that creature in a debate, it would be all I could do not to leap across my podium and sink my teeth into his neck. I don't want to see a debate between those two so much as a cage match. Two tours in 'Nam could kick Texas Air National Guard's ass any day of the week.

I have picked up a few fun tidbits from my limited exposure to RNC proceedings over the last few days:
1. The front of the podium/pulpit at the convention has an inlaid design that looks unmistakably like a crucifix. I'm serious. Don't take my word for it, find a picture--you'll immediately see what I mean.
2. Keynote speaker "Democrat" Zell Miller wanted to challenge Chris Matthews to a duel, after Matthews gave him shit about his speech in an interview following the keynote. Now THAT'S what I'm talking about.
3. Bush's convention speech was interrupted not once but twice by protesters. Some uniter.
4. The hats worn by Republican conventioneers are even dumber than those worn by their Democratic counterparts. And that's saying a lot.

Rubber Band Man

2004-08-27T15:09:00.000-07:00

So it was the first week of class, except since Wednesday was "Monday" and I have all my classes on Wednesday, I haven't been to any class. I did go to the lecture class I T.A. for, but that hardly counts. It did get me sort of wishing that I could trade in one of my seminars for English 245: The Short Story, because I'm pretty sure I could get an A. Although we aren't reading some of my all-time favorite short stories from middle school, such as "The Most Dangerous Game" and "The Lady and the Tiger" and "The Gift of the Magi." Those are awesome but, unfortunately, not on the syllabus.

So instead of going to class I went to Staples and fulfilled my quest for the ultimate planner. Every year it is an epic search, but every year I prevail. Is it Staples that does the Rubber Band Man commercials, with the guy in bermuda shorts doing funky dance moves and passing out school supplies? I can never remember what store that commercial is for, because I always get so caught up with that guy's awesomeness that I forget to pay attention to the end.

We also went and saw "Garden State," with which I was pretty underwhelmed. I couldn't figure out why at first, because it seemed like the kind of movie I would like, and it reminded me a lot of "Eternal Sunshine," which I really did like. I think what I liked about ESSM was that all the characters were really gritty and messed up--they seemed pretty real, even though the plot was fantastic. In GS, however, the protagonist's biggest problem was that he was overmedicated, and once he went off his meds he was a really super guy. Natalie Portman's character's biggest flaw was that she was a compulsive liar, but after she lied she felt so bad that she ended up telling the truth. Isn't that just throw-up-in-your-own-mouth adorable? Neither of them had any drive or direction to their lives, but it was ok because their 4-day-old relationship was going to fill their pointless existences with meaning, so YAAAAY! Remember kids, if you just cling hard enough to another person, all your problems will be solved. Or if not, at least you'll have someone to blame it on besides yourself. I really liked the character of the druggy best friend, even though at the end of the movie we were supposed to despise him a little for not doing anything with his life, conveniently forgetting that throughout the entire rest of the movie he was the only one with any get-up-and-go to speak of. So, I was disappointed with this particular film, but I was cheered by the previews, which indicate that approximately 99.9% of the movies coming out this fall and winter will star the delicious Jude Law. Good thing he's so good lookin' or we might get sick of him.

We are family

2004-08-23T08:42:00.000-07:00

My parents were in town this weekend, which was lots of fun, but exhausting. They got in Friday evening and we had dinner at Dos Reales, their favorite restaurant in town. Saturday we were up bright and early to go to the farmers market, then we went to the grocery store and Sam's Club. In honor of my recently earned Masters Degree, they bought us a new mattress set, which is several inches higher than the old one and kind of makes me feel like the princess and the pea. After lunch we did a bit more shopping--I scored some "back to school clothes" but failed utterly in my attempt to find the perfect planner. On Saturday night Adam and I cooked dinner for everyone while my mom and grandma fiddled with the dining room drapes. I caught up a bit with my kid sister, who will be starting fifth grade on Wednesday, has a cast on her arm, and just adopted a new kitten named Meowzer. After everyone went back to the hotel we hit Hannah and Sarah's party for a bit. Sunday morning we had breakfast at Le Peep, did a brief driving tour of campus, and then said goodbye to the family. After they'd gone, we climbed (literally) back into bed and basically stayed there for the rest of the day.

The visit was made all the more hectic by the fact that this is the weekend everyone moves into the dorms. All the stores were packed and campus was a mess. It made me remember the day my parents moved me into Hoover for the very first time. I remember so vividly standing by the van and saying goodbye to them. We were all crying, and I was so scared. I stumbled back to the dorm, trying not to weep openly, trying not to look back as they drove away. I sat desolately in my dorm room for about five minutes, and just as I was about to completely lose it, some people I'd met at precollege came to find me, to see if I wanted to have dinner with them. That first week was a nightmare, but I swore I wouldn't let myself visit home until I'd been there three weeks. After three weeks I was having so much fun that I didn't want to go home. It all seems like such a long time ago, like it happened to an entirely different person. But it's still kind of sad when my parents leave after a visit, or when I head back after visiting them. I wish I lived closer to them. It's sort of sad to realize that if I ever want a happy professional life, I'll never be able to live in the town where I grew up, that in fact the closer I live to that town, the less happy I'll be professionally. My mother visits her mother on a daily basis--she lives right next door to one of her brothers and two doors down from another. She sees her sisters at least once a week. I'm used to that kind of close family dynamic, and living a whole state away, I really really miss it.

Academic Publishing Dos and Don'ts

2004-08-17T09:10:00.000-07:00

Working at the press, I'm always amazed by how clueless authors can be during the publication process. So, for the benefit and amusement of all interested, here's a short list of how to behave when you want someone to publish your book:

* If we ask you to recommend reviewers for your manuscript, DON'T tell us you can't think of any, because nobody else in the whole wide world does work exactly like yours. Get over yourself and give us some names, and DON'T give us your freaking dissertation committee, or your advisor, or your mom.

* If you want a book full of beautiful (and expensive) pictures, DO get permission for them. Seriously. You have to do this, and you have to do this all by yourself. I know, it's hard. And you can't just tell us the title of the book you found the picture in. You have to find out who actually OWNS the picture, and get them to give permission. Yes, yes, you are a very busy important professor, but let's suck it up and get it done.

* When you send us your manuscript, DO send it on both paper and a disk. Yes, computers are hard, but find some graduate student to show you what's going on. And don't put your entire book into one Word file. Break it up by chapters. Again, consult the nearest grad student.

* If we aren't moving your book along fast enough for your taste, DON'T tell us how many very prestigious presses are eager to see this manuscript. If they want it so bad, let them deal with your whiny assistant professor ass. It's not our job to make sure you get tenure this year.

* Ok, again with the pictures. DON'T send us an enormous pile of pictures and tell us to "pick the ones we think are best." YOU are the author. YOU do the picking. You also do the caption writing. I know it isn't very glamorous, but just do it already. And don't make them lame--"Woman in big hat" just doesn't cut it. And if they need to go at a certain point in the text, you need to indicate that. Otherwise we'll just stick them wherever we want. And if you send too many, we might throw some out. And there's really nothing you can do about it.

* If you want to publish your dissertation as a book, DO revise it first. Extensively. I don't care how good your committee told you it was. Reviewers can tell when you haven't revised your dissertation (the chapter-by-chapter run-down in the introduction is a dead giveaway) and it really pisses them off.

* If your manuscript is upwards of 400 pages, DON'T expect us to find reviewers for it really fast. No one is going to want to read it. Everyone is going to be "swamped" with work. Either send us something manageable or be prepared to sit and wait.

This is not a glamorous job, folks. We don't publish sexy chick-lit books with panties on the cover or John Grisham's latest paperback. If we sell a thousand copies of something it's time to throw a parade. Everyone wants to cut our funding. So give us a break. And enough with the goddamn pictures.

My heart is like a singing bird

2004-08-15T11:54:00.000-07:00

Adam's coming home today, which makes me very happy. It was just too lonely here without him. It made me remember how bad my first year here was, when he was still in Ohio. I didn't feel as horribly sad and lonely this week, because unlike last year I knew he was coming back to stay very soon, but being alone in an empty apartment, cooking for just myself, eating in front of the TV, waiting for the phone to ring, all that was like last year. It was kind of nice to bum around by myself and eat junk food and read a lot, but overall it was just boring.

I did go out with Am and Chris on Friday night, and that was fun. We went to dinner at the Olive Garden. Our waiter, Brandon C., was a sad little frat boy who looked really uncomfortable in his Olive Garden uniform, like he couldn't wait to get off work and back into his Old Navy flip flops, cargo shorts, and polo shirt. Poor guy. We ordered a bottle of wine, in which he proceeded to break off the cork. When he finally got the wine open, he presented me with the mangled cork to sniff. I declined, so he poured me a taste, which I approved. The whole song and dance took at least five minutes, and I was amused by the fact that at Olive Garden they teach their waitstaff to formally present an eighteen dollar bottle of wine, but not how to successfully get the cork out of said wine. After dinner we went back to Chris and Am's to watch a movie. It's fun to see them getting all moved in to their new apartment together--I remember how exciting it was last year for Adam and me. Nevertheless, I'm SO glad we didn't have to move this summer--it's the first summer since I left home for college that I haven't had to move! My parents, I think, are even more relieved than I am.

Go Me!

2004-08-10T12:35:00.000-07:00

Guess who just banged out an ENTIRE rough draft of her personal statement that might not entirely suck? Seriously, someone should get a reward, and that someone is Sara Buttring. I think a frappucino and the new Strong Bad email are definitely in order.

All by myself

2004-08-09T09:13:00.000-07:00

Adam left on Saturday to visit home for a week. To overcome the loneliness, I went to the grocery store and loaded up on luxury food items: Doritos, frappacino, fancy cheeses, exotic lunchmeats, Uncle Ben's noodle bowls--you know, all the staples. An amazing thing happened at Wal-Mart. I was standing in a looooong line with my cart full of overpriced junk food, collecting looks of disdain from more practical shoppers, when a Wal-Mart employee with a little cart of shopping bags and a scanning gun approached me. He scanned and bagged my items, then scanned a little plastic card, which he gave to me. When I finally made it to the front of the line, I handed the card to the cashier who scanned it. All my items were immediately rung up, I paid, and then trotted right out with my cart full of already-bagged foodstuffs. Say what you want about Wal-Mart, they do come up with clever ways to move lots of customers through that store.

So, I've been enjoying my junk food, doing some reading, watching some movies, and of course work. Today I emailed Chinua Achebe, but it bounced back. Typical. I've been making progress on my Stage II writing sample, but I have yet to tackle the personal statement. Gulp. It just feels so futile, because I know whatever I write will probably have to be completely re-written as soon as I show it to someone. I wish they'd just tell us exactly what they want to see, but I'm sure if I asked I'd get some smirky "every student is a special little snowflake, so there's no one right way to do it" response. Oh well. I'll try to crap something out this week, so as to have at least something to work with before classes start. I wonder when the fall deadline for Stage II apps is anyway. Maybe that would be a good thing to investigate.

Putt-Putt Throwdown

2004-08-06T09:44:00.000-07:00

Last night Boyfriend and I went putt-putting. There's a course that's right off Neil in Savoy--I forget what it's called, but it's right by a bowling alley. It was a pretty nice course, actually. You could choose from two 18-hole courses, and there wasn't a lot of silly windmill/castle type stuff. There were LOTS of water hazards, which is always exciting. Boyfriend and I tied, and neither of us got any hole in ones, but it was still lots of good (w)holesome--get it?--fun.

In less fun news, Boyfriend is leaving tomorrow to visit his family for a whole week, leaving me lonely. So, if anybody's doing anything fun next week, let me know. My datebook is empty :(

Fiesta Sangria

2004-08-02T16:48:00.000-07:00

Saturday night Boyfriend and I threw our first big house party. I made my signature sangria, we put out the tiki torches, and people came from far and wide. Well, from Champaign, anyway. It was really fun, though. Some great moments:

* Dancing in a circle with the GSLIS girls. I got just drunk enough to dance in a circle, but not so drunk that dancing in a circle made me feel sick.

* Chris Maier and I forming the ultimate beer pong team, OBLITERATING the reigning champions.

* E's guacamole. I only got about three chips full (people swooped down on that stuff like vultures), but it was three chips full of heaven.

* Seeing girls with paper umbrellas in their hair.

* Snarfing booze soaked grapes out of the bottom of a plastic cup.

* Getting repeatedly spanked by Am.

* Hearing over and over what a nice house we have. I'm fully aware of this, but MAN do I like to hear it.

* Being told by GEO Dave that I resemble someone named Bert. But it's cool, because Bert has a sister, who also looks like me. (I suspect that Bert does not have a sister, but rather on occasion dresses in women's clothes and CLAIMS to be his own sister, Roberta.)

What was your favorite sangria-soaked moment?

Cake and Politics

2004-07-28T08:45:00.000-07:00

In honor of Boyfriend Day yesterday, I took the afternoon off work to bake a cake. It was from a box, but it was a layer cake, which can be tricky, and I did make the frosting myself. In my opinion, if you are making a basic chocolate, white, or angel food cake, you might as well use a box. It tastes just as good, and it's way cheaper (some from-scratch angel food recipes call for TWELVE EGGS). Anyway, it turned out really nice. I took him to dinner at the Courier (YUM!) and then we went for a nice walk around the neighborhood. Everyone in our area takes landscaping very seriously--there are some gorgeous houses with gorgeous lawns and flowers in the blocks surrounding us. I can't wait until we own a home and can do that sort of thing--until then I have to content myself with chasing the squirrels out of the flower boxes. Then we did presents and cake. Since it was his birthday, I let him watch the Democratic National Convention instead of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. We saw Barak Obama's keynote speech (Obama is running for Congress in Illinois, still unopposed after the whole Jack Ryan fiasco)--he was unbelievable! His speech was electrifying, but it was really positive, not polarizing--in effect everything the democrats wanted their convention to be. Hopefully he'll get elected (I can't see how he could lose at this point); I'm interested to see what kind of a job he does. I could totally see him being our first black president--I was ready to vote him into the White House last night.

Land of Lincoln

2004-07-27T09:22:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, Boyfriend and I took a trip to Springfield. For those of you not up on your historic sites of Illinois, Springfield is where Lincoln practiced law, got married, and started his family. He bought a house there, where he lived with the wife and kids until they moved into the White House. Luckily for us, that house is still standing and can be toured. You can also tour two other historic homes in Lincoln's neighborhood that have displays set up in them about Lincoln's life and about historic home restoration in general. After that, you can wander into town and see the original capitol building where Lincoln used to practice law. You can also take your boyfriend's picture next to the life-sized statue of Abe and Mary Todd. After all that, you'll really want to take a break, which you'll have to do at Subway because all the restaurants in town apparently close down on Sundays. But THEN you can go to the Dana-Thomas house, which surprisingly enough doesn't have anything to do with Lincoln. It is a house that Frank Lloyd Wright designed for a Springfield heiress and it is seriously one of the most incredible things I've ever seen. I can't imagine being surrounded by so much beauty every day of my life--while I'm having breakfast, while I'm reading, when I change my clothes, take a bath, lay down to sleep. Every room was like a sculpture, every room was unique, yet it all flowed together to form a perfect whole. I didn't want to leave. But I did, because the tour guide, soft spoken as he was, did not seem like he would cast a kind eye on a stowaway. To finish off our trip we went to pay our respects at Lincoln's tomb, which was exciting for Boyfriend because he has apparently wanted to visit said tomb ever since he was very small. Having checked that life goal off our list we headed home, full to the brim with state history.

If you see Boyfriend today, wish him happy birthday, and be sure to ask him why Abraham Lincoln is important to him.

Demolition, man

2004-07-25T19:36:00.000-07:00

On Saturday night Boyfriend and I went to the demolition derby at the Champaign county fair. Now, I know we hear all the time how awesome demolition derbies are, but let me just chime in with my two cents. DEMOLITION DERBIES ARE AWESOME. For those of you who don't know, a demolition derby is where you get about 15 cars into a big mud pit and have them smash into each other until they break down, and then the last three cars standing advance to the final round. But there's so much more. First, you can't just bring any car to a demolition derby. The car has to already be a good bit demolished--the best ones are so out of shape that they sort of look like the cars a villain in a cartoon would drive, all crushed and contorted into sharp edges and points. After you get the shape right, you have to give your car a custom paint job. You should make it at least two or three different colors; for humorous effect you can make it look like a black and white police car or a yellow cab. I didn't seen any painted to look like the General Lee, but we might be too far north for that. Then you have to paint clever but meaningful phrases on it, like "God bless America" or "WWJD?" I'll tell you WJWD. He'd smash the hell out of his opponents! Finally, you have to paint the names of all the people you know on your car--your parents, your buddies, your girlfriend, the girl who's pregnant with your kid, the other girl who's pregnant with your other kid. Anyone who deserves a "shout out." Then you are ready to RUMBLE.

So, all the cars get out into the ring, and the ramming starts. In every round, at least two or three cars never make it past the starting flag--these vehicles are in such bad shape that they simply fail to start, and if you remain motionless for a certain amount of time your car is disqualified. Often the action is obscured almost entirely by the smoke and exhaust that pours from these machines, and the smell is like a huge pile of burning tires. But don't worry, it's totally safe because any time a car catches on fire (which happens at least once a heat), they stop all the cars and the firemen come out with fire extinguishers to take care of it. It's sort of hard to tell sometimes, though, when this needs to happen, because many of the cars have pipes coming out of the hoods that actually shoot flames on purpose, which is totally legal and doesn't warrant stopping the derby.

In one of the heats there was a woman driver, which apparently in the world of demo derbies is quite rare (who knew?). The pot-bellied, flannel-shirted, suspendered announcer consistently referred to her as "our FEmale driver." Anyway, by the end of her heat she was down to the rim of one of her tires and still going. She made it to the final heat, proving that women CAN be as pointless and destructive as men, but I'm not sure how that worked out for her. After two hours of derby Boyfriend and I developed an insatiable craving for funnel cake, so we missed the last bit. Instead we went to the petting zoo and watched a toddler chase a goose around. As far as ground speed goes, a toddler and a goose are pretty evenly matched, which is something I did not know. Midwestern county fairs--fun AND educational.

The way we do things here

2004-07-23T13:02:00.000-07:00

This summer I've been working on revising a seminar paper for my Stage II application, which I'm going to submit in the fall. I wrote the paper for Catharine's seminar, which I took this past spring, and before I submitted it I told her that I'd like to revise it for my application. So, because she knew that, she was extra good about making LOTS of suggestions, both about small points and overall organization, etc. So I revised it once with her original comments in mind, and then today I got my second draft back with more comments (LOTS more). Now, I appreciate the help, and her advice is REALLY good--she gets what I'm trying to say, but she makes me find ways to say it better. However, when I get a draft of anything I plan to revise back with comments on it, my brain goes through a specific routine (this has happened since I was an undergrad). Let's explore these stages, shall we?

1. I see all the nasty black (or, worse, RED) scratches on what was once a pristine essay, and I panic. I become convinced that only an idiot couldn't get this right the first time and decide to abandon my career goals and instead drive a train for the rest of my life. (I really do think driving a train would be a cool job, especially if it was a train that didn't have any people on it, just wood and cows and coal and stuff.)

2. I read the comments, focus only on the negative ones, and become even MORE convinced that my future lies in boxcars, but that maybe I should just abandon all plans of a career and resign myself to being a hobo.

3. I force myself to ONLY read the positive comments and think, well, maybe I am smart enough to be an engineer after all, just not the kind that has to know a lot of math and physics.

4. I get out the heavy artillery--lined paper, pens, pencils, and highlighters. I use the critical comments to construct a tidy plan for revision, one which involves lots of soothing lists and bullet points. I read this plan and ask myself, "Can I pull this off?" The answer is usually yes--yes I can reorganize, clarify, condense, focus, and tidy up. I realize that train driving would probably be too noisy anyway, and soot would get under my contacts in an unpleasant manner.

This process used to take weeks. This afternoon it only took a couple hours, and that's counting a break for lunch. Yes, I'm neurotic, but at least I'm getting more efficient about it.

Of course, I haven't even thought about writing my personal statement yet, probably because thinking about it makes me pukey. My statement for grad school was a sick joke--I think I destroyed all record of it as soon as I sent out my applications. Anybody really good at them can do mine--there might be cookies in it for you.

Christmas in July

2004-07-21T09:41:00.000-07:00

In 1900, Christmas turkeys were 10 cents a pound in Chicago. You could buy a Christmas dinner basket that included a nine-pound turkey, celery, sage, plum pudding, canned corn, raisins, a pound of mixed nuts, a quart of cranberries, minced meat, sweet potatoes, and olives for $1.95.

First of all, olives? Second, you have to respect a generation of women who could drag that basket home and know how to transform all its wild and various contents into an edible Christmas feast. If it were me I'd just stuff everything into the turkey hole, crank up the oven, and hope for the best. Except the olives. The olives I'd save for dessert. God bless us, every one!

Eating and Reading

2004-07-18T15:59:00.000-07:00

It's always agony to wake up at 7:30 a.m. on Saturdays to go to the farmers market, but once we get there I'm always glad. I love to see all the people with their dogs and little kids and big bags full of fruits and vegetables, and I love the smell of herbs and kettle corn, and I love the riot of flowers. I just want to put the whole market in my tote and bring it home with us. I settle for tomatoes, melon, cinnamon rolls, peas, squash, zucchini, and plenty of sweet corn. The corn is my favorite, it's what I wait all year for, the rows of shiny, bi-colored kernels, each bursting with sweet milky juice. I like it prepared very simply--boiled on the stove, topped with butter and lots of salt. It's one of my earliest taste memories, the taste of summer, of long days in the pond, late suppers eaten outside, and catching fireflies.

Today we went to IMPE and lounged around by the pool, got splashed by some little kids, did some "fun" reading. The NEA is currently very hot and bothered because they did a study which they claim shows that there has been a severe drop-off in the number of people who read "literature" as a "leisure" activity. Now, I have some problems with this study. First, they define "literature" as any work of fiction, poetry, or drama. So, this means that Danielle Steele's novels count, but Frederick Douglass' autobiography does not. I enjoy novels, but I also enjoy autobiographies, biographies, travelogues, history, and various other works of non-fiction. Second, I read tons of "literature," but it's not a leisure activity for me; during the school year I rarely read "literature" for "leisure" because I don't have the time to. Instead I read magazines like Newsweek, Smithsonian, Entertainment Weekly, Atlantic, Premier, etc., because it's easier to devote small amounts of time to articles than a couple of days to a novel. However, according to the study, reading mainly magazines in my leisure time puts me among the unwashed masses, even though I read plenty of "literature" for classes, and even though my "non-literature" reading material is, I think, of very high quality. I'm not saying that people shouldn't read more, but I think that this particular study is a bit skewed.

Surprise!

2004-07-16T13:22:00.000-07:00

Around the perimeter of our little garden patch grow something called "surprise lilies." Here's how they work. Early in the spring lots of tall green leaves come up, and it really looks like some kind of wonderful flower is going to grow out of them. Then, all at once, the leaves wilt into matted yellow clumps. They look horrible. And you think, well, something awful has happened and now there will never be flowers again. Life sucks. Then, months later (i.e., now), when you'd forgotten all about them, slender green stalks snake up where the leaves died, and they blossom gorgeous pink lilies. SURPRISE! I'm sure there's a clever metaphor in all of this somewhere, but I'll let you work it out for yourselves.

There's a lake in my mind

2004-07-15T09:34:00.000-07:00

In yoga last night our teacher told us that some yoga practitioners believe that everyone is born with a beautiful clear lake in their minds. The lake contains a liquid that is like the nectar of the gods. You can see evidence of this lake in the eyes of babies and young children--clear, open, pure. Starting at around puberty, the lake starts to drip down into the core of our bodies. When the last of it drains away, we die. But. By practicing yoga, we can generate heat that burns away the waste that is also stored in our cores. This burning causes the liquid that's dripped down to evaporate back up into our minds, allowing us to live longer. I really liked that. When she was describing this to us, I thought of the waste that we burn off in bodily terms, but I also think that it can be emotional waste--insecurities, grudges, worries, prejudices. I know that whenever I do yoga, I feel better both physically and emotionally, and now I know why. I'm replenishing my lake.

In less esoteric news, Boyfriend and I met for lunch on campus yesterday, which was really nice. Since he works in the mornings and has class in the afternoons, I like being able to see him for a little bit in the middle of the day. Our new favorite lunch spot is the Chinese/Thai place between Espresso and Subway on Daniel. It's a real little hole in the wall, but MAN is the food good. Tasty, cheap, and piping hot. I recommed the kung pao chicken. They put mushrooms in it, which not every place does, and they don't load it up with celery, which most places do. Nice and spicy, too. I bet burning that off REALLY helped replenish the lake.

Financial Irresponsibility

2004-07-14T13:55:00.001-07:00

A question: If I ran out right now and spent all my money on cute tank tops and drug store beauty products, would I really be that much worse off? I don't know what it is about summer that makes me want to blow wads of cash on silly clothes and lip gloss, but it happens every year. I also get the urge to eat out EVERY NIGHT, which doesn't happen in the winter time. And, I feel like I'd be much happier if I were slightly drunk all the time off an unlimited (free) supply of daquiris, g&t's, and fruity white wines. Summer turns me into an undergraduate for some reason--maybe it's the sudden drop off in responsibilities.

I think I'll go balance my checkbook now. That should put an end to my financially irresponsible urges.

Stormy Weather

2004-07-13T13:48:00.000-07:00

It's blowing up a gale outside! The radio says tornado warning, and driving home from work I could see the clouds swirling around. Everyone on the sidewalk was staring up at the sky. And of course our neighbors, who spend most of their time standing or sitting around in their front yard, were out in full force. Boyfriend is at class--I hope he can get home soon or find someplace to hunker down until the storm blows over. I also hope we don't get a lot of water in the breakfast nook, since the ceiling in there has been leaking lately. I've pulled the emergency kit that Boyfriend's mom made us out of the drawer, just in case. It includes bandaids, Dove body refreshers, a hand-powered radio and flashlight, and lots of candles with attractive holders (but no matches). So, I guess I'm all set.

Spice Rack

2004-07-13T09:35:00.000-07:00

You know what I hate? I hate that you can't buy a spice rack that doesn't already come with jars in it. All my spices are already in jars--that's how I buy them. I don't want to be wasting my time emptying my already jarred spices into new jars. Even worse, some spice racks come with jars that ALREADY CONTAIN SPICES. So, they want me to pay for spices that a) I already have, or b) I would never in a million years use. Like marjoram. What the hell is marjoram? One website informs me that "it is mostly recommended for rather heavy vegetables like legumes or cabbage." Legumes and cabbage, huh? Well sign me up for a crate! All I want is an empty spice rack that will accomodate the standard size jars that you buy in the grocery store, both the squatty ones and the taller ones, but not the economy-size huge ones. How about it, science?