Oh dear . . .

I've really done it this time. Paper due tomorrow, nowhere near done . . . oh pooh. What to do, what to do. How did my procrastination get this bad? Not even that, I feel like my paper writing skills in general have decreased exponentially. It's as though that portion of my brain, the portion with paper writing knowledge stored away in it, took a terrible tumble and is now all bent out of shape past recognition. Will I pull an all-nighter? Ugh. I so don't want to but what else can I do . . .

I can't even stress eat because there isn't any food around. I've been so busy I haven't had time to go grocery shopping. This is my life? How pathetic and sad.

I'm still here

I'm just not posting because I am yet again caught in the midst of paper writing hell, well perhaps hell is an exaggeration . . . for now. It's finals week and I have a paper to write and after tomorrow evening will also have exams to grade. I've already done my usual share of procrastinating so now I'm buckling down to work . . . a rare occurrence I know *smile*

I'll be back soon with lots more time to post once classes are over with for the summer. And I promise I'll have lovely and enthralling things to say . . . probably not but at least more amusing than whining about paper writing, right?

For now let me leave you with this, after a week of gloriously warm and sunny days we've had a day or so of rain. Rain that was completely satisfactory in every way. There were big droplets of rain that I could hear hitting the bamboo leaves outside the window as I read and the thunder was rumbling in the distance. Perfection.

Anticipating summer

Today was just beautiful. Blue skies without a cloud to be seen and temps in the low 80s. The faint scent of flowers on the gentle breeze blowing across campus. Everyone is sitting out on the lush green grass of the quad reading or talking. On my way to class this morning I ran into the girls and we went for bubble tea (actually I was skipping out on the errands I was supposed to be running before class but whatever, I never just run into the girls on campus so it was a little treat). Then a grueling six hours of class later, I finally get outside again and it's still lovely. I love that days are so long in the summer. But the weather being so nice is going to make these last two weeks of school really hard, longing to be lazy in the sun while needing to get lots of work done. Oh how I long for summer break . . .

Hello Star Wars

So, just a random note to say that I keep seeing this kid walking around campus in full Stormtrooper get up. Actually I didn't know it was a kid necessarily except for the fact that I saw him without his head/helmet on today. The nice and yet bizarre thing about college campuses is that you can be wearing and doing just about anything and people won't give you a second glance. So, Stormtrooper around campus is seemingly totally normal. Of course, it's not really normal but that's besides the point. What I want to know is why anyone would decide to walk around in costume for no apparent reason? Especially in the weather we've been having lately, it's not very costume conducive. It was pouring rain the first couple times I saw him and today it was too warm to be comfortable in Stormtrooper gear . . . probably why he took off the helmet. I guess I should give him props for his dedication to costume wearing . . . a round of applause for the Stormtrooper?

Yes, it's only Tuesday

How is it still only Tuesday?! I feel like I'm coming off a week of Thursdays that never amount to a Friday! There is too much work and too little time . . . I'm drowning in work. Even as I type that though I am in fact procrastinating, oh pooh. I have an entire book to read before tomorrow morning and numerous other articles that need to be read but am I doing any of those things? Of course not. However in the past 5 hours since I got out of class, when I should have been reading, I got all of these things done:

1. Bought my ticket back to Michigan in June
2. Paid 2 bills
3. Made and ate dinner
4. Completed my remaining financial aid paperwork
5. Wrote 2 important e-mails to professors that I'd been putting off for the past week
6. And last but not least my Japanese homework (the most student-like activity and I almost forgot to put it on the list!)

And now it's time to go to bed.

To bed to bed said Sleepyhead,

Let's wait a while said Slow,

Put on the pan said Greedy Nan,

Let's sup before we go.

My grandmother used to say that to me at bedtime when I was a kid and so I say it to you now . . . to bed to bed . . .

Where will you be in 10 years?

Usually I'm quite unconcerned with age. I take it in stride that most people think that I'm several years (at times even a decade) younger than I actually am. Other peoples' age doesn't really seem an issue to me either as I have friends across the spectrum. But today I did a bit of wigging out over age, although I guess really it was more about the passage of time than age to be precise. It was a rather foolish and embarrassing freak out and in retrospect completely unnecessary but that's usually the point of wigging out, isn't it?

Why the wigging out? Well, next year is my 10 year high school reunion. In preparation for this reunion people have started to get in touch and such over the internet. This morning I had a particularly dense onslaught of internet contact with former classmates and it sort of pushed me over the edge. I've stayed in touch with an array of friends from that time but there are people that I haven't heard from or seen in quite a while. And the pictures that I see now of them and the things that they have to say about their current lives is both uplifting and bizarre.

I realize that I've progressed down a rather different path in life compared to many of them but I hadn't expected their current lives to be so alien from my own. Some are married, and some have kids, neither of which is surprising at our age but they've all aged. That really doesn't clarify anything does it? I guess what I mean to say is that they look grown up, in a way that I don't think I am. Plus there is a certain quality to memories from that adolescent time in life, as though they will always remain unchanged and in technicolor and therefore so will the people in those memories.

So many times I'm surprised by life and I guess this is no exception. When I was in high school I don't think I considered very seriously where I would be in 10 years and perhaps that is why it catches me so off guard to find that life has progressed. Although had I imagined it that would not have necessarily made me more prepared, would it? Food for thought . . .

It's all gone

Yes, it's all gone. I've chopped off my hair. The stylist at the chair next to mine came back half way through the cut looked at the hair on the floor, then at the hair still on my head, and said, "I missed the massacre!" I would prefer to call it a liberation but to each their own. It was 9 inches from my neck hairline (we measured to see if it was long enough to donate but I was an inch shy) and it all got cut off. My head feels light and airy, and free! I haven't had my hair this short, above my chin, in nearly two years and I must admit that I'm enjoying it (well at least the 2 hours since I've gotten it cut). It'll definitely be interesting to see the reactions I'll get tomorrow at work and on Monday at school. People had noticed the difference between me wearing my long hair up (a habit to get it out of the way) and down, and kept asking if I'd gotten it cut etc. What will they say when I actually get it cut, and significantly too . . .

In other news, guilty yarn purchases . . . Weaving Works was having their annual 4 day Mother's Day Sale. I had to stop in and look around. I ended up getting some yarn to knit Anna a birthday hat and some lovely Colinette Tagliatelli merino tape to knit myself a scarf (I knit one for a friend and it was so lovely I couldn't resist!). Only 3 skeins though, I was quite proud of myself. Tomorrow I'll be working at the Mother's Day Sale at Acorn Street. I've heard that it gets a little crazy but I'm looking forward to seeing all the pretty yarn on sale . . . must exert maximum amount of self restraint and not buy tons and tons of yarn.

Bunnies make me happy

I should be studying for an exam, therefore I am procrastinating and posting . . .
Just a little something that made me laugh. I was using a Japanese to English translation website a while back and when I entered the address for a certain website to be translated, I ended up on a screen with this image:


I burst out laughing, it was so unexpected and so silly. I tried to get back to the same page again but apparently I could only mis-type the web address once. But now that I've found it again, I'd like to share it with all of you because as we all know sharing is caring.

I'm sick therefore you failed your exam, not really though . . .

Being sick is the worst. I don't know what I had but I was not a happy camper yesterday. It started in the wee morning hours and lasted all day . . . and a little today too. Completely tense muscles, body temperature alternating between freezing and feverish, and all the while a pounding headache, it made for a very miserable ol' me. But the worst of it was that even when I was passed out from exhaustion I was sick in my dream too! In my dream I was an assassin and I was on a mission with my assassin buddies but because I was sick and couldn't keep up they kept on dragging me here and there and then sticking me in prickly bushes when I needed to be hidden. So unfortunate . . . and so painful. I don't know how we were assassins because really we didn't seem to have a target and were just running around a giant wilderness where other people seemed to be having a pleasant barbecue but that's dreaming for ya.

Now that I'm feeling better though, it's back to the daily grind. I have to catch up on all the work I missed while I slept yesterday. This entails grading papers . . . massive amounts of papers. Grading makes me feel like an over educated elitist . . . or maybe the kids in the class really are just painfully simple. If you're in the class I apologize, I'm sure if you have the sense to find this blog and realize who I am you're not in the portion of the class that did abysmally on the exam. But what can I say when about a third of the class didn't even answer the essay question that was posed and the other third couldn't support their argument with a shred of evidence from lecture . . . so sad, but perhaps my expectations are just too high. Or maybe being sick is making me crotchety and hence a crotchety grader.

Friends or Rock? Rock!

Life has been a little crazy lately . . . 3 jobs plus grad school is really a recipe for insanity. I have the best intentions of posting regularly and then . . . well various things get in the way. For example, I had a fully formed rant that I was going to post about Buddhism and how some Western practitioners of Buddhism subscribe to a religion they don't fully understand and how that cheapens not only Buddhism but religion as a whole - the practice of religion without full knowledge of its past and present context seems irresponsible to me, but then again I'm not a devout practitioner of any religion (precisely because I would want to be a responsible and engaged practitioner). Anyway, I was really quite peeved about the whole thing after a discussion in class and I got home all ready to type away and then I got sidetracked by paying bills (how mundane!) and forgot all about my post. So it goes.

At the moment I'm faced with a dilemma of an entirely different nature though. I just realized that a rock show that I've been planning on going to for months coincides with a friend's birthday barbecue party. So what do I do? Rock show or birthday BBQ? This wouldn't even be an issue but for the fact that the BBQ is for a particularly fickle friend - a fair weather friend who has failed to be a decent friend (let alone a good friend) time and time again. Usually I would say to myself, "Be the bigger person, don't let their treatment of you influence the type of friend you are to them." But you know what, I'm tired of that. I'm tired of being the bigger person. I want to go to the rock show - the rock never lets me down! Plus its not just any rock show, it's Tapes 'n Tapes. Now, lest you're thinking that I'm a terrible friend (or perhaps even a terrible person) let me clarify that if this were any other friend or any other band I would be choosing the BBQ party without even thinking twice. That's saying a lot coming from someone like myself who is completely indecisive and often has to think of things five, six, or seven times, not just twice.

It all comes back to light bulbs

Um, so I'm sitting in the relative dark which makes it feel like it's late at night when I usually post but it's actually mid-morning. Why am I sitting in the dark then? Well, my light fixture went kaput this morning, with fanfare no less . . . the light bulbs went out with a bang (well not quite a bang but definitely a "sss-sshh-sping-POP" that was disturbing enough for groggy ol' me). And I can't find any spare light bulbs, poop!

I also suspect that today is the day I'm getting my not-so-wonderful exam back from previous post, ick. It all makes me want to crawl under my desk with some ice cream and sulk for a bit. Moments like this makes me feel oh so disgruntled . . . and agree most wholeheartedly with this lovely caricature that my cousin Lindsey sent me.

Same old antics

Yet again it is late at night and I am studying madly for an exam that I have tomorrow. I haven't entirely done all the readings for the class and I'm not entirely sure what quality of work my professor is expecting from us all. Under these circumstances you would think that I would take this a little more seriously, but no. All I can think about is the bag of yarn that I got at work today. New projects - that's all that fills my head. For those who are curious, I got some lovely sock yarn and some other colorful yarn to make gloves, one pair as a gift and one pair for myself. I should probably rename this blog Confessions of a Procrastinating Grad Student, it would be much more on the mark. In the meantime though, I'll wait as my poor printer is printing its little heart out and daydream about knitting tomorrow after my exam is done. For now though back to studying for that exam . . .

Chocolate, oh chocolate wherefore art thou so sweet and delicious?

Keeping with the theme of chocolate goodness, I was skimming through some of my favorite on-line spots and saw this little number on Chow. A top ten list of retro candy bars across America?! Yes, it's true. I'm sad to say (and slightly surprised) that I've only had one of these confectionery delights - the Idaho Spud. The one I ate was a gift from Bethany who had visited Idaho but they can also be purchased at the local drugstore (after all Idaho is a neighboring state). I quite enjoyed the spud. Everyone else had issues with it, a dislike of marshmallow, a dislike of coconut, etc., but I thought it was . . . well, special in its very own way. The only thing to take away from the joy of my spud was Bethany telling us that she had debated between the Idaho Spuds and t-shirts that said Darth Tater . . . need I say more?

Does Michigan have a retro candy bar? For that matter does it have t-shirts with witty word play referencing Star Wars? All I can think of as strictly Michigan is Vernors (which isn't entirely true anymore), Faygo, Superman ice cream (which I'm not even sure about), and Cake Batter ice cream. Two types of soda pop and ice cream, can they really compare to a candy bar? I don't know.

Bunny!

Today, I finally broke down and started to eat the chocolate bunny I got for Easter. Perhaps "finally broke down" is slightly misleading since it's only been a couple of days since Easter but you have to understand how much self restrain I had to exercise in order to not eat it right away. As a rule I eat chocolate bunnies head first. I've stuck to this pattern since I was a child. My mother once told me the story of how when I was five or six she gave me a chocolate bunny and I immediately bit off its head. She was a little shocked, I guess she thought I would have some qualms about eating the cute bunny. Apparently when she asked me how I could be so cruel as to just bight off the bunny's head, I said, "Mommy, its not real," and gave her a look equivalent to, "Don't you know anything?" and complacently continued to eat the bunny. Very telling, isn't it?

Anna got me a Lindt milk chocolate bunny, so delectably delicious! I was going to just eat the ears but I ended up eating its whole head. Now there's a decapitated bunny sitting on my shelf. It looks a little forlorn. But look at the picture, isn't it just saying, "Eat me! Eat me!" Just like the cakes in Alice in Wonderland.

Easter, weddings, old friends, and old flames

Let's start with Easter. It is a holiday I enjoy mostly for the candy. However, it's a little tainted for me compared to other candy based holidays because of the presence of the Peep. That's right, as some of you may know, I have strong objections to Peeps (if you missed my rantings on this topic they can be found here). However, this is their holiday of origination, if you will, and therefore I feel like I should give them a break. For that matter I will even direct you to this story that I heard on Weekend America which was both revolting and intriguing - listen to the story it's amusing.

Now on to weddings, there are several that I am planning on attending this summer. They come in clusters I've noticed. The thing that is troubling is that the majority of them are people who are younger than myself. It's not an envy thing, I haven't the slightest inclination to get married at this point in time, but it is a little disturbing to one's sense of balance and order. These certainly weren't the weddings that I had anticipated on attending at this point, I thought I would be seeing people my own age getting married first. It just seems like a natural progression, at the very least I expected a variety in the age range but not so. Strange and curious.

Finally, old friends and old flames. This evening I reconnected with an old friend (an old friend who is incidentally younger than myself and getting married soon) and that is always a pleasure. In our conversation we fill in the blanks since we last saw one another. And even with the passage of time, it is so easy to fall into the same pace of conversation. I like that. Along those lines, she asked me after an old flame of mine who also happened to be a mutual friend of ours. He is another person with whom I fall easily into conversation after long intermissions. It's funny since I haven't talked about him or thought of him in those terms, as an old flame (a lovely almost antiquated turn of phrase that I find rather charming), in a long time. He has since become a good friend, as he always was, but now he is that both in reference and in actuality. And perhaps I don't talk to him as often as I should but I know he will not bear a grudge, just as I know that we'll fall so easily into conversation when we do talk again.

Growing up, much like breaking up, is hard to do

When I was eight and people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up the question didn't seem quite as menacing as it does now. And even though I hate it when people ask me that question, I can't help asking other people. Does that make me a terrible person? Perhaps it's only terrible because I myself don't have an answer to that question. I grow more and more confused as to the answer as the years go by. Although one thing I have realized, it's not really what I want to be but who I want to be that's important. Jobs and careers may come and go but I will always be myself. I'm not too worried though (although perhaps I should be), I believe in serendipity, or if we want to be oh so practical we could say that I usually manage to iron things out.

When all else fails turn to music, and there's nothing like cheesy music from another decade to describe ones thoughts. I don't know why I thought of "Breaking Up Is Hard to Do" perhaps because it was on a mixed CD of oldies that I had as a kid. I'd forgotten how truly cheesy the lyrics were until I looked them up online. It was perhaps an era when music was just . . . well, simpler, for lack of a better word. So I shall leave you at that . . .

Don't take your love away from me
Don't you leave my heart in misery
If you go then I'll be blue
'Cause breaking up his hard to do

And the last verse, just for kicks . . .

I beg of you, don't say goodbye
Can't we give our love another try
Come on baby, let's start anew
'Cause breaking up is hard to do

So much to do, so little time

So, another quarter has started. I've had all of my classes and all I can say is that it's going to be a doozie. Tons of books, lots of reading, and exams upon exams - which oddly enough I'm not too rankled about as I'm feeling a little burnt out on papers lately and am willing to accept anything else. This quarter I'm resolved to turn a new leaf (as I am almost every quarter) to mend my procrastinating ways and start early on all things important - no more end of quarter madness. Will I actually make these changes? It's debatable, I always have such good intentions but well . . . it clearly hasn't panned out in the past so it may not this time either but I will try and try again, I'm nothing if not optimistic.

At the moment I'm feeling a little torn between reading for class, doing taxes, and reading my new book from the library. Taxes have taken a back seat to books, after all books are much more exciting than taxes (ick!). But should I read school books or fun books? I know I should read school books but fun books are just so much more . . . fun. It's like falling off the wagon at the first bump, how did I ever expect to make it the whole ride? Clearly at this rate if I can't prioritize serious school reading I'm never going to be able to turn a new leaf and be uber productive and avoid procrastination . . . oh dear.

The problem isn't ameliorated by the fact that I'm already in the midst of three fun books which I started over spring break.
The Earthsea Quartet - My father gave me this in high school and I finally decided to commit myself to reading it. I know that sounds strange, committing oneself to reading a book, but the circumstances under which it was given to me have a lot to do with that. My father gave it to me since I had so enjoyed the Lord of the Rings trilogy and it was of a similar genre and he thought I would enjoy it also. But I decided to not read it since I was afraid that it just wouldn't be able to compete with the Lord of the Rings. This fear is born from a similar experience I had with Jane Austen and Thomas Hardy. Hardy was recommended to me by my father since I had so enjoyed Austen but when I read Hardy, not long after I had whisked through several Austen novels, he just put me to sleep. In retrospect I may have not given Hardy as much of a chance as I ought but there it is, I wasn't impressed upon first trial. Anyway my point is that I didn't want to have that same experience with LeGuin and thought that perhaps a break from the genre altogether might be beneficial. Little did I anticipate that break to be years upon years. So, The Earthsea Quartet came back from Japan with me over winter break but I didn't even start reading it until a month ago - this is the sad state of affairs around here.
Persepolis - Note to Sherry: I can just imagine your exasperation, I know, I know. I'm finally reading it. It got buried under so many other books that it really didn't have a fighting chance until now. Besides, in comparison to The Earthsea Quartet this pace is downright speedy!
Time Was Soft There - I haven't gotten very far in this yet so I'm not entirely attached. But it sounded so lovely on the staff recommendation card at the bookstore that I was suckered into finding it at the library. It's about a bookstore in Paris called Shakespeare & Co., a store which I just fell in love with when I was there. It is the epitome of the bookstores that I daydreamed of as a child, scruffy around the edges, vast while being compact, and it is as much a visual feast as it is a literary one. Of course, the fact that it's on the banks of the Seine just across from Notre Dame doesn't hurt either. On a tangential note, how many kids daydream about old scruffy bookstores? What an odd child I was.

Do you see my dilemma? They're so fun . . . or at least full of the promise of fun. How could I decided between these three books and school books, let alone the new book that I got at the library today?

Have you been dreaming lately?

Just two notes from my dreams of late . . .

1. I'm stuck in an octagonal toaster and can't get out
2. The cheeky nerve of bananas only being sold in bunches but when I yank them apart because I want all my bananas to be individual fruit they reattach themselves!

Dreams are weird . . .

Stress eating commences . . .

Here's the list:
Goldfish crackers - Parmesan flavor
Green grapes
Oreo cookies
Ben & Jerry's -Fudge Brownie
Mint chocolate chip ice cream (yes, 2 types of ice cream)

Let's hope the list doesn't get any longer . . .

Before I crawl into bed with my crossword

It's Thursday night again. I've let a whole week go by without a post. I wish I could say I were guilt ridden but honestly it hadn't even crossed my mind. The end of the quarter is drawing near which means I'm insanely busy and haven't time to think about anything . . . except being busy. Oddly enough I think I spend as much time thinking about my busy-ness as actually being busy, if that makes sense - nothing really does lately. My brain has turned to mush and has taken on the characteristics of a sieve, all rather unfortunate.

My busy-ness is caused by the necessity to write papers. I don't really enjoy writing under pressure, ironic since that's basically what grad school is all about and therefore it is really all that I do these days. At the moment I'm writing (or contemplating writing to be exact, since no part of the actual paper is written yet) about the role of religion in Japanese social activism and the role of overseas development aid in Japan's foreign relations with its Asian neighbors. Those are two separate papers for two separate classes in case you're wondering what the two topics have to do with each other - a big ol' nothing is what they have in common. Any suggestions you might have on either topic would of course be welcomed.

But don't let me drone on about such academic topics that are of limited interest. Here are some light and fluffy thoughts that are completely unrelated but are at least amusing if not interesting:

1. My little 'lucky' bamboo is sprouting leaves out of its side! I'm so excited, especially because it lives in my dark cave-like room and I was fully expecting it to die from lack of sunlight.

2. I made chocolate cupcakes last week and they were just heavenly. But what was even better was that I made frosting to go on the cupcakes! It's been ages since I've had homemade frosting and it was so so delicious, I'd forgotten how different it tastes from store-bought frosting (which I hate). I know that it's bad for me (it really is just pure butter and sugar) but like most things that are bad for you, it tastes SO good. I was especially fond of the cream cheese frosting . . . yummy-licious. And a little frosting really goes a long way, I've been savoring it and having a little bit everyday on a piece of toast - don't knock it 'til you've tried it!

3. I now have giant holes in both my sneakers and my jeans (sadly this condition has actually existed for several weeks now, maybe even a month) - it's pathetic I know. I should get replacements for both but I haven't the time or energy to go shopping. I never thought I'd see the day when I didn't have energy for shoe shopping . . .

4. Lately my eyes have been bothering me. I think it's all the reading I've been doing combined with the dry air. It's as though they're rebelling against me and saying, "Let us the hell out of these damn sockets!" Coincidentally I was talking with a friend about glass eyes and we've decided that should one of my eyes successfully escape from its socket I should go for a wooden eye instead of a glass eye. It's so much more retro-chic and has a certain je ne sais quoi about it.

And that is all for now folks, I'll be going into social hibernation again until the end of the quarter at which point all my papers will be finished and I can lavish time on such things as e-mail correspondence, Internet browsing, reading non-academic tomes, and maybe even the viewing of films!

Oh, Mr. Darcy!

I'm just about to settle down to watch Pride & Prejudice. And yes, I know it's the middle of the night and I have class tomorrow but I don't care. I'm a grown-up (most of the time) and I can do whatever I want to! Besides who can resist the romance of Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy? I once read somewhere that Pride & Prejudice is the quintessential love story and that every other love story thereafter is just a different rendition of it. I don't know that I agree with that but there are certainly plenty of stories that have been modeled upon it. There are so many commentaries to be made on the novel and the novelist, not the least of which is the fact that Jane Austen was ahead of her time as a female writer, but I haven't time to go into it all here and now. I just want to say that despite what some people may say the sole appeal of the story isn't that it is a romance with a happy ending, there is so much more to it than that. Isn't part of the appeal that we can see ourselves reflected in one if not several of the characters in the story? It was written in a different time and place and yet the characters are still accessible to people today. I find that to be true of all of Austen's novels. Superficially they may seem to be love stories but each of them is a study of people, of character, and there is so much to be gleaned from that even now.

Okay enough with the sensible talking, I want to ooh and aah over the dancing and dresses at the ball and listen to Elizabeth and Mr Darcy's spicy repartee!

Seriously, corn dogs?

So, I've seen two people eating corn dogs in as many days. Now this wouldn't be odd if I lived say in baseball stadium or a beer tent but this is the U-district, granted college students don't have the best diets but I don't think corn dogs rank high on their list of favorite foods either. Besides who walks around eating corn dogs anywhere but at a carnival or as a guilty secret alone in their apartment? Personally I find corn dogs repulsive so maybe this is just a reflection of my bias towards them, can you blame me? They're totally unnatural, processed meat on a stick is one thing but processed meat on a stick covered in a hybrid between bread and batter is just wrong. Ick!

How does your garden grow

Anna got motivated the other day and went to the Swanson's nursery. When I came home from class there were stacks of pots and a large bag of potting soil on the dining table. Apparently she's planning on planting some tomatoes, green peppers, and chives. We really don't have very much natural light in the apartment so I don't know how the seeds are going to sprout but that's not for me to worry about. I'll leave that up to Anna's ambition.

What I have noticed though is that the eating nook and the hallway now have an earthy smell from the potting soil. I can catch wafts of it as I walk by. It wouldn't bother me except for the fact that being in a basement and smelling the scent of earth makes me feel like we live in an unfinished basement. And I am faced with the momentary fear that if I open my bedroom door I'll find an unfinished dark and dank dirt floored room instead of my cozy bedroom.

None the less the idea of planting things makes me feel like spring really is around the corner. The crocuses are out and in bloom here. It's the first sign of spring, right? I should be daydreaming of warm weather and wearing sandals and flowy skirts but instead I find myself thinking fondly of gardening and yard work. I miss having a real yard, not that I did a lot of yard work when I had one but at least I had the option of doing it if I wanted to. Options are important, even if I can't make decisions when I have options.

Being lost

Anonymous said...

I guess you are lost, caught in limbo between more than just japan and the midwest.

Yes, I am lost and I'll be the first to admit it. I'm lost and always looking for what is familiar, for where I am supposed to be. I search for certitude, even though I know it probably doesn't exist. But the idea that it could be out there is both comforting and intriguing. Does anyone have absolute certainty though? Isn't it only human to doubt ourselves? It would be frightening to have absolute certitude and have no doubts or questions of our actions, don't you think?

I think we are all a little lost. It's just a part of being alive.

Move me

I'm always surprised by how much art in any form can move me. Books that make me want to drop everything and travel to a far off place just to feel the air there. Music that makes me want to be in love. Films that break my heart and move me to true sadness. Stories that make me want to be a better person, to do more than I would have ever expected of myself or anyone else. Sculpture that bates my breath, making me feel as though I've seen beauty for the first time. And paintings, drawings, and photographs that transport me through every memory, reliving moments in my life so vividly that I can feel them all over again.

What is it that makes all of this so real to me? Sometimes I think that I should have pursued art. At various times in my life I wanted to be an architect, a poet, a musician, a photographer, a novelist, and a filmmaker, among other things. It's not too late to do any or all of these things. But there is a part of me that knows I couldn't, because I couldn't fight for them. Would I fight for what is beautiful as hard as I would fight for what is right and just? It seems an overly broad question, a question that in this context may not even make sense to anyone but myself. I think though that it's a question that is always in the back of my mind guiding the decisions that I make. I've loved beauty as long as I can remember but I feel duty toward what is right and just. Which is stronger, love or duty? They pull me in such opposite directions that I wonder if I'd ever be happy going just one way. Perhaps that's why I wander the middle ground.

Friday, Friday

Okay, so it's mid-day and I should clearly be concentrating on work but I just had to share. The sad thing is that I got distracted right after I started the post and now 20 minutes later I can't remember what it is that I was going to say. Sad or pathetic? My brain really is turning into a sieve. Or maybe its just a case of Friday-itis.

I'm feeling peckish

My, my, I have been remiss in posting lately. I'm feeling a little overwhelmed with school (and apparently I can't type either, I kept typing 'wchool,' 3 tries before I got it right!) at the moment and all I really want to do is sleep.

I've been thinking longingly of Japanese pastries lately. Two that stand out in my mind at the moment are the little manju shaped like chicks that are filled with sweet yellow bean paste


and dorayaki which are like little pancake sandwiches filled with sweet red bean paste and sometimes candied chestnuts.


They may not sound particularly scrumptious from that description but the thought of them with a cup of hot Japanese tea is making my mouth water.

Life, location, and disillusion

Sometimes I wish I were anywhere but here. At times I wish that I had a different life with different friends just to know what it was like. And then there are times when I wish I had a different life because I become disillusioned with what I have. Would life be different if I weren't here? Would the disillusion be less potent in a different place or in a different life? Probably not, but I still wonder.

Just follow your nose

I'm sick and tired, literally. I've caught a cold and my nose, throat, and even my ears hurt. It's that painful feeling as though someones run a cheese grader all over. My nose is running left and right and I can't go anywhere without my hankie. Which brings me to ask, why don't they make hankies out of softer material? And why hasn't anyone thought of the already-worn-in hankie . . . or perhaps the distressed hankie (since that's basically what distressed jeans are, right?)? Is that my next calling, to become the inventor and distributor of the distressed hankie? A tempting thought since I do like handkerchiefs but I don't know that everyone else likes them as much as I do.

Another question I've been pondering over the last couple of days, why does the sun feel so much warmer when it's shining on your back? Have you noticed that?

Homework is the enemy

In this moment I hate Japanese, not the language itself but . . . well yes the language, but more my language class and even more specifically my homework. In other words I hate homework, big surprise. It's just that it's particularly difficult today and I feel like my head is going to explode. We have to answer some mock job interview questions. These are questions that I have trouble answering in English let alone in Japanese, where my ever diminishing vocabulary (use it or lose it, and I'm losing it) puts me at a huge disadvantage. Ugh! UGH!

I hate that this is what bilingualism gets boiled down to, or more precisely it's what my bilingualism gets judged upon. I can talk about random unrelated topics for days but when people ask me serious questions I'm stumped, mostly because I want to express myself in a certain way (it's the latent perfectionist streak in me) but get all tongue-tied and can't, which makes me frustrated, etc etc. You get the picture.

In my head I keep urging myself on by saying, "This will be helpful in the future. You'll really need this." Sadly enough that is probably true of this, unlike many of the other things that I study in school. But I still don't want to do it . . . can't I just say the dog ate my homework and be done with it?

Dreams are weird

Highlights from my dream last night:

1. Being dive-bombed by a hooded, caped chipmunk
2. A life-threatening lack of dental floss

Need I say more?

Resolutions

I know it's already half way through January but I figured I can still discuss New Years resolutions since it's only two weeks into the new year. To be honest I haven't really been making resolutions for several years now. I never seemed to follow through on them, mostly because they have usually entailed making myself do something I really didn't want to do. Don't resolutions tend to be like that? How many people resolve to lose weight, stop consuming something like chocolate, meat, or soda-pop, or perhaps cut down on sugar, and then there are the work-out resolutions and drink more water resolutions, etc etc. I mean really aren't these things that we don't want to do or find hard to actually make ourselves do? I figure I need more motivation than the mere changing of a year to make big, hard changes like that in my life.

So, this year I decided to make resolutions that would be easy to follow through on because they are things that I actually want to do but just haven't been able to do a lot of lately.

Resolution #1: Go to more rock shows.
Resolution #2: Drink more good beer.

I kept it down to two simple resolutions. And what do you know, I'm already following through on my resolutions. I've already been to a rock show and I've definitely had more beer in the past 2 weeks than I had in the last 3 months of last year. So, I feel like my theory on resolutions is working out well so far. Plus I get to feel good about myself for following through on something as well as for doing things that make me happy - it's a win win situation.

Happy Birthday Blythe!

Happy Birthday Blythe!

I hope you had a sweet day even without birthday cake. And one of these days we'll actually spend one of our birthdays together, no?

It was such a gray day, such funny light, but lovely as Paris always is. I hope we get to go again some day (and perhaps next time my shoes won't fall apart!), since there's no one I'd rather explore Paris with than you. Besides, who else would indulge me with ice cream on Ile Saint Louis in the middle of winter? Miss you terribly.

Plunger . . . I love you, I love you not

It's been a long night, at least the last couple hours have felt that way. I've been wrestling the toilet, not literally . . . well maybe literally. The toilet is a little temperamental and I've been working away with the plunger. It's not a particularly pretty scene but it's reality. Well, the true reality is that dear Anna dropped several bobby pins and a pair of tweezers in the toilet a while back and let them get flushed instead of picking them out. The plumbing hasn't been the same since but there's no point crying over spilt milk. I'm debating whether to call a professional plumber or not. After all, I can only play plumber for so long before I lose my temper and start flinging the plunger at the kitchen sink. Maybe if I had a pretty plunger like this being an amateur plumber would be more fun.

Do I ever learn? Apparently not.

So, two hours ago I was all primed to do homework and be super prepared for class tomorrow but has that happened? Of course not. Instead I've been putting together a birthday package for a friend, eating chunks of chocolate from my hidden stash, wandering through cyberspace, and contemplating blogging. I'm also contemplating a brewery crawl, cutting my own hair, writing fellowship essays, and knitting mittens - although not necessarily in that order.

In other news the house two doors down from us has been replaced by a giant pit. That's right a pit. They tore the house down in a matter of hours (which left me somewhere between awed, impressed, and disgusted) and after the bulldozer-crane machine worked at it for a couple days all that remains is a double tiered pit. It's not entirely clear what's going to happen to the space (my vote is for a swimming pool, I mean they've already dug the hole right?) but I'd guess that they're building mini-apartments which means even more people to compete with for parking. Does that sound cynical? Well, what can I say, I'm cynical girl in a cynical world.

Another cynical procrastinator, exactly what the world needs.

How have I lived without technicolor afro dogs?

This just gives me the giggles, and it's even funnier if you understand Japanese (although it's still pretty funny even if you don't get the subtle comic nuances that are in Japanese).

Snow, sugar, knish?

While everybody else back east (or really back 'mid-west') is basking in the glow of uncannily warm weather - except for the very few ruing the un-wintery climate - here in Seattle it is freakishly cold. It snowed today . . . twice apparently, once in the morning and once in the evening. The evening snow was lovely, I was out walking at the time. There were nickle and dime size flakes of fluffy sticky snow that clung to everything and made the world look all winter wonderland-ish, like it had all been turned upside down and dipped in a sugar bowl. I love sugar . . . .

In other news, I reached a certain level of baking triumph. I made some rather tasty knishes. I think I've discussed my love of pocket like bread or dumpling foods and knishes fall into that category. My knishes had potatoes, broccoli, and onions inside and were simply delicious. I haven't quite mastered the wrapping up part so there was a bit of excess dough on top but that didn't bother me so much. The only tragic part about them was that in my hurry to eat them, I burned the roof of my mouth on the potato filling which was quite hot. Despite my food related injury I persevered and kept eating, really I couldn't stop which should probably be attributed to sheer stupidity instead of anything resembling perseverance.

Happy New Year!

It's just another gray morning here in Seattle but I'm sure in other places it's a fabulous new day full of sunshine and warmth, so much more welcoming of the new year. Why didn't I decide to go to school in a warmer climate?

Usually I party up New Years in style, mostly because I'm in Japan and New Years is a major holiday there, perhaps even the major holiday of the year. This year though I spent a quite and uneventful New Years sitting on the floor of my living room doing work and watching Emma. There's nothing like editing syllabi and Jane Austen to ring in the New Year. I'll make up for the lack of partying some other day I'm sure, but for now I'm content to go for a walk in the neighborhood and admire the empty bottles of cheap champagne laying in peoples lawns.

I miss central heating

So, I'm back in Seattle already. My two weeks in Japan went by all too quickly. And now, I'm left struggling with jet-lag in my oh so cold apartment. The trick with jet-lag is to force yourself into a normal sleeping pattern. But that's easier said than done . . . after all when I got back yesterday I made myself stay up until a 'normal' bedtime and then ended up sleeping for 16 hours! I've probably made my jet-lag even worse. It just means there will be more nights of puttering around the apartment in my PJs with cups of tea . . . much as I am doing now, puttering around in my slippers, wool socks, a scarf, and a sweater. Have I mentioned that it's cold in my apartment?

Yeay it's Christmas! Now let's eat cake . . .

That's right, in Japan Christmas cake is a big deal. I don't really know how it got started, possibly a European influence since its more common to celebrate with Yule Logs in Europe and the Japanese Christmas cake phenomenon could easily be an offshoot of that. Anyway, cake is big on Christmas here. In years past I've had every intention of getting the order forms and fliers advertising said cakes to prove that this really happens here, it's not just a crazy story I'm telling about Japan. But I never manage to do it, mainly because I get back to Japan too late in the season . . . apparently the week before Christmas is terribly tardy in the game for the true connoisseur of cakes. But this year dad and I decided to get a cake of our own. I managed to snap this shot of the lovely cakes in the case while being jostled by the little old ladies rushing to get bargain priced cakes. Last minute cakes sometimes go for half price, after all who wants a Christmas cake on the day after Christmas?

And this is our very own cake. You may have noticed that it's a strawberry shortcake. It's a little strange since strawberries aren't natural winter fruit here either but I guess that's what looks pretty on a cake. The little Santa is a completely edible sugar creation. It's hard to convey the size of the cake through the photo since there's nothing to compare it to but it's about the size of a small paper plate, a rather petite cake by American standards. There were some other equally lovely cakes in the case next to this one but I couldn't even get close to take pictures, Japanese grannies can be quite pushy and all elbows when it comes to a bargain!

Time is so elusive

So, I thought that winter break would mean more time for me to do all the things that I usually want to do but don't have enough time for like blogging, baking, writing letters, reading fun books, and knitting. But have I done any of those things? No. My blogging has been minimal, I've been getting lots of tasty baked treats from other people (thanks Kleo and Naomi!) but haven't made any myself, I haven't written a single letter (not even email!), I read one book on the airplane but that doesn't really count since it was particularly fluffy, and I left my knitting needles in Seattle since I didn't want to have to worry about traveling with them. The lack of knitting needles is particularly aggravating since my fingers have been itching to knit since it got cold outside. Now, all I want to do is knit socks and gloves! What do they say about the pastures always looking greener?

And have I mentioned the leaking ceiling? Ugh. In any case, the ceiling is still leaking. The building maintenance people apparently can't get to it until this weekend because they need to open a hole in our upstairs neighbor's wall and the only time they're available is this weekend! In the meantime we have to live with the sound of dripping water, a bucket in the middle of the hall, and newspaper all over the place. Bugger, bugger, bugger!

So, what am I doing with my time . . . that's a good question that even I can't answer. I spend a lot of time sleeping and puttering around the house in the middle of the night, oh the beauty of jet-lag. That's about it.

Feeling wonky

So, the trans-Pacific flight has been completed and I'm back in Japan, how lovely. It's strange isn't it, the whole idea of "flying" in a giant metal tube - after all that's basically what an airplane is. Much like how driving is sitting in a large metal box that you really don't have as much control over as you would think. Anyway, there was bizarre side-to-side turbulence during the flight and someone actually screamed! Usually there's just a collective gasp . . . equally strange. I was just happy that the food was identifiable and not just a dish of indistinguishable goo. And the fact that none of my luggage got lost was an added bonus.

What can I say about being back in Japan . . . well I've already been out to a delicious lunch, Indonesian food in Ashiya. As soon as I got home yesterday the ceiling started leaking in the entrance way. So now I get to talk to the building maintenance people - Dad's thrilled I'm sure since its one less task in Japanese he has to stumble through. Really, the leak is ridiculous. There's a bucket in the middle of the entrance! And newspaper wadded up in the corners to make sure it doesn't soak through the carpet. Ugh!

Jet-lag is making me feel extra wonky, this is in addition to the wonki-ness of not having had a proper meal or a proper night's sleep in close to a week because of intense paper writing and self seclusion associated with said writing.

Crash and burn Mondays . . .

I'm back! Where have I been? Well, nowhere really. I've just been sequestered in my room with my books for the last week and a half. It's the end of the semester and I was drowning in academic wordy garble. At the moment I'm functioning on 8 to 10 hours of sleep for the past 3 days. I know it's a far cry from the days of college when I would pull an all-nighter to crank out a paper but . . . well I really like my sleep and I'm not as youthful as I once was. But I handed in my last paper at noon today and now I feel elated beyond belief. A million paperweights have been lifted from my shoulders and I'm walking on cloud 22 and a half. I even indulged in a shopping spree . . . gasp! I know! I'm a broke grad student, who am I to go shopping? Have no fear I'm not spending myself into debt or anything. I just got a couple of essential items for the long plane ride tomorrow - a book of crosswords and a novel.

So, Monday was when I was starting to hit 'crazy town.' My usually calm facade was starting to get a crazy eyed glow. And inside I was going absolutely nuts. So, after I decided that turning in a better paper late was worth the letter grade I'd be losing for its lateness, I went into fuzzy logic mode and decided that if I was going to be torturing myself through another night of paper revisions I could eat whatever I wanted. I came out of the store with a giant bag of Cheetos, a package of Safeway brand Oreos (which are called Tuxedos, I'm partial to the ones that have vanilla cookies with chocolate and vanilla cream inside!), and an antioxidant fruit smoothie. This isn't my usual diet . . . they're all things I would consider a bit of a treat but . . . well it was crash and burn, so why not?

Now I need to pack my bag for my trip tomorrow. There's nothing like 10 hours on a trans-Pacific flight with 300 grouchy strangers to round out the week.

Another roadside attraction

I was walking home today and happened upon the severed pant leg from a pair of jeans on the edge of the sidewalk. Just one denim leg, all by its lonesome. How did it get there? Why is there just one? Inquiring minds want to know. Any ideas?

I hope the reference to the Tom Robbins book isn't completely lost. It does take place in the Puget Sound area. And I have found that since moving back to Seattle my roadside encounters with unusual items has been increasing incrementally. A couple weeks ago I came across a wet suit nestled up to the curb, but somehow that didn't seem quite so strange since we do get a lot of rain here.

Rock shows and tooth decay

Yes, I'm cold and tired but I'm also basking in the glow of having gone to a rock show. I've hardly been to any shows since I've moved out here (it's a crying shame, I know) so it was a nice change.

Who did I see you ask, why Tapes 'n Tapes of course. They were playing at the HUB, a slightly odd venue since they were playing in a ballroom, but hey a show is a show and it rocked. Actually, it rocked a little too much decibel-wise and I wished that I had some earplugs . . . I feel old when I say things like that but then again there's no replacing my eardrums so I've gotta take care of the ones I've got. Anna was saying something along those lines about her teeth today, some sort of need to cut back on sugar because her teeth were hurting (FYI, Anna is a candy fiend!). She was freaking out because one of her co-workers told her about how he's already lost several teeth (literally lost, as in they spontaneously fell out and there was nothing he could do about it) to his love of candy and sugar. I think the damage may have already been done for Anna, not to mention I don't know if she can kick her sugar habit completely.

Anyway, where was I before I went off on that tangent . . . oh yes, rock shows. So, Tapes 'n Tapes is especially exciting because I can actually say I know someone in the band! I think watching a rock show when you know the musicians adds another dimension to the interest of the show, wouldn't you agree? Plus it's just nice to see people making a living at something that clearly makes them happy . . . they really looked like they were having a good time and that made me smile.

So, here's to the gentlemen of Tapes - a round of smiles. Show off those pearly whites before the sugar gets to them and they spontaneously fall out.

Snow in Seattle?

Yes, it's snowing in Seattle . . .

It's fiercely cold in that damp, soaks-through-to-your-bone kind of way that characterizes Seattle winters. There's a little drift of snow outside my front door and it looks so pretty against the bamboo and the red berries on the tree whose name I don't know. The snow is wet and sticky, and is clinging to the bamboo leaves. If I look at it through the small viewfinder box I've made with my fingers, I can pretend that I'm in the Chinese highlands and that at any moment a panda bear will come sauntering through the bamboo thicket. The daydream is short lived though as the neighbors whoop and holler as they revel in the falling snow. That's definitely not what pandas sound like. I can only look forward to tomorrow when it will be bedlam in Seattle - in a city unused to snow, even this little sprinkling will wreak havoc if it sticks around.

Run turkey run!

I have been remiss in posting lately, haven't I? What can I say . . . there has been an onslaught of work lately and my head is just too full of academic nonsense to post anything interesting, unless you'd really like to hear about the value of social capital in Japanese neighborhood associations or the role of the Japanese government in disaster management. I know, it's just riveting isn't it?

So, Happy Thanksgiving! I hope everyone is eating lots of turkey or its dietary equivalent if you aren't a carnivore. Personally I love Thanksgiving for the pumpkin pie . . . yum! I love pie.

On this auspicious day of giving thanks and eating, I'd like to discuss some foods of interest. In accordance with my love of pie, I also enjoy savory dishes with pie like characteristics such as calzones, knishes, empanadas, and pasties. Basically foods that are wrapped in bread or dough are good in my book, they're so handy . . . a completely encased treat for optimal eating convenience(there are some exceptions, notably the corn dog . . . it's just scary and slightly weird). I am particularly fond of the Cornish pasty, those of you from Michigan should know what I'm talking about since one of the Upper Peninsula's official tourist attractions is Cornish pasty consumption. I'm so taken by the pasty that I'm seriously considering going to the pasty festival in Calumet just so that I can have lots of different pasties without having to drive all over the place. Another food festival that I'm curious to see is the pawpaw festival in Ohio. Anna told me about the pawpaw and I'm very intrigued, its a fruit of the banana family that is native to North America. It looks odd but delicious at the same time. Its supposed to have a custard like texture, if it tastes like custard too I'm sold! So, is anyone up for a 'taste testing' roadtrip next summer?

Poor kitty . . .

This was just priceless. I heard about it on Wait Wait Don't Tell Me this morning and despite feeling rather poorly (I have a cold. Damn those germy undergrads coughing and sniffling everywhere!), I had a giggling fit. Read it and you'll see, but for those of you who would like to keep reading this cryptic message . . . I'm as suspicious of voting machines as the next person but why did he have to use a little kitty? Then again who has a silver cat paper weight? Between you and me though, I think he could be starting a trend. Mark my words, next election day there'll be scores of paper weight yielding angsty voters. Spread the word. *smile*

She plays the tambourine

Me, disappointedly: "Anna, he plays 'sad bastard' music!"
Anna, laughingly: "Oh no"
Me: "I feel like telling him that he's going to have to take me on as his tambourine playing sidekick just so that I can rock it up a bit."
Anna: "How about playing a tambourine in a trench coat?"
Me, wryly: "Yeah, the trench coat will make it titillating because no one will know what I'm wearing under it."
Anna laughs
Me: "Actually, I think I should play the maracas instead. Tambourines are so passe."

Yes, I said tambourines are passe. You heard it here first. Really, some of the things that come out of my mouth . . . I don't even know where it comes from.

Maracas are the new tambourine. Just another Thursday night conversation at chez nous.

Raindrops keep falling on my head

I saw sunshine today for the first time in a week and I can't express to you how happy that made me. Despite what you may think, the 'shades of gray' don't refer to the Seattle sky or weather. Although it could have quite easily been referring to my state of mind the last couple of days. I knew that I was looking at a rainy winter when I moved out here, no illusions about that. But you'd think that someplace so used to rain would have the capacity to handle heavy rain, apparently not. Over the past couple days gutters have turned into streams and you can't step off a curb without looking to see how deep the puddle is and decide whether you want wet feet and shoes or really wet feet and shoes. I'm not exaggerating.

You'd think in an area where they get so much rain umbrellas would be more readily available. In Japan, umbrellas are so common they're treated just like any other accessory, like bags or hats. They have their own section in department stores and are sold year round, even sun parasols (not to be confused with beach parasols) are still quite common in Japan during the summer time. And the best part is that the umbrellas are fun! They're not all flimsy, collapsible, black numbers that are so common here. I remember the umbrellas I had growing up, they were memorable much like a favorite jacket or stuffed animal. One of my favorites had a red gingham check fabric and a wooden handle in the shape of a hippopotamus' head. And my grandmother's been using the same purple cotton eyelet sun parasol since before I was born. There is an umbrella subculture in Japan and I miss it - or maybe I just miss having umbrellas period. Why don't I have an umbrella here anyway?

I voted weeks ago. How about you?

Have you voted today? If you haven't you should because you know what they say, use it or lose it. It may not be today or tomorrow or even 10 years from now but if we don't get out there and exercise our right to vote, they might decided we don't really want it or need it and take it away. Call me crazy and paranoid if you want but I don't think the idea is too farfetched. Just remember that those of us who live in the US and can vote are a relatively small portion of the world population that has the option to vote for who and what we want, let alone to vote without the fear of the repercussions for voting the "wrong" way. So, get out there and rock the vote!

It's all mini - mini pizzas, mini celebrities

Alright, Irfan this time you actually did have a starring role in my dream - how happy are you? *grin*

Here's what happened, Irfan and I had to go get lunch for ourselves and 8 friends (apparently they weren't important enough to be in the dream although the number of people was very important). So, we drove around debating which grocery store we should go to and finally we decide on one with a super tiny parking lot (only room for 4 cars!). Once inside we split up because I was in charge of beverages and Irfan was in charge of food. For whatever reason I decide that we don't really need beverages and decide that I should help Irfan pick out food. I find Irfan in the deli section, except it wasn't so much a deli as it was 6 giant stainless steel industrial ovens in a cluster. Irfan is, as usual, super excited about his selection of food and insists that I take a look inside the box he's prepared while he gets something out of the oven. I look in the box and find that Irfan's selected 8 tiny slices of pizza, each could fit in the palm of my hand, and 2 tiny burritos, which for some reason aren't folded up but instead stuffed into Dixie cups. Obviously at this point my eyebrows are raised and I'm giving Irfan a cynical look, "That's it? This is what you chose to feed 10 ravenously hungry people?!" Meanwhile, Irfan is excitedly heating his own mini pizza slice in the oven but insists on watching it with the oven door open, which incidentally, he happens to be laying on as though it's a piece of furniture. At this point I say, "Irfan, careful you don't burn your eyebrows off," to which Irfan replies, "Don't worry, I won't do that again." In reality I don't remember Irfan having ever burned off his eyebrows so I don't know what that's about. Irfan, that hasn't happened to you, has it?

Anyway, at this point, as can only happen in dreams, we're instantaneously transported back to wherever it is that we came from. I still can't see the other people that we're hanging out with but we're sitting at a rectangular table that in my mind is most definitely a poker table. It actually looks sort of like a foosball table, because the center is sunken in and the sides have a considerable lip. The surface is green like a games table and everyone's cards are propped up against the lip of the table facing outwards so that you can see everyone's cards but your own, bizarre no? Anyway, the strangest part was that as part of the game there was a miniature Owen Wilson frantically running around the table moving everybody's cards! Not a robotic miniature but a real live Owen Wilson who was only 3 inches tall! And that's when I woke up.

How weird is that? I don't even know where to start . . . except to say that if I could, I really would like to have a miniature Owen Wilson. And I wish I could remember what this bizarre version of poker was because the whole idea of playing an entire game without seeing your own cards seemed crazy and yet wildly exciting.

There's no accounting for taste

It's the wee hours of Friday and I feel that it's only appropriate that I should start the day off with a lovely list of 5 random things. Today's list will be . . . five foreign musicians or bands that are hugely popular in Japan (to this day) for reasons that are beyond me, well that's not entirely true . . . but oh whatever.

1. ABBA
2. The Beatles
3. Queen
4. Elvis Presley
5. The Carpenters

Doesn't that seem like an odd bunch? The only thing that they have in common is that their songs all have relatively easy lyrics, in the sense that even if you didn't know what the words meant you could still recognize them. They're all of a certain era too. And they're not all necessarily very quality writers either, not that I'm knocking their skills but have you actually listened to ABBA lyrics? They're certainly catchy but they really make very little sense.

On this list I find Elvis' presence to be the most amusing. Not only is he an American icon but he also happens to be the former Japanese Prime Minister Koizumi's favorite musician. In the heyday of Koizumi's popularity he released an album of his favorite Elvis tunes. Mind you, Koizumi didn't actually sing or do anything on the album besides pick out the songs. Isn't that bizarre? And of course how can we forget that he burst into song while visiting Graceland with President Bush . . . oh such priceless moments. I can only hope that the new Prime Minister Abe comes out with a compilation album of his own.

Elephants and monkeys and spiders, oh my!

This morning I've been doing a bit of e-mail catch up and blog reading. I know I just said e-mail catch up but that doesn't mean that anyone should actually expect e-mail from me, I'm not that on the ball yet. So, I was reading all about D's adventures in southeast Asia and, dare I say it, I'm slightly envious. I know that in theory I've just settled down for the foreseeable future but it sounds so exciting to be navigating the cities and outback of Thailand and Cambodia. As much as I love being at "home" I will always be plagued by wanderlust.

Fire in the hole!

. . . and I mean that literally. I caused a minor fire in the apartment today. All I wanted to do was bake some chocolate chip scones, I have a great recipe and I've been craving them for days. So, when I came home for my lunch break I set about baking. To make a long story short, when I opened the oven to check on the scones, flames came leaping out at me. Now, don't worry I didn't panic. I quickly closed the oven door to make sure the fire stayed relatively contained and then I turned off the power to the oven. For a split second I debated between practicality and extra precaution, the latter being the choice to use the fire extinguisher. Practicality won out in the end. I figured that if I used the fire extinguisher on the flames I'd have to tell our landlord about it and then something would have to be done 'professionally' to the oven and I really didn't think that I could handle that financially . . . plus it was a relatively tiny fire . . . I think.

Anyway, what did I do, you ask? I took a quick look at the flames again to make sure it wasn't electrical items burning and then took a mug of water and flung the contents at the flames. Probably not the best choice and I can just hear the collective gasp of horror that's coming out of you all as you read this. The water did the trick though and out went the flames. The apartment was filled with smoke and even now, hours later, still smells slightly smoky . . . although more like bonfire than oven fire, which is kind of nice. And the icing on the cake is that the scones still turned out wonderfully despite being licked by flames! It's not the way I would recommend baking them but if I added, "Don't do this at home kids," to the end of the story I feel like it can be like any other public service announcement. All's well that ends well though, the fire is out, the oven is fine, no one got hurt and I don't have to pay to replace an appliance that I can't afford in the first place. I will be cleaning out the oven thoroughly though so that there isn't anything else that can catch on fire and I think I make take a hiatus from baking just as a precaution.

I heart candy and pumpkins

Yet again I'm blogging when I should be working . . . oh the procrastination gene is my bane! But what can I do? It was inherited and I have no control over it, *sly grin* although I'm sure my father would protest.

Halloween has crept up on me this year. A quick trip to Target this evening proved that I was clearly behind the times, most of the decorations had long since been swiped up and I wasn't impressed by what was left behind. Rubber heads with pre-recorded creepy voices and glowing eyes that move a little when you press a button are so uninspired as a decoration and left me wanting more. Not that I'm a Halloween fanatic but I must admit that I do like Halloween for these two reasons: 1) The candy 2) The pumpkins.

So, pumpkins . . . well, they're just fun, aren't they? Their subdued shades of orange seem so appropriate for fall, cozy and warm. And of course there's pumpkin pie, a favorite of mine, and roasted pumpkin seeds too, such yummy treats for this time of year.

And any excuse to have lots of candy, especially chocolate, is great in my point of view. The notable exception to this being Easter. Easter is tainted for me by its inextricable association with Peeps, which (as Sherry knows only too well) I absolutely HATE! They are creepy and unnatural, should we really be eating something that can be run over by a steamroller and still regain it's former shape? Absolutely not. And the colors are absolutely garish too. Items in shades of neon pink and yellow should never be consumed. I mean please, there's a reason why neon fashion didn't make it past the 80s, it was nauseating and horrifying to look at, let alone eat!

Okay, now that I have that little rant out of my system . . . a happy Friday to you all. And if you are celebrating Halloween early over the weekend, as many people are, Happy Halloween.

The vivid unreality

There was a time when I had extremely vivid dreams on a regular basis. And when I say vivid I mean sometimes I wasn't sure if I had merely dreamt things or if they had actually happened . . . which is frankly unnerving. It's been a while since I've had such a vivid dream but last night's was a doozy. Not that it was elaborate, just so realistic that I was really confused when I woke up this morning. In the dream I was with Sarah and Carolyn and we were riding in a steam engine locomotive with a chef (in full chef garb) and some guy dressed up as Abraham Lincoln (minus the beard). Now, this wasn't just any ol' locomotive, we were in a train carriage made out of a hot-air-balloon basket. And even though everyone else was nicely dressed I was wearing my pajamas . . . but not the pajamas that I was actually wearing as I slept, if that makes sense. Anyway, the locomotive was traveling across plains of tall amber colored grass and it looked so beautiful, then we suddenly crossed a large river and the water was glittering in the sunlight and I was breathless from the perfection of it all. At which point we plunged, locomotive and all, into a futuristic tourist village enclosed in a giant glass arcade with too cute to be real antique storefronts. That's when I woke up . . . although I swear I saw a giant Christmas tree out of the corner of my eye before I woke up, and it wasn't anywhere near Christmas time.

Sometimes I wish we had more control over what we dreamed about . . . be with people that we miss or see places that we have yet to go to or return to places we've enjoyed. But the completely random nature of dreams is what makes them so amusing in the first place, so perhaps having such control over them would render them pointless, just another daydream. Either way, when dreams can be so sweet it's hard not to wish that we could stay in that unreality rather than to open our eyes to the reality that is our lives.

TGIF

Heavens to Betsy, it's Friday! How does the week go by so quickly? It was just Tuesday . . . and now it's Friday. Anyway, I should be reading an article for my next class but I'm being indulgent and blogging instead. Besides reading the article would mean printing some of it out and my ink cartridge has been dying a slow and colorful death. I ran out of black ink the day before yesterday and the paper I printed out for class this morning started out in navy and slowly faded to a mauve-ish violet color. I hope my professor has a sense of humor about it.

Something special for Friday . . . well, for some reason the acronym TGIF always makes me think of ice cream and since I had a lovely homemade ice cream sandwich after lunch I'm going to make a short list (in no particular order) of ice cream flavors that make my world go round. Please add or suggest at your leisure . . .

1. Strawberry Cheesecake
2. Cake Batter - which I've only ever had in Michigan
3. Butter Pecan
4. Mint Chocolate Chip - but not the artificially green kind b/c that's a little scary
5. Moose Tracks (or Traxx)
6. Neapolitan - a classic; three flavors in one, what more could you ask for?

Purple waves

It's such an autumnal day today. There's a chill in the air and a haze is draped over the city hiding the building tops. I can feel the cold in my bones and that's the true sign that winter is coming in Seattle. Sarah sent me pictures of snow in Michigan and crazy though it sounds, I'm slightly envious. I know that I won't see snow around here this winter except on the mountain peaks in the distance.

As I was walking through campus earlier today I saw two bridal parties taking photos on the grounds. It's definitely a pretty spot, especially with the leaves changing colors now. It was funny though since there were tailgaters everywhere in anticipation of the football game. The contrast between the bridal parties and the purple clad sports fans . . . well you can imagine. Have I mentioned yet that I love that purple is one of UW's school colors? I think it's just great, mainly because I like purple but also because it means that everyone else wears purple around here too. So, on game days like today there are just seas of people in purple. How cool is that? I would probably be highly amused by the fans at the stadium but I don't follow the football, too bad.

It's Wednesday

It has been far too long since I last posted. I haven't got a good excuse . . . maybe that school is keeping me busy or in reality kicking my tush. Just a few random thoughts from life lately.

Academic reading can be fascinating at times and dry as day-old bread crumbs at others. Sometimes though we're fortunate enough to run across little gems hidden in amongst the wordy muddle. Just such a gem that I encountered lately,

"Are low trusters social idiots?"

Yes, really. I didn't think the word "idiot" could be used in academic writing, but there it was. And no, low trusters aren't social idiots in case you were wondering.

And in random people sitings, I saw the Shoebox Greeting Card granny. You know who I'm talking about, the sassy old granny with the wavy white hair and sunglasses who is always on the Shoebox Greeting cards. I know she's supposed to be a fictitious person but I saw her . . . except she had shorter hair. She was waiting to cross the street with me in front of the hotdog shop on 45th. I wanted to say something to her just to see if she'd comeback with a saucy remark but thought better of it. After all, actually talking to her could have ruined my little encounter.

I bought yarn for myself for the first time in ages, it seemed so extravagant. With a limited income of late, I've only let myself buy yarn that would go into gifts for other people. But since I moved to Seattle without my stash (well, a very small portion came with me) I don't have any yarn to play with, so indulged myself and got a beautiful hank of Manos del Uruguay which I've been eyeing covetously for ages. Now, I have to fight the urge to knit or at least fight it until I've done my homework for the day, then out come the knitting needles and it will be time to play!

The leaps and bounds of my brain

I forgot how dry the theory of social sciences can be and despite my best efforts to the contrary my mind starts to wander in class. We were discussing the comparison of nonprofits internationally through nonprofit organizations with worldwide chapters. Someone raised the example of Greenpeace and how it was started in the UK but spread worldwide through chapters in different countries. Since the course focuses on civil society in Japan, our professor connects the example back to Japan by saying that we could compare the Greenpeace chapter in Japan with those in other countries. Oddly enough this is where my mind went off on a totally ridiculous tangent. In my head, all I could think about was how in Japanese Greenpeace has the same phonetic pronunciation as 'green peas' which is what peas are commonly referred to there. Now, I can only imagine that the chapter of Greenpeace in Japan has to deal with a lot of miscommunication regarding it and the consumption of peas. Here my brain automatically connects the phonetic blip of peas with Pocari Sweat, a popular Japanese sports drink that they tried to launch in the US but failed miserably for what I would think are obvious reasons. I mean, who wants to drink anything called 'Sweat'? Although, people do seem to enjoy Pimp Juice and Crunk which sound equally distasteful to me. But what I really want to know is, how did I get from peas to Pocari Sweat?

PS - If you go to the Greenpeace Japan website, please know that when they say the "True Food Prize" went to Bourbon they are in fact talking about a snack food manufacturer, not the whiskey beverage. Though I'm sure there are those who would argue that bourbon is indeed a true food.

Ships in the night

The concept of the soul mate is so nebulous. I think some of us can spend lifetimes pondering their presence and existence. Have you ever thought that you've met your soul mate? If we are so lucky, then I feel that surely we must know and recognize our good fortune beyond a doubt.

The other day I met someone who, had we been in a different time and place, would have been my soul mate. Our interaction was not long but everything that was said had a profound resonance, it was so easy without intention and comfortable without effort. In the here and now though, we are strangers who had a chance meeting, ships passing in the night only glimpsing the far off glitter of lights reflected in the calm dark waters.

In every stranger lies the promise and possibility of a friend. In every friend lies the promise and possibility of a soul mate. So, how is it that the shadow of a soul mate can be seen in a stranger too? I have had some of the most truthful, meaningful, and heartening interactions of my life with relative strangers. With ever growing conviction, I believe in the true and extraordinary kindness of strangers.

Princess Procrastinator

School has barely started and I'm already behind! Well, not entirely . . . if I can actually finish the 100 plus pages that I have yet to read for class tomorrow then I won't be behind. However, I have only 15 hours until that class begins and I intend to sleep for the next 8 hours and then go to another class for two hours . . . so really I don't see this reading getting done. Whoever said there were 24 perfectly usable hours in a day was seriously deranged, as can only be expected from someone who doesn't treat sleep as a valuable commodity. Some of you (notably Blythe) may chide me for leaving my homework till the last moment and reverting to my old procrastinating ways but I assure you this wasn't done intentionally. And I certainly have no intention of sacrificing sleep to get work done, the days of pulling all-nighters have come and gone. I really don't think I could manage it anymore, and ridiculous though it may sound coming from someone in their mid-20s, I'm too old for that shit! Procrastinator or not this princess needs her beauty sleep.

Now I can go to Morocco

Alright, I'm back in Seattle and feeling the crunch of grad school. However, that's not stopping me from doing superfluous research. After my previous post regarding the purchase or trade of myself for a thousand camels I was curious to know how much a camel really goes for. I found that the market is rather varied and is dependent upon age, gender, and type of camel - if you're interested take a look here. For example female bactrian camels go for much more than male dromedaries. Actually bactrians appear to be more expensive in general, who knew that having one more hump on your back could make you so much more valuable - if only that were true of humans too.

Anyway, it looks like my going price could be anywhere between $5 million and $30 million . . . not too shabby, although I'd like to think that I'm priceless *cheeky grin* We should have asked for the details of the transaction before turning the salesman down. Carolyn was really passing up on quite a fortune and now instead of being a millionaire she's merely made it onto the shortlist (or short list, for it consists of only one person) of people I would be willing to travel to Morocco with. Call me crazy but the big fear holding me back from going to Morocco has always been that I would end up going with someone who would inadvertently or maybe even purposely sell me to the Bedouin tribes. Although now I'm starting to think it wasn't such a crazy fear afterall . . . I mean we were pretty sure he was joking, but being pretty sure isn't the same as knowing he was joking.

How much for that camel in the window? And I'm not talking about the cigarettes . . .

So yesterday, I went with Carolyn to buy a going-away present for one of her co-workers. We ended up in a little Egyptian imports store that shall remain nameless for reasons that will become evident later. As we walk in the salesman motions us towards the jewelry counter where he's standing and proceeds to dab our wrists with scented oils so we can smell them as we browse around. I think it would be safe to say that Carolyn and I both rued the moment we let the oil touch our skin, we reeked all day even after vigorous scrubbing with soap. Anyway, we're browsing and making polite chitchat with the guy and end up back at the jewelry counter where Carolyn decided on getting a pretty pendant. It sounds simple enough but even picking out the pendant was an endeavor with the salesman chatting us up . . . especially with questionable conversation topics which included a discussion of 'the key of life' and him vehemently refusing to believe that I was 100% American before I had said anything at all let alone something that could be refuted. Finally, the pendant has been paid for and we think we're going to make it out of the store but we're accosted yet again and the salesman insists on giving us his card. At the door he turns to Carolyn and says, "You know your friend is very pretty," and since I can't take a compliment I just smile and feel embarrassed thinking that'll be the end of it but he goes on, "If we were in Egypt I would make you an Egyptian offer, I'd give you a thousand camels for her." If my face weren't frozen in an awkward smile my jaw would have dropped to the floor. Really, I know he was joking but that may have been the most ridiculous comment of the day. Carolyn laughed and said, "No." Thank goodness. Someone needed to say no and I don't think I had the wherewithal to do it.

As we were walking down the sidewalk all I could think was, "How much are a thousand camels worth? Was Carolyn getting a lowball deal?" Silly me, camels are notorious spitters and I don't spit at all, so clearly I'm worth more than a thousand camels - at least that's my logic and I'm sticking to it. So, the moral for today is: if you go into an Egyptian import store be a good friend and don't sell your shopping buddy for a thousand camels.

America's High Five

My cousin Sarah has a t-shirt that says "Michigan, America's High Five" with the outline of Michigan - I think it's pretty great. Anyway, the high five state is where I am at the moment. I've been looking forward to this trip back to Michigan for a while now, which is unusual since I'm almost always pretty ambivalent about trips and traveling because it doesn't seem real until I'm actually at my destination point.

Being in Michigan is just so comfortable or maybe it's that my house and Sarah & Carolyn's house are in my comfort zone, whatever the case it's nice to be back. It's all very much like slipping into a particularly comfortable pair of shoes that you'd like to wear all the time but you know aren't entirely practical for everyday wear. Everything in life can be brought back to food and shoes . . . really.

1/3

My life in fractions . . .

One third daydreaming
One third indecision
One third reality

I probably spend too much time in indecision and not enough time in reality but with the state of the world today reality is a grim spot and daydreams are so comforting. It's not that I don't care, with war and terrorism always looming it's hard not to care, but worrying and fretting about things I have no direct control over is futile. As for my indecision it's probably something I should work on, it has always been a problem for me. Melanie told me about a former employer who based his day upon his horoscope so that he wouldn't be troubled by indecision. An interesting solution to the problem . . . although I don't think I could make that leap of faith with astrology it is a tempting alternative.

Waiting is the worst

A watched pot never boils, similarly anticipated e-mails never arrive when you wait for them. I took a placement test earlier today and was told that I'd get the results later by e-mail . . . I'm waiting with baited breath and checking my e-mail every 3 minutes but there's nothing. I'm not interested in my actual scores, I have no doubt that my performance was mediocre at best, but I want to know what class the scores will place me in because that will determine my schedule for the next semester and with a set schedule I'll be able to make a myriad of decisions about my life. How can so many things depend upon the scheduling and placement of one class? Is it something I've made up and given extra significance? Or is it that it is the key piece of a puzzle that makes everything else fall into place? I'd like to think its the latter. The last couple of years my life has had so little order and structure, and now I find myself impatient for the return of routine and some type of framework to my life.

I'm still waiting . . . still no e-mail.

It's very much like a movie in my head . . .

Doesn't everybody have an internal dialogue going on at all times? Apparently not. And no soundtrack either? What goes on in other people's heads if there isn't dialogue or a soundtrack?! I'm baffled. I have both, it's very busy in my head. There is always a hypothetical conversation going on with me and whomever in addition to the actual conversation that is being had at the moment. This may be the root of my problem of hearing things wrong, sometimes actual conversations and the inner dialogue get mixed up and what I end up saying makes no sense. Another problem is that I can't remember which conversations were real and which were only in my head so I can't remember what I've actually told people and what I imagined I told people . . . so confusing. I manage to keep it all pretty organized but sometimes it gets a little out of hand, can you see why it's hard being me sometimes? Although I do rather enjoy the personal soundtrack . . .

. . . and little people

As I was typing the previous post I was watching a little boy and his dad going in and out of the library. The kid is absolutely fascinated by the turnstile at the entrance and no sooner has he gone through it before he's running to the exit, going outside, coming back inside, and going through the turnstile again. What I find amusing is that the kid is barely tall enough to clear the turnstile with his head, he doesn't need to push through it he could just walk under it. I can here the little "tap, tap, tap" of his shoes as he scampers along the tiled library floor making his way from turnstile to exit. His dad has clearly had enough of this game but looks on indulgently. Kids are so easily amused . . . as am I really, maybe that's why we get along so well.

The little things

As I settle into life here I find myself missing little things about Michigan, or to be exact life in Michigan. When I think about not knowing when I'll be able to experience those things again I feel doubly sad and a little hollow inside.

These are some of the things I miss . . .

The harvest moon hanging low over the cornfields.
Everyone at the post office knowing my name.
The sun setting over Lake Michigan.
The subtle creak of the trees as they sway in the wind.
Sailing on White Lake on a crisp October morning.
The muffled sound of winter under a blanket of snow.
The way there is always a country road to be explored on a sunny afternoon.
Walking on deserted beaches as the wind blows against my face.