I take that back

So I swapped shifts today, and in the walk from Wilk to Library managed an adventure. This is a walk of all of three minutes, mind you, and in it I witnessed one Amazing Race finish, a round of jousting in the quad and a complete massacre, ninja versus pirate. It was like my own private showing of ImprovEverywhere.

Brilliant stuff.

of boy and beaver

One thing about having the greatest job on campus is then having the greatest coworkers on campus who then try to set you up with their greatest friends because they're genuinely wonderful people intent on bringing you joy. Or they're just tired of being the only marrieds in their group of singles. Either way, this happens all too often. But I think Goodwin may have done right this time around with her recommendation---and with all the proof, too.

His name is Jeff and he is a rocket scientist from San Diego. Which apparently makes him just qualified enough to pull this off:


I told you she had the proof. O, I think he's the one. MFEO, right?


. . . . . . unbelievably smooth segue to completely unrelated topic:

I attend a relatively well-known university of great merit and deserved academic accolade. My coeds are generally brilliant, of the sort that make me wonder daily why I was allowed among them, and tend to take their studies seriously. I mean, they certainly know how to have fun, but are usually also aware of their age bracket. So it was something of a surprise when my morning walk to campus found me in the company of witch and ghoul.

I have met a Luke Skywalker, a Hermione Granger, two different Jack Sparrows, and a Robin Hood/Peter Pan hybrid just skipped on into the lab. That's not to mention the Whoopee Cushion I stood in line with at Sugar & Spice, the Wonder Bread I walked with to the Wilk, or the bowling ball I passed by on my way to Italian. I am all for Halloween and the joys of becoming Someone Else for a day, but . . . all day? All school day? I should not be laughing like this, but I am. It's hard not to, given the beaver that just waddled by.

the people sing, the people sing

And as the world turns to shadow, I find a bit of light: Anne just sent me the piano music for Brooke Fraser/Hillsong United's Hosanna.

Hosanna, indeed.

born anew

The most wonderfully new baby sat in front of us at Stake Conference last week, a small thing with static sticky-up hair and gummy smile. He made me think (for some reason) about my brother's birth announcement and Liz Stevens' handwriting about the border, which made me want to emulate her signature print and so I set out to try. I began intending to scribble out some old rhyme to get the hang of it, but with such a face in front of me, this came out instead:

oh! little one
oh! small thing
we have yet such
light to learn
by riding on thy wing!

oh! sweet babe
oh! wee being
your presence here
is of Grace on high
and the joy that angels sing!

Which, when I found it tucked among my journal this week at church, made me immensely happy and brought the peace I'd been seeking for. As it is, X and I are headed up the canyon for some SPP time, picnic in tow. What are men to rocks and mountains?

motivi per amare jacob

You know it's bad when you find yourself posting to any sort of fan forum---worse still when it involves vampires and werewolves. But what if it's a Twilight forum in Italian? Then what?

Then we start asking ourselves questions like, Esistono Jacob nella vita reale? and Se Jacob si trovasse la ragazza? and I keep wordreference.com running and ready. Then we discuss all things Jacob Black, from motorcycles to gravity.

NANA_Ceres, Danatis, and Nihal17 just might be the only friends I have in such a pro-vampire world, and for the past half hour I've been free to declare my wolf-love without fear of the Cold Ones. Here we can talk about the boy who brings warmth and character to the series, the boy with one hope and one goal: to fight for love and win. He's the one character who's fully human (okay, half werewolf, too) in the sense that he wants to live. He fights for a life of simplicity and trust and genuine human connection against the eternal arctic of an Edwardian future and still people beat him to the ground.

They say he's immature and insolent. People, Edward's a hundred-plus years old (and if that doesn't freak you out, it should). He's had a century to figure things out. Jacob's young and passionate and willing to try---and what's more, he doesn't regret it. And too bold? Jacob has a right to take risks when he could lose the only girl he's ever loved. Even then, do you realise that he was right all along? That Bella did love him, that she could love him back in that life he's fighting for?

They say he's a brat. Edward's possessive and tantrum-prone, the perfect Drama King. All Jacob's ever done is hold a grudge and speak out when threatened. Haven't seen Jacob throw himself to the Volturi quite yet, have we? They say he's all-wrong and not even close to the boy Edward is. Again: Edward wants her blood. Jacob wants her heart. There's a difference.

I guess I get a little riled up about such a silly topic (and when I don't even like the actual books, too!), but doesn't this disturb you just a little? Stephenie Meyer has given the comparison herself: Edward is Bella's drug, Jacob her sun and air. Which one would you choose?

True Story: 'E' is the most commonly used letter in the English alphabet.

"After you've been in college for a year or so, you're supposed to choose a major, which is the subject you intend to memorize and forget the most things about. Here is a very important piece of advice: Be sure to choose a major that does not involve Known Facts and Right Answers. This means you must not major in mathematics, physics, biology, or chemistry, because these subjects involve actual facts. If, for example, you major in mathematics, you're going to wander into class one day and the professor will say: "Define the cosine integer of the quadrant of a rhomboid binary axis, and extrapolate your result to five significant vertices." If you don't come up with exactly the answer the professor has in mind, you fail. The same is true of chemistry: if you write in your exam book that carbon and hydrogen combine to form oak, your professor will flunk you. He wants you to come up with the same answer he and all the other chemists have agreed on. Scientists are extremely snotty about this. So you should major in subjects like English, philosophy, psychology, and sociology -- subjects in which nobody really understands what anybody else is talking about, and which involve virtually no actual facts. I attended classes in all these subjects, so I'll give you a quick overview of each: ENGLISH: This involves writing papers about long books you have read little snippets of just before class. Here is a tip on how to get good grades on your English papers: Never say anything about a book that anybody with any common sense would say. For example, suppose you are studying Moby-Dick. Anybody with any common sense would say that Moby-Dick is a big white whale, since the characters in the book refer to it as a big white whale roughly eleven thousand times. So in your paper, you say Moby-Dick is actually the Republic of Ireland. Your professor, who is sick to death of reading papers and never liked Moby-Dick anyway, will think you are enormously creative. If you can regularly come up with lunatic interpretations of simple stories, you should major in English."---DAVE BARRY, 'College'

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Most of you were aware that it was too late, but today I made it official. I am an English Major (emphasis on the Brit Lit & Creative Writing).

And proud of it.

sundance kids

"It troubled me with what I can only describe as the Idea of Autumn. It sounds fantastic to say that one can be enamored of a season, but that is something like what happened; and, as before, the experience was one of intense desire. And one went back to the book, not to gratify the desire (that was impossible--how can one posess Autumn?) but to reawake it." ---C.S. LEWIS, Surprised by Joy

A glorious end to a glorious weekend. <---Yep, this a link, folks. Take it or leave it. Just don't ignore it.

one year older and wiser, too

Happy Birthday to Jacq. & Jake!

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

you shall above all things be glad and young
 For if you're young, whatever life you wear

 it will become you; and if you are glad
 whatever's living will yourself become.

the end is nigh

I woke up this morning feeling Greek. Ancient Greek. I don't quite know how to describe it, except that I had this intense desire to wear gold and loop my hair up in intricate knots and swirls---so I did. I wore a gold sweater and my gold sandals, my hair was pulled back into three twisted buns, and I wrapped a sky blue ribbon around my head, too.

I spent the day feeling hurried. I ran to class, ran to work, ran to meeting after meeting all afternoon. It was exciting, it was worthwhile, but it was terribly tiring. C.S. Lewis Society was something of a relief--we're reading Abolition of Man and had a fantastic discussion on passionate education. And I got to eat lunch with X, which never happens and was a welcome hour of happiness amidst the hectic.

I spent the evening in utter turmoil.

There I sat, absorbing every detail of Anthony Rider's lecture on Integritas, Claritas, et Harmonia: a Reflection on Aesthetics in Portrait Painting while trying desperately to record it on every blank page I had left in my folders. He had just passed the half-way mark when the strobe lights flashed on, the siren sounded its call and we were swept up and out of a burning library. Yes, this was no drill: smoke was billowing from the roof top*.

As I was on a bit of a schedule I didn't wait for the details but instead walked towards home and a WF paper waiting to be written. I had three hours until midnight, I thought. Surely that will be enough. But I hadn't factored in an empty mailbox or the full sink. The first threw me to instant despondency---the second into utter frenzy. I can't concentrate with such clutter.

So I threw the dishes into the dishwasher, scrubbed out the pots and pans, and set the cycle to Extreme Wash. I had spent all of five minutes in front of my notes when I realised things weren't quite right; water was spilling from the dishwasher like Niagra Falls, a mess of foam running to all corners of my kitchen.

And there you have it: my Wonderful Wednesday now comes to a close. A fire, a flood---what more could you possibly want?

. . . . . . . . . .

*Don't worry, I'm pretty sure it's nothing to worry about. Although it was a little eerie, seeing all the corridors sealed off with iron-clad doors and students squeezing out of every emergency exit. Crazy stuff.

**Also, as something of a side note: The first thing I noticed after my escape from the Library was an insane amount of birds careening about the black sky---except they weren't birds, they were bats. Lots and lots of bats. Now, I happen to like bats, so this was rather magical to me, but what in the world?

life update

You know, the usual.

. . . . . . .

You Belong in London

A little old fashioned, and a little modern. A little traditional, and a little bit punk rock. A unique soul like you needs a city that offers everything. No wonder you and London will get along so well.

What City Do You Belong In?

. . . . . . .

As if I needed a blogthing quiz to tell me this.

we want moore!

Man alive, what a concert! We've been Looking Forward to this for a Few Days Down, but this? This was Extraordinary, beyond our Wildest Hope. Most people thought this was just our Latest Mistake (they had her pop princess persona in mind)---but it was All Good Things, and we were Swept Away. We Adore Her more than ever (and Rachael Yamagata is high-larious, most especially when drunk).

Okay, seriously: we want to be Mandy. She was sweet, stylee, gracious, and gorgeous. Beautiful person and all-around inspiring. She said things like "Golly" and "Anywho," drank tea from a steaming thermos, and brought us into her Tree of Trust. We've been there for her since Chasing Liberty, and we're not going anywhere anytime soon.

. . . . . . . . . . .

"No, I wish you All Good Things."

today

Wear
red
for Burma.

thought

Every time I got a migraine, Hips would tell me to massage my eyebrows. It's such strange advice that I've linked it to every migraine ever since.

I have a migraine. And Hips is married.

Weird.

speed scrabble

I know. Speed Scrabble was letter 'c' on my list---but 'c' is always your best bet when it comes to multiple choice, remember? And besides, this is short and simple.

c. Speed Scrabble: I want to play it, but I don't have all the pieces.

wistful wednesday

Hours on end in a lab give you extra time to be pensive, and today I have been thinking about:

a. Yale Avenue in the fall.
b. Cocoa Cafe & jacqea.
c. Speed Scrabble.
d. Atlanta, Toronto, and Kampala.
e. Soy milk.

Remind me to tell you all about them at my next shift.

time takes time enough

I still don't believe that ticker.
There's no way.

Two months!
Two weeks!
Three days!

Every time I see it my heart beats a little faster.
I'm going home.