Songbirds

I'm not exactly sure what this will do: presumably link you to one of my playlists from Rhapsody.

RHAPSODY Link

[Edited to add: Oh. Apparently you have to have Rhapsody (an online subscription music service) for it to work.]

Fall colors

I'm sitting at my table after driving back from Mena in the rain, eating windmill cookies nicked from home, drinking tea, and trying to motivate myself to grade papers. Sigh.

A little experiment: photos! This is really what I'd use a blog for. Pictures I took around Little Rock with my new early Christmas present.

One internet junkie's trash...

Yahoo! News - Packrats Recycle Their Clutter Online

I was a participant in freecycling long before I knew it was a phenomenon and had a name. It's just such a natural thing to come out of the way we form communities online now. I didn't know things as large as refrigerators, leaf blowers, and pianos were being freecycled, though. Wow.

Homecoming weekend

I went home this weekend for Mena's football homecoming. Well, you know, band homecoming. Somebody put something together for the band alumni. There was a reception, which was held in the choir room. There wasn't really anybody there who knew what was going on, but the band mothers had left a huge spread of party food on some tables against the wall. (Cocktail weenies, vegetables and dip, grapes, cookies, sausage balls, triangular lunchmeat sandwiches on white bread with the crusts cut off, tortilla chips and cheese dip. I had five grapes, a cucumber slice, and a baby carrot.) But Mr. Gray was there, so I hugged him and met his new wife Carol. She used to teach ESL in Chicago. About ten of us alumni showed up before the game, with our instruments, and Mr. Gray directed us in a couple of easy marches. He didn't figure it was even worth tuning first (I wish we had), and our lips were nearly shot after one play through, but it was so fun. We were to perform our march in the stands in the third quarter of the game, but I guess the rain-like mist sent Mr. Gray home, because it didn't happen. Mama and I sat in the stands with the Hatfield clan, who were watching Samuel, and waitied. Ah well. I didn't care where we played, as long as we got to do it at least once. That practice was great.

There are still relics of me and my classmates in the bandroom. Contest plaques, pictures of the all-state band members from each year, even a motivational poster I made with a relevant phrase from some year or another. The place hasn't changed much at all. It wasn't strange being back. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. I still have dreams about being in band.

The current band stayed in the bandroom during most of the game, avoiding the mist, and performed their halftime music standing on the track in front of the field: no marching. Boy, back in the day, the only time we ever packed up and went back to the bandroom was one night, after our halftime performance, when it was (literally) freezing and snowing. We marched in rain, we marched in mud. I lost a shoe in the sucking mud one time and had to limp back out onto the field when we were finished performing, to retrieve it. Mr. Gray made sure we were of tough stuff, and we might have complained but we were proud of it.

The preceding paragraph brought to you by Old Band Fogies United.

Saturday I visited with Andy and Jess and Allie. Jessica is cleaning out the study to be Layla's room, so we worked on Allie's room a little to make space. Allie agreed to watch some of Return of the Jedi with me. I'm trying to cultivate an appreciation of Ewoks, if nothing else, but she latched right onto Luke, Leia, and Han. Good girl.

We all had supper at the Chopping Block, where the waitress was confused by my request for hot water. Whatever. She also pronounced the "l" in "salmon." It's always a fun meal though, eating together. Back home we had lemon birthday cake that Jess and Allie (and Andy!) made. Allie performed various dances and songs, including "Baby Got Back," and we tormented Truman with a battery-powered toy car.

It rained all weekend, but that just made things cozier. I'm sure the poor cows didn't find it cozy, though. The mamas were bellowing for their weaned babies 24 hours a day.

More than some pretty face beside a train

I'm surprised and unexpectedly sad about Christopher Reeve's death. It's always hard to get used to the new world, when someone who was there, now is not.

Superman is one of my comfort movies, the kind I can pop in the VCR and keep on when I'm working late at night and need familiar, well-loved background noise. I saw Somewhere in Time at a pretty early age, too. But I'd really gotten accustomed to Christopher Reeve's new voice, the one assisted by a respirator and later softened by his position in the chair. It was more invincible, palpable with love and conviction.

Predictably, I've had Five for Fighting's song "Superman (It's Not Easy)" running through my head all day.

Cool your heels, Bruce Willis, this one ain't hitting earth

Yahoo! News - Huge Asteroid to Fly Past Earth Wednesday

I wish I knew more about astronomy. It excites me.

Study: Living in the Suburbs Can Make You Sick

Yahoo! News - Study: Living in the Suburbs Can Make You Sick

This study "defined sprawling suburban areas as those with poorly connected streets such as cul-de-sacs, separated areas for schools, housing and shops and a lower population density." Wow, does that sound familiar. It found (surprise!) that people in those areas had poorer overall health because of greater rates of obesity. Lack of exercise, don'cha know.

Would that it were easy to just "build cities where people feel comfortable walking and are not so dependent on cars." Makes me want to go into civil engineering. Or somehow convince all the civil engineering programs in American universities to teach this philosophy to their incoming students, so maybe in 50 or a hundred years...

Fleeing, Reece's Pieces

Yesterday I went out to run in the evening, like I usually do. When I cross the road from my apartment, I'm still up the hill from the hospital complex, and I have a good view of the entire south-southeast perimeter. Last night I looked down, and the sidewalk on the south edge just looked like it was swarming with people out walking and jogging. I felt like I'd never seen so many. I just couldn't handle people, especially that many. I turned around and ran the other way, up the long hill, past the firehouse, to the corner with the tobacco shop and liquor store and the two gas stations. Not as scenic, not as long a route, but no people either.

The secluded cul-de-sac where I found passion flowers earlier in the season is still heavy, almost syruppy, with honeysuckle scent.

Today was a little better in general. I was unusually tired all morning, almost like my body was telling me it was getting sick. Maybe it was really just saying I need more sleep. I don't know. But the afternoon was nice. I have a graduate student practice teaching with me, and she usually takes one of my classes during the afternoon. It's nice, but it also results in my feeling like I can't get everything done I want to. This week, she switched a class with me, so I had the students for both periods today. The afternoon period was so much fun. We were all playful, the students were involved, I felt like things were clicking more than they usually do in the morning. Maybe it was the Reece's Pieces I threw at them, maybe it was phrasal verbs, which are a pretty fun grammar item. Maybe they were just awake. Anyway, it was nice.

Laundry list of whine

I've been really off my game. Yesterday, teach, plan lessons, teach, home, eat, grade papers, fall asleep, wake up, grade papers, lock self out of apartment at night, exercise, grade papers. Check email, eat crappy cookie, go to bed. Today, change that up by completely forgetting to teach my hour in the language lab. And letting myself run out of clean underwear. Also I can't seem to put anything down on a surface without it falling off. I got out of the shower and turned on the TV in time for Reno 911. Apparently I thought today was Wednesday.

It was like the day was poorly mixed, tasteless, hard, didn't bake right. I felt the same. Disappointing. Much like the oatmeal cookies I made last weekend.

Yesterday, in a shining moment, Truman and I hunted and killed a Giant Flying Cockroach using only paws, whiskers, a towel, a squirt bottle with bleach solution, a flashlight, my right sandle (The Mighty Thumper) and our wits and determination. Today I was collecting laundry, and a cockroach ran down my body to the floor, where I killed it with my work shoe. And then I killed it again with the Mighty Thumper. Dial antibacterial and 10 minutes of loofahing was required.

I just drank a long draught of what turned out to be slightly turned milk. Wonderful.

On the bright side, I found an old tape of a great, cancelled show, Greg the Bunny, with commercials for another great cancelled show, Andy Richter Controls the Universe. And promos for The X-Files: "Only eight episodes left!" Ah, time capsules.

The candle in the window (September 11)

If three years is a pattern, then I use September 11 to mark time. Two years ago, I was thinking about the ritual I'd started that day a year before. Emotionally shellshocked, reeling with everyone, all I could think to do was light a candle in my windowsill before bed and gaze into it for a few minutes, sending out thoughts to wherever they go. It became something I did every night for more than a year. It was my bedtime prayer.

Last year, I was vaguely aware that there were memorial events for the terrorist attacks, off somewhere; three days earlier, Grampa had died. Then Daddy, Andy and I were travelling north, and it was a beautiful, beautiful day with flags popping at half-staff. John Ritter died. Grammy had a birthday and Grampa had a memorable visitation. Johnny Cash died. We arrived in time for the funeral. The cousins hung around the farm in the car listening to Nine Inch Nails.

I really can't wrap my mind around the fact that it's been a year, or that it's been three. But it feels right: we're not a year and forever out. We've made three journeys and come home every time. We remind ourselves to drop pebbles so we can find our way. We look for the candle in the window.

Marauders and the Little Rock Hilton

There are nine Red Cross disaster recovery vehicles parked at the Hilton on University. When I first saw them this evening, pre-logic, they were just a fleet of emergency vehicles and I thought something horrible must have happened in the hotel. But when I realized they were identical and simply parked, my best guess was that they were caravanning to Florida, camped out here while they wait for Hurricane Ivan to blow in like a marauding invader. I was right, as it turns out.

KUAR: Red Cross Using Little Rock as Staging Area for Florida Hurricane Relief (2004-09-09)

Charley was something; I was home that weekend, on holiday between the summer and fall sessions. We kept the TV on and tried to get ahold of Aunt Lin or one of the kids or Aaron. Charley was small and fast. A couple of weeks later, Labor Day weekend, I was home again, and Frances was set to hit right at the town where I'd spent a few days with some friends this May. I lit a candle and checked my email a lot. Frances was huge and slow.

Now they're waiting for Ivan, who sounds like the most ferocious monster of them all.

It's got to be exhausting. You can handle anything, I've always thought, as long as you know when it's going to be over. You just pace yourself and think about tomorrow. But this is like being bone-tired nearing home, concentrating all your energy on staying awake and alive for the next mile, and then finding out you have to drive a hundred more.

Shayna reviews a silly movie

I went to a matinee of Without a Paddle on opening day. I've also done this with American Wedding and Darkness Falls, and I went out of my way to see The Italian Job and Austin Powers 3, as well. All of them (with the possible exception of The Italian Job) are mediocre movies, but I can't seem to stop myself. Those former Buffy actors draw me like a fly to honey.

This one was definitely targeted at the Goonies/Stand By Me generation. It's not going to be a classic like either of those, but it had some of the same heart going for it. I appreciated the references to Star Wars and other 70s and 80s movies and music, too. Seth Green's character mimics C3PO a couple of times (hee), and there's a four-wheeler chase through a redwood-like forest that's reminiscent of the speeders on Endor. There's also a bear who swallows a cell phone that seems to always ring at the right time to alert them to the bear's presence, which I'm taking as a nod to Peter Pan and the croc with a ticking clock in its belly.

Overall, the movie was a wobbly attempt to balance broad slapstick (which I expected, and which Cletus and his brother behind me in the theater thought was fabulous) and a genuinely warm buddy story (which I didn't expect). The the dialogue, as written, was half-assed and bland and the antagonists (with the exception of the bear) complete cartoons. But Seth Green, Matthew Lillard, and Dax Shepard had such good chemistry that it all came off okay for me. They seemed to really enjoy the movie and each other.

The opening sequence is a montage of four friends as children, playing at Ghostbusters and Indiana Jones. Twenty years later, one of the boys dies, an event that's treated with realistic gravity, which was my first clue that this wasn't going to be pure Austin Powers. It also launches the remaining three on their adventure, and these Lost Boys have never quite grown up. One is a businessman with a house and a live-in girlfriend, but his heart is still out surfing waves. Another is an M.D., but he's still afraid of the dark, among many other things. (He's fully as neurotic as C3PO.) And the third can't seem to pull together a responsible existence at all. They go on their quest, they face wacky obstacles, they find their Chester Copperpot, they get to open their Ark of the Covenant (a tackle box with the treasures of their youth, the covenant sealed with their blood--or earwax). But of course the real treasure is their lives and their friends. They learn to appreciate their lives, stop being afraid, trust themselves. Aw. I don't know. It's trite, but ultimately it overcame that and the more base humor and worked for me.

Plus, Seth Green got top billing and more screen time than I've ever seen him have. Music by Christophe Beck, and it was filmed in New Zealand. Sweet.

Trojan shirt

Several all-nighters up at the office building (creepy!), a gajillion pots of green tea and considerably more morning coffee than I usually drink, and I turned in the final-final draft of my thesis last week. I gave the oral defense on Thursday and took the final-final-final copy to the dean today for approval. The dean, however, is out, so I'm free for a week. I figure I'll pack up and go home tomorrow.

To celebrate, I thought I'd treat myself to some Ridiculously Overprised University Merchandise. The hoodie I really wanted turned out to be over 50 bucks, and that was more overpriced than I could stand. I went for a navy cap with grey embroidery, and the one I wanted only came bundled with a cheapish grey silkscreened tee-shirt. I was happier about the tee-shirt when I saw that it included the name of the university mascot, the Trojans. (My inner twelve-year-old boy thinks that's quite amusing. We have Trojan Week here and everything.)

Hamster in a secure, undisclosed location

MSNBC - GOP Questions Kerry's Hamster Heroism

Hee.

Dingoes!

Doggies ate my baby!

Cool.

New words

Words added to Webster

Teensploitation, pleather, MP3, IT. I'm really surprised "pleather" wasn't in it before now.

Guests, movie, swim meet

I'm here again with my Sunday morning Krispy Kremes, getting ready to hit the thesis. I took a walk this morning to wake up. I ducked into an unexplored (by me) cul-de-sac and discovered a really quiet, green cove full of cricket song and honeysuckle. There were a lot of passionflower vines, too, and most of the flowers were pure white instead of the usual stripey purple. I went back on my way to the donut shop, took pictures and picked a maypop, the fruit from the passionflower.

I had wanted to get going a lot earlier this morning. I planned to go to bed right after Saturday Night Live and get up at 5; that's a respectable night's sleep lately. Instead, I didn't even make it to 10:30 before falling asleep on the couch, and I missed the beginning of SNL. (It was last season's finale, which I missed before and I've really been wanting to see: it's the Olsen twins, and Jimmy Fallon's last episode.) I woke up halfway through and stayed partially awake til the end, when I went right into my fluffy, clean-sheeted bed and slept til 7. Good grief. I guess my body is trying to force me to catch up on sleep.

Mama and my aunt Jyll were here last week. It was nice. The Boston terrier was pretty well-behaved, especially when he was in his service dog gear, and my cat suffered only minor annoyance from his presence. It was fun to see them interact, actually. The human interaction was nice as well. Mama came to classes with me Friday morning. She's always a hit with the students.

Friday, we took Jyll to the bus station, and later Mama and I went to a movie. Harry Potter was only a matinee and we missed it, Mama wasn't interested in Spider-Man, and I wasn't interested in The Message, so we agreed on Napoleon Dynamite. Low budget-charming, with a wonderfully creative low-tech opening credit sequence. It's about a very odd teenage boy and his kind of sad, eccentric group of family and friends. I was afraid it would be painful to watch, but somehow it avoided that for the most part (with me anyway) and instead was really, really funny and satisfying. I can see it becoming a cult classic, full of lines that stick in your head and you quote at random times in your life.

[Pick-up line] "I see you're drinking 2% milk. Is that because you think you're fat? Because you're not, you could drink whole milk if you wanted to."

"Do you have anything you could gve her?" "I don't think so. Unless she likes fish."


Saturday, we went to Arkadelphia for Allie's state swim meet. It was a madhouse, madhouse I tell you! Well, it was very crowded and loud, but exciting. Hundreds of kids from age six to high school, running around in their suits and swim trunks, with their event numbers written in ball-point pen or marker on the skin of their arms or legs. Allie's very cute in her skullcap and goggles, and she did great. I got to see her win her heat in the breaststroke. I also ran into one of my professors from Ouachita and ended up getting to visit with her most of the morning and see the whole family. I love the Sonheims.

Where the women are strong...

Yahoo! News - Keillor's Characters May Hit Silver Screen

What an interesting idea for a movie. I'd love to see some of the Lake Woebegon characters and stories included.

Tampon Henge

While making an assignment for one of my classes, I came upon the following Eighth Wonder of the World:

Tampon Henge

I approve of the making of photo-illustrated stories using toys and random objects. It makes me happy. I've seen some good ones made of Barbies and an absolutely thorough and hilarious retelling of the Bible using Legos (The Brick Testament).

Bulwer-Lytton!

Yahoo! News - Martha Stewart Inspires Bad-Writing Winner

Wow. This Dave Zobel guy produced a real gem.

"She resolved to end the love affair with Ramon tonight ... summarily, like Martha Stewart ripping the sand vein out of a shrimp's tail ... though the term 'love affair' now struck her as a ridiculous euphemism ... not unlike 'sand vein,' which is after all an intestine, not a vein ... and that tarry substance inside certainly isn't sand ... and that brought her back to Ramon."

Sleep deprivation oho

I worked on my thesis all last week in increasingly adrenaline-pumped evening and late-night sessions. On Friday and Saturday nights I gave myself a break and got five and six hours of sleep, but last night I vowed to finish before I slept. And I did. I wasn't even really cutting it close, so I didn't once feel panicked during the process. In fact, it was kind of enjoyable, for an all-nighter pulled off in a creepy empty office building in a drab, windowless office. I printed the document, deposited it in my advisor's door slot, and made it home in time to sleep for an hour and arrive at class on time, showered, dressed, and sort of fed.

I realized I was tired in my afternoon class when I woke up and realized I'd been standing there writing gibberish on the blackboard. It's not that hard to fall asleep standing up, but to do it while talking to a group of people and writing grammar on the board, that's quite an achievement. I decided I wouldn't do the errands I'd planned for after class. If I could doze off at the blackboard, I could do it while driving.

But it's out of my hands for a little while, and I'm free to worry about all the other little things I've been pushing aside. Also maybe watch some TV and go to bed early. Excellent.

Donut musings

On weekend mornings, either Saturday or Sunday, I like to get up early and go get donuts. It's a treat. When I wake up early enough for Krispy Kreme, I drive over, park, and go inside. I could drive through, but if you go in, they give you a free, warm glazed. Then you can save your other donuts for later.

The past two or three times, I've asked for one or two glazed donuts and a filled one. I would just order one custard-filled donut, but I'd feel too odd. Even buying three donuts is weird in Krispy Kreme. The least anybody ever gets is half a dozen, but almost everybody is going in for a dozen glazed, or a dozen glazed and a dozen assorted, or six dozen. Your single donut consumers are rare, it seems. Once when I drove through and asked for one strawberry shortcake donut, the guy at the window just gave it to me, no charge. "It's just one donut," he waved away the dollar I held out. At Shipley's, where I also go sometimes, it's not strange at all to order an apple fritter and a cinnamon twist. Shipley's is a chain, but it feels more like a mom-and-pop. The shop I go to is old; the paint on the sign is faded, the inside is bare and dim, and they close before noon every day. I try to put a tip in the styrofoam tip cup.

I'm hard-pressed to eat four donuts in a week; I just want that one treat on one day. But I can manage it. This morning when I went in to Krispy Kreme, and the woman who waited on me said, "You get almost the same thing every time!" I was secretly thrilled; I'm almost a regular!

Peace, Goodwill and plungers

After half a week of 6-hour days in the classroom, my students get burned out and exhausted, so I try to do fun things on Wednesday and Thursday afternoons. This week we're in a unit on homes and have been doing vocabulary related to rooms, appliances, furniture, fixtures, and decorations. Today I took them to Goodwill. I prepped the activity by talking about thrift stores. They had to predict what types of items they'd find. We also made a wish list of how we'd like to decorate our classroom. Then I gave them a worksheet to fill out on-site, and we headed off to the store. I realized that they were the first passengers in my new car.

They'd never been anyplace like it here, and they were fascinated. So many things! It's a great vocabulary lesson. They hold something up and I tell them what it is. They have to categorize things on their worksheet. The Taiwanese guy, Y, was fascinated by a white rubber toilet plunger whose handle was a clear PVC tube filled with rice. (I have to say, I was intrigued myself. My main thought: "Why?") The Korean woman, E, used her time to do a little shopping for her family, though she couldn't find a junior-sized swimsuit. I myself snagged a stoneware crock with a lid, a Pampered Chef stone breadpan, and a paperback copy of Edith Hamilton's Mythology. I also gave them 10 dollars to buy things for the classroom. E picked out a small resin witch figurine (she likes witches, what can I say) and Y pleased me with his choice of a handsome oak knick-knack shelf. I found a set of checked curtains to round it out.

As a chronic notetaker and listmaker who is rarely without a little notebook or a scrap of paper and a pen, I should have remembered how nervous it makes employees when you go around their store marking down items on a piece of paper. They think you're from a rival store. I don't know what other thrift store Goodwill would be locked in such a battle with, really, but fortunately I discovered the situation before the manager completely launched into E and took her worksheet away. Lady, it's just a field trip! She was apologetic and nice after that.

Lazy heat rises slow

The night of the Fourth, I think, there was a tremendous storm, with flood watches over half the state. That has happened every week this spring and early summer, it seems, but this time was different. The next morning, the air was so humid I could see beams of light shining through it like dust in a barn. And that day, it started to get hot. It feels like summer now. We had another morning thunderstorm yesterday, but when you get into the car at the end of the day, it's baking. And the pavement in the evening smells like summer. I finally heard cicadas.

I've been trying to do all-nighters. Every day I think, this is the day I'll finish my thesis! I'm finding my optimism and lack of panic disconcerting. Especially considering I'm working on two hours of sleep every night this week.

UConn Botanists Cultivate 'Corpse Flower'

Yahoo! News - UConn Botanists Cultivate 'Corpse Flower'

Pretty cool, to the enormous plant-lover in me. (Beware of some bad puns and at least two heinous misuses of apostrophes in the possessive "it" in the story.)

He got the hydro-phoby

3 Fatal Cases of Rabies Are Linked to Ill Donor

The first story I read said the original man, the infected donor, was from Arkansas. This story says Texas, but I think the mystery is explained by the fact that he's from Texarkana. He could live on the Arkansas side, but he went to the hospital on the Texas side, and the New York Times wouldn't know much about the geography of it.

I'm listed as an organ donor, and I feel pretty strongly about it, but if in the days before I die, you remember me mentioning being bitten or having contact with a wild animal, for heaven's sake, speak up. What a nightmare. Rabies! It almost sounds quaint, like the way the actors in Old Yeller say "hydro-phoby," except when it actually happens.

Saturday morning

It's a lovely, rainy Saturday morning. I went for a walk in the drizzle, had a leisurely stretch while watching an episode of My So Called Life on the DVDs my friend loaned me. Then I went out for donuts, came back and had a hot shower, and now I'm drinking homemade milk coffee, listening to Michael Feldman on NPR, and eating Shipley's. (Krispy Kreme is too crowded Saturdays, and I kind of OD'd on my birthday; I also like to spread my business around.) The windows are open and wind is jangling my chimes on the balcony.

Is there a climate event going on this year, El Nino or something? It was a mild winter, warm even. It's been an unusually cool, wet June, and here it is July and still 65 degrees and raining. My basil is failing to thrive, and the rosemary aren't thrilled, but the mint and green beans love it. I wish I had a cistern to store all this water for the inevitable drought that is August and most of the fall.

I feel very relaxed. I don't know why I'm not more worried about my thesis, which I've scheduled myself to start working on in an hour. Maybe I panicked so much last week and the week before that the stress sent me over the edge, and now I'm sabotaging myself.

This is actually a sport

100-Lb. Woman No. 2 in World for Eating

The headline isn't entirely accurate, though, because Sonya Thomas actually "weighs anywhere from 100 to 110 pounds depending on the contents of her stomach" [emphasis mine]. And check it out. There's an International Federation of Competitive Eating. Who knew.

Friday night

My sleeping has been so weird lately. I fall asleep on the couch before midnight, with my work spread out, half-done; maybe I wake up several times in the night and try to do some more work, and keep falling back asleep. Eventually I get into bed, though I never remember doing it, and sometimes I forget to set the alarms. I haven't been late to class yet, fortunately.

After classes ended this afternoon (noon on Fridays) I spent almost five hours on campus doing more planning. I have to get that stuff out of the way before I start working on my thesis; otherwise I'll forget and have to scramble at the last minute, like I've been doing. Made a test and some video worksheets and a lab.

Then I went to Leo's Greek Castle for a falafel sandwich and to Best Buy to spend my birthday money. My normal practice if I get birthday money is to buy the latest Newberry Award winner in hardback, but I got the feeling Mama would love it if I got the electronic adaptor device I mentioned to her. So I got one of those and the Finding Nemo soundtrack. (I figured it would be good for when I'm working on my thesis.)

It took me most of the evening to set up and test everything with the various recording functions and combinations of the two VCRs, but now all I have to do when I want to watch a DVD is walk over and push a button. Tell you what, it's a good thing my car doesn't have power windows or locks and there's no refrigerator at work, because otherwise my life would be getting so convenient I wouldn't know what to do with myself.

Hi ho, Silver

Got the car! Brought her home, and she's all snug in a parking space, sticking out like a sore thumb with her lack of tags. Honda Civic sedan, silver. Took me three days this week, but I got Honda to beat Toyota's deal, and now I'm poor but I have reliable transportation that I worked out myself. I think I feel good. And my car is a pretty little thing. Simple but sweet.

Quebeckers!

Canada's Liberals Lose Parliament Control

This story is interesting in the general-knowledge sense, for just knowing what's going on in the world, particularly since I know some Canadians who care about politics and vote. However, the thing that excited me about it was that it uses the terms "Quebecois" and "Quebeckers," which I had investigated several months ago when I couldn't quite figure out what people from Quebec would be called. (The answer turned out to be much more complicated than I would have expected.)

Divine fruit

I just ate sliced homegrown tomato and fresh-picked basil on wheat toast with cream cheese and a sprinkle of black pepper.

Everything else in the world falls away. Mmmmmmmmtomato.

Fear springs eternal

There are so many little things that take forever. Check how much money I have in both checking accounts and what I owe on my credit cards. Print off a paystub. Look up each car and check the features. Check that against the New Car Price Report. Check interest rates for car loans in Arkansas. Use an online calculator to appraise Noah so I know how much the trade-in is worth. Do all this inefficiently because my phone cord is frayed and the internet connection keeps failing. Clean all my crap out of the car and bring it inside. Scrounge for quarters for the car wash. Find enough to use to use the vacuum hose at the car wash. Check with a different, drive-through car wash I can pay for with cash, find out it's broken. Go to grocery store to buy more quarters, by which time it's dark. Plan to finish tomorrow on the way to the dealership.

I have to get this done tomorrow. I can't afford the time I've spent in the past week. I guess if I don't finish my thesis and don't have a job, I'll have a car to live in. Untill they repossess it.

I keep thinking I've done all the things that scare me, that there's not much left I can't handle. After living in China, I thought that. And actually I was right, but smaller things still happen to shake my confidence. I've never bought a car, going alone and haggling over money with dealers scares the crap out of me, or at least is very stressful, but I have to do it. And then, well... I'll have done it. That will be a good thing.

Late birthday weekend

Went home this weekend for Jeff and Julie's engagement party for Travis and Emily. It was nice, and I saw the Fryars and talked to them quite a bit.

Sometimes I look at Travis and see the little boy I babysat, and I can't believe he's getting married; and sometimes I look at him and he's such an adult, and it seems quite natural.

The family celebrated my birthday with traditional poppyseed cake (mmmmmm) on Saturday evening. Other highlights included a cup of Blue Mountain coffee that was so strong it made me lightheaded, making blackberry pies, and eating fresh corn and tomatoes for lunch. There was also salmon loaf, which was good but not, of course, fresh. I saw Finding Nemo for the first time and nearly wept. (How could such a good movie be about a fish? But it is. I kind of want the soundtrack.) Mama took me over to see Tobasco Probasco, the 10 day old miniature horse. He played with me agressively, like an overly exuberant large-breed dog. Fortunately he doesn't have teeth yet.

Rusty is getting old. Mama and Daddy have talked about it.

Drove Noah (the purple Stratus) back to the city so I can trade it in. I need to close some kind of deal in the next two days. On top of everything else, this is really stressful. I'd so rather be reading Harry Potter. Sigh.

This is a diner

This litttle essay is pretty cool, especially for y'all who are familiar with diner culture; who have perhaps spent hours and days and weeks and years in a booth, getting refills in your bottomless cup and studying and discussing the meaning of life with your coffee-swigging pals.

I assigned my students a reading exercise on the history of the American diner, and they started asking questions, and it evolved into a mini-unit. I showed clips of TV shows and movie scenes taking place in diners, we identified the parts and brainstormed what makes diners unique, and I gave them bonus credit for eating at a diner and bringing me the receipt. They'll also write an essay comparing and contrasting diners and fast-food restaurants.

Saturnalia 2

That went well. The salesman was so helpful and low-key, by the time I was ready to leave, I practically wanted to hug him. (His youngest daughter is about my age. So it would have been weird, but not that weird. Well, okay, pretty weird.) They have Ion 1s with AC and CD players for $13,500. We'll see. I have very good credit, so maybe I can qualify for 0% financing and 0 down. That would be really nice, because, well, student and teacher here. Sounds like if I want the Saturn, I ought to try to make a decision before the end of the month; my guy didn't know if the 0% thing would extend to July. I believe him.

This was a good way to get my feet wet; now I've test driven something and asked (hopefully intelligent) questions. Maybe I can face the vultures at the other places. Not looking forward to it, but I'm not as terrified now. And hey, maybe they'll feed me donuts.

Saturnalia

I'm about to venture forth to Saturn and look at cars. I've been so nervous about this, I found a million ways I wasn't ready, more research I needed to do, and got overwhelmed with all the information. I can't take it anymore, and I feel guilty for taking so long anyway. So I'm going, dammit. I have rehearsed many scenarios. Hopefully I'll do okay.

Testes, testes, one two three.

Tap tap. Is this thing on?