A long day begins with a long drive. During which we stop to get me dramamine and ginger ale. Just remember, when life gives you drama, take dramamine.
The road is lovely, and after my dose, just seems to float by as I doze, never really asleep, but never really awake. Fortunately this wears off as we near Spokane, just in time for lunch at IHOP, since we're really early for Will's flight.
The IHOP is very crowded, but we have time. Our group takes up a fair amount of the waiting area. We finally get seated, and find that we have been assigned to the waiter on turbo charge. He is a short latino with only one speed - super-fast - and he calls everyone "my friend" except for Amy. He calls her "boss." Twice. Me he calls "sweety" once, and I think he finally calls Mark boss, or at least something other than my friend. But the guy nearly runs around the table, filling water, bringing us a carafe, etc. It's awesome.
We go to fill up the cars before returning them. We figure if we drive down this major-ish looking road, we'll find a gas station eventually. Well, we do, but it's absurdly far from the airport. We console ourselves, as we drive and drive and drive without seeing a station, that at least we aren't lost. We can always u-turn and end up right where we came from. When we finally find a pump, it's a pay first, no credit cards, old school sort of job. But hey, it's an adventure. And it works. And we finally head for the airport.
Will's flight leaves, and the rest of us wait around for a bit. We catch the end of the world cup on TV. Italy wins. We find out that Ken Lay has died of a heart attack. People ask us where we've been that we hadn't heard. It really was fun to drop off the face of the earth for a while. Going back is going to be a bit harsh.
The Houston crew leaves Teebs and Amy behind to wait for their flight. We get to Phoenix, only to find that weather in Las Vegas has delayed a lot of the connections, and the gate area is in chaos. We've got plenty of time, so we find some neutral ground to park in while we wait to find out which gate our plane will actually be at. We pull out the lap tops and connect to the wireless. We all take turns checking e-mail, and it's just about business as usual already.
Our flight is delayed, of course, and by the time we get on it, I'm regretting that I didn't request tomorrow off from work. I'm going to be pretty ragged tomorrow. As I expect, I don't sleep much on the plane. We land in Houston around 1 A.M. and the first thing I notice getting off of the plane is, of course, the humidity. I knew it would be bad, but the air actually *smells* like water. Not to mention feels like a sauna.
We collect our baggage. Mark and Joanna drive me home. I drag everything into my aparment, and, already half asleep, shut out the world and the stray cat that apparently wants to come live with me. I fall into bed at 2 A.M. and my trip to Glacier National Park is officially over.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Trip to Glacier - Day 8
The entire trip I've been vaguely intrigued by what I can't see of the park without leaving the paved roads. The vastness just off the beaten path tugs insistently at the corners of my mind, and today I welcome the chance to turn around and take it in.
To get to Bowman lake we leave the paved road quite decidedly. Dirt roads are nothing new. They're my way home, to the places I feel most at home. This dirt road is longer and more winding, though. And stranger.
The dust billows up around us and the cars that pass us, hiding the mountains and the forest to either side. We drive through the bare matchstick trees, killed in the 2003 fire, that stand on the north side of Lake McDonald. The road winds and jumps and shakes itself beneath us for miles. Suddenly we begin to see signs.
Burgers
Pizza
Coffee!
Internet
The road smoothes into pavement beneath us, and we pass driveways and the cafe that contains these advertised wonders. Some of the driveways have for sale signs. For an amount of money that won't buy more than a postage stamp of land in West University Place, here I can buy myself 51.3 acres of at the foot of the mountains. I begin to seriously consider my ability to tough out the winters and escape potential forest fires. The pavement doesn't last for long, and we're back on the wilder side.
We pass through Polebridge, where gas from the large above ground tank is bought on the honor system, and a sign says "Slow, People Breathing." The dust from the road is thick on our cars.
We reach Bowman Lake, park, and walk to the waterside. It lies like a small turquoise in mountains' lap, nestled there like a child. It seems like such a little lake, after Lake McDonald. But like all the lakes here, the water stretches out and down, still, peaceful, magical.
But the bugs are terrible.
Lunch, a short hike, sitting in the sun and skipping rocks. I spend a lazy day on the edges of this gem. The group splits up. Will rests in the shade, not feeling well. Amy walks back to Polebridge, later met by Erik, Kerri, and Will in the car.
Mark, Joanna, Teebs, and I finally start back. We stop in Polebridge for cookies. Very very *good* cookies. Because I ask, we stop in Apgar Village, where Lake McDonald empties itself back into a creek. It does so with a nonchalance that seems strange. But then I live in Texas, where lakes are mostly what happens when you dam a river. Instead of any dramatic break between still and streaming waters, there is simply lake, then creek. More impressive is the large water spider and its sprawling web among the rocks.
My curiosity about the beginnings of things and the roots of things satisfied, we get back in the minivan and head to the cabin. Our last day in the park is slow and relaxed, just as it should be, and I'm sad to be leaving soon.
We begin to pack up our things, and to eat as much of the food that's left as we can. It feels, at the end, like a day of endings.
To get to Bowman lake we leave the paved road quite decidedly. Dirt roads are nothing new. They're my way home, to the places I feel most at home. This dirt road is longer and more winding, though. And stranger.
The dust billows up around us and the cars that pass us, hiding the mountains and the forest to either side. We drive through the bare matchstick trees, killed in the 2003 fire, that stand on the north side of Lake McDonald. The road winds and jumps and shakes itself beneath us for miles. Suddenly we begin to see signs.
Burgers
Pizza
Coffee!
Internet
The road smoothes into pavement beneath us, and we pass driveways and the cafe that contains these advertised wonders. Some of the driveways have for sale signs. For an amount of money that won't buy more than a postage stamp of land in West University Place, here I can buy myself 51.3 acres of at the foot of the mountains. I begin to seriously consider my ability to tough out the winters and escape potential forest fires. The pavement doesn't last for long, and we're back on the wilder side.
We pass through Polebridge, where gas from the large above ground tank is bought on the honor system, and a sign says "Slow, People Breathing." The dust from the road is thick on our cars.
We reach Bowman Lake, park, and walk to the waterside. It lies like a small turquoise in mountains' lap, nestled there like a child. It seems like such a little lake, after Lake McDonald. But like all the lakes here, the water stretches out and down, still, peaceful, magical.
But the bugs are terrible.
Lunch, a short hike, sitting in the sun and skipping rocks. I spend a lazy day on the edges of this gem. The group splits up. Will rests in the shade, not feeling well. Amy walks back to Polebridge, later met by Erik, Kerri, and Will in the car.
Mark, Joanna, Teebs, and I finally start back. We stop in Polebridge for cookies. Very very *good* cookies. Because I ask, we stop in Apgar Village, where Lake McDonald empties itself back into a creek. It does so with a nonchalance that seems strange. But then I live in Texas, where lakes are mostly what happens when you dam a river. Instead of any dramatic break between still and streaming waters, there is simply lake, then creek. More impressive is the large water spider and its sprawling web among the rocks.
My curiosity about the beginnings of things and the roots of things satisfied, we get back in the minivan and head to the cabin. Our last day in the park is slow and relaxed, just as it should be, and I'm sad to be leaving soon.
We begin to pack up our things, and to eat as much of the food that's left as we can. It feels, at the end, like a day of endings.
Monday, August 07, 2006
Trip to Glacier - Day 7
Today I ride the Red Bus. The guide is very knowledgable. Talks the entire time. And I take notes. Yes, I am a nerd. Here's what I learn:
We stop at the Logan Pass visitor center, to browse the little book store and use the facilities. I hop out of the Red Bus and walk across the parking lot, and I see a gold minivan that looks hauntingly familiar. And well it should. It's the one Joanna has been driving, down to the license plate! She and Mark got up very early in the morning, to judge by the excellent parking spot in a completely packed parking lot. They must still be hiking the Highline Trail along the Garden Wall. They will catch the shuttle that picks up hikers at the Loop, but they aren't back yet, so I can't resist leaving them a note on their windshield. Ships that pass in the night.
We stop for lunch at a restraunt looking out over St. Mary Lake. I have the best bacon cheese burger of my life. Or maybe the one I am the most hungry for! A card on the table tells me that I can leave with my bill a donation to keep the Red Buses in service, so I leave $5 extra as a gift to the fun little bus that is carrying me back to the places I'm so glad to visit again.
The wind on the eastern side of Logan Pass is incredible. We scramble up to Sun Point, which had been such a peaceful overlook a few days before, and I'm afraid to go too close to the edge, in case a big gust comes along. I might get blown right off into the lake below! The wind is exhilerating in my face, but tiring to push against for too long, so I turn my shoulders to it and shut my eyes as it whips my hair stinging into my face.
Eyes shut at the top of the world, with the sun warm on my neck and the wing roaring in my ears and drowning out the voice around me, I feel like I am completely alone in a world that is rushing past at a breakneck pace, and flying on down a tumbling stream, leaving me behind. Like the water I watched in the streams and water falls felt cleansing to my spirit as it rippled in my eyes, the wind races through me, and in a much more tangible way, seems to sweep away the dust and fragments of things I want to let go, and toss into it through open fingers in my mind. They leave me and I feel lightened, and I open my eyes and make sure I'm not being left behind by my tour group!
Back at Lake McDonald Lodge, I have a few hours to kill before the rest of my group returns from their rafting expedition and someone comes to pick me up. As the Red Bus drops me off, I feel in my own little independent element as if I'm cutting loose even from them, the people I only know for the day. But my own little independent self gets set down right in the midst of a wedding party taking pictures in front of the lodge, so I scuttle off out of the way, through the lobby to the back. I wander down to the lakeside, and see that the next boat excursion on the lake leaves in twenty minutes. Perfect timing!
I ask how long the runs take, to make sure I'll be back before my ride shows up. They only take an hour, which leaves plenty of time. I ask if there are any seats left, and there are, so I pay my fair, and hover near the dock, waiting for the chain across the entry to unfasten and let me onto the boat.
The guides that speak on the boat aren't really worth listening to, but for an hour we float against the waves down the length of the lake, and I kneel at the window, with my seat to myself, lean my elbows on the sill, my chin on my arms, and let the jade and emerald waters fill my vision. I can lift my eyes to the encircling mountains with their matchstick fire-ravished flanks, but instead I sink them down into the depths, following the sun beams that travel like silver floss through the upper feet of that clear, cold, glowing water.
Evening at the cabin and we're all together again. We exchange stories of our day, and lay our plans for tomorrow. Horseback riding, it appears, is out. But it's hard *not* to enjoy the day, whatever we do.
Until then.
- The trees that lie like pickup sticks amid those still standing in the forest were probably knocked down by wind. And probably fell 30-40 years ago! The cold temperatures keep the wood from degrading, and dead trees seem to hang around forever.
- The forest around Lake McDonald is a cedar hemlock forrest.
- Going to the Sun Road was originally going to zig zag up to Logan Pass, but the route they finally chose, making one sharp turn then scaling the garden wall, was much cheaper (not to mention less nausea-inducing). It still cost $80,000 per mile to build.
- Bird Woman Falls does not flow from Hidden Lake.
- According to our guide, bicyclists are known to the bears as "Meals on Wheels." Lest we get too complacent, he adds that the Red Buses are known as the "Easy Open Variety Pack."
- Many of the fire-scorched trees we see were killed in the 1967 fire, which was started by lightning. Many of them are still standing.
- Ox-eye Daisies (which are very pretty) are actually weeds in this part of the country, and were carried in by settlers traveling along the wagon trails.
- The purple bell-shaped flowers are hairbells.
- The fire of 2003 came up to the Garden Wall, and you can still see the blue plastic of some Port-o-Potties that were melted into the asphalt in the parking lot by the Loop turn.
- The rock in the mountains here is very old. They have found fossils dating back to the supercontinent Pangaea, and they've found Stromatolyte fossils that are very similar to ones found in Austraila and New Zealand.
- The cascade of Bird Woman Falls drops 492 feet in one fell swoop as the stream travels down the mountain.
- The odd little stream that seems to spring out of the middle of Piegan Mountain is probably from the meltwater off of Piegan Glacier, which lies on the other side of the peak from the road where we can't see it.
- Going to the Sun Road gets its name from Going to the Sun Mountain, which in turn is called after a legend reported by J. W. Schultze. Sour Spirit came down among Blackfoot tribes, and when he returned to his home in the sun, ascended Going to the Sun Mountain.
- Wild Goose Island looks very small, but is actually the size of a house, and the trees that stand on it are about 80 feet tall.
- Parts of the movie What Dreams May Come were filmed in Glacier. Specifically, the water that Robin Williams walks on was St. Mary Lake. It was very cold during the filming, and the actors had to pretend they were very hot.
- Opening shots from The Shining were filmed at Dead Horse Point.
- The rubble that the back-hoe is playing with at the Sun Point trail head is from the construction up at Logan Pass.
- When a glacier stops moving under it's own weight, it is no longer a glacier. It becomes a snow field. The snow field that we shuffled through on the way to the Hidden Lake overlook used to be the Clemens glacier, which stopped moving in 1913.
We stop at the Logan Pass visitor center, to browse the little book store and use the facilities. I hop out of the Red Bus and walk across the parking lot, and I see a gold minivan that looks hauntingly familiar. And well it should. It's the one Joanna has been driving, down to the license plate! She and Mark got up very early in the morning, to judge by the excellent parking spot in a completely packed parking lot. They must still be hiking the Highline Trail along the Garden Wall. They will catch the shuttle that picks up hikers at the Loop, but they aren't back yet, so I can't resist leaving them a note on their windshield. Ships that pass in the night.
We stop for lunch at a restraunt looking out over St. Mary Lake. I have the best bacon cheese burger of my life. Or maybe the one I am the most hungry for! A card on the table tells me that I can leave with my bill a donation to keep the Red Buses in service, so I leave $5 extra as a gift to the fun little bus that is carrying me back to the places I'm so glad to visit again.
The wind on the eastern side of Logan Pass is incredible. We scramble up to Sun Point, which had been such a peaceful overlook a few days before, and I'm afraid to go too close to the edge, in case a big gust comes along. I might get blown right off into the lake below! The wind is exhilerating in my face, but tiring to push against for too long, so I turn my shoulders to it and shut my eyes as it whips my hair stinging into my face.
Eyes shut at the top of the world, with the sun warm on my neck and the wing roaring in my ears and drowning out the voice around me, I feel like I am completely alone in a world that is rushing past at a breakneck pace, and flying on down a tumbling stream, leaving me behind. Like the water I watched in the streams and water falls felt cleansing to my spirit as it rippled in my eyes, the wind races through me, and in a much more tangible way, seems to sweep away the dust and fragments of things I want to let go, and toss into it through open fingers in my mind. They leave me and I feel lightened, and I open my eyes and make sure I'm not being left behind by my tour group!
Back at Lake McDonald Lodge, I have a few hours to kill before the rest of my group returns from their rafting expedition and someone comes to pick me up. As the Red Bus drops me off, I feel in my own little independent element as if I'm cutting loose even from them, the people I only know for the day. But my own little independent self gets set down right in the midst of a wedding party taking pictures in front of the lodge, so I scuttle off out of the way, through the lobby to the back. I wander down to the lakeside, and see that the next boat excursion on the lake leaves in twenty minutes. Perfect timing!
I ask how long the runs take, to make sure I'll be back before my ride shows up. They only take an hour, which leaves plenty of time. I ask if there are any seats left, and there are, so I pay my fair, and hover near the dock, waiting for the chain across the entry to unfasten and let me onto the boat.
The guides that speak on the boat aren't really worth listening to, but for an hour we float against the waves down the length of the lake, and I kneel at the window, with my seat to myself, lean my elbows on the sill, my chin on my arms, and let the jade and emerald waters fill my vision. I can lift my eyes to the encircling mountains with their matchstick fire-ravished flanks, but instead I sink them down into the depths, following the sun beams that travel like silver floss through the upper feet of that clear, cold, glowing water.
Evening at the cabin and we're all together again. We exchange stories of our day, and lay our plans for tomorrow. Horseback riding, it appears, is out. But it's hard *not* to enjoy the day, whatever we do.
Until then.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
All Things New
This has been a week of firsts and of new things. I am flopped exhaustedly on my couch surrounded by boxes and bubble wrap, nestling contentedly into my new apartment. It's very nice! I have a lot a lot to do before it's presentable, but it's a pretty little place with a very nice and spacious patio, and all my stuff seems to fit in it just so.
I'm logged into the internet via my brand new wireless router and cable modem combination. There's another new thing I've picked up, a new bill. Now I owe money to Time Warner, but hey, I have *excellent* signal strength!
Having movers move my stuff was a new experience, but a very pleasant one. All three men were courteous and took extra special care of my great grandmother's china cabinet, which actually arrived in safer shape than it left; it locked itself en route, and I don't have the key!
My next new experience, then: lock picking. I was successful in getting the latch to slide back, and now it's taped so that we don't have this problem again. So now I just need to figure out where my stuff will all go, because I think I want to do something different with it all. Something . . . new! :-)
As if moving weren't enough, I had another very fun new experience this past week. On Wednesday, I had sushi for the first time. Now, I thought it would never be done. I mean, I don't like fish to begin with, so what on earth would I be doing eating *raw* fish? But Frank told me I could gorge myself on Yakitori chicken, and would I at least try one piece? Would I trust him? He'd select the best piece he could for me. So . . . I did!
We went to Kubos in the village. I ordered my chicken on a stick, Frank, Chuck, and Brett ordered their sushi, and we got edimome to start with. I had thought those were spicy, but they aren't. Just salty. Frank showed me how to eat them, and I like them a lot! They brought us soy sauce in a little pitcher, and wasabi to mix in. Frank insisted I try a teeeeeeeeny bit of wasabi. Yeah, not a fan. That stuff is killer!
Frank's sushi came, and I do have to admit it is a lovely food. So colorful and elegant. He had something that must be caviar-ish, and sparkled like tiny orange gems in the dark wrapper. Then came something or other with lovely little shredded vegetables, read and green and white, against the soft pink of the fish. There were two sockeye salmon ones, a bold red, then two tuna ones, also red. There were two regular salmon, those were orange, and two pale pink yellowtail ones. I had half of one of the tuna, and half of one of the yellowtail.
Very interesting! The fish sort of just creamed away as I pressed it to the roof of my mouth and chewed the rice. I was surprised at how soft it was. I was expecting to have to chew it, but I really didn't. Frank was very pleased with the yellowtail, but I didn't care for it, really. The tuna was better, I thought. But then, both kinda tasted like soy sauce, since that's what I dipped them in. I also tried some of Chuck's which had salmon skin in it, and tasted sort of bacony. But it had other flavors I didn't care for. So sushi, tried it. Not really a fan, but I really enjoyed the new experience. Especially since I *did* use my chopsticks and I did *not* embarrass myself by dropping anything!
So, new job status on the August 1, new food experience on August 2, new apartment today. Solomon was a very wise man, but I think he was wrong. Maybe there's nothing new under the sun, if you expect any one person to be completely original and do something no one else has. But if you approach life as an adventure, and experience things you've never met before with an open heart and a sense of fun, all things can be exciting and new!
I'm logged into the internet via my brand new wireless router and cable modem combination. There's another new thing I've picked up, a new bill. Now I owe money to Time Warner, but hey, I have *excellent* signal strength!
Having movers move my stuff was a new experience, but a very pleasant one. All three men were courteous and took extra special care of my great grandmother's china cabinet, which actually arrived in safer shape than it left; it locked itself en route, and I don't have the key!
My next new experience, then: lock picking. I was successful in getting the latch to slide back, and now it's taped so that we don't have this problem again. So now I just need to figure out where my stuff will all go, because I think I want to do something different with it all. Something . . . new! :-)
As if moving weren't enough, I had another very fun new experience this past week. On Wednesday, I had sushi for the first time. Now, I thought it would never be done. I mean, I don't like fish to begin with, so what on earth would I be doing eating *raw* fish? But Frank told me I could gorge myself on Yakitori chicken, and would I at least try one piece? Would I trust him? He'd select the best piece he could for me. So . . . I did!
We went to Kubos in the village. I ordered my chicken on a stick, Frank, Chuck, and Brett ordered their sushi, and we got edimome to start with. I had thought those were spicy, but they aren't. Just salty. Frank showed me how to eat them, and I like them a lot! They brought us soy sauce in a little pitcher, and wasabi to mix in. Frank insisted I try a teeeeeeeeny bit of wasabi. Yeah, not a fan. That stuff is killer!
Frank's sushi came, and I do have to admit it is a lovely food. So colorful and elegant. He had something that must be caviar-ish, and sparkled like tiny orange gems in the dark wrapper. Then came something or other with lovely little shredded vegetables, read and green and white, against the soft pink of the fish. There were two sockeye salmon ones, a bold red, then two tuna ones, also red. There were two regular salmon, those were orange, and two pale pink yellowtail ones. I had half of one of the tuna, and half of one of the yellowtail.
Very interesting! The fish sort of just creamed away as I pressed it to the roof of my mouth and chewed the rice. I was surprised at how soft it was. I was expecting to have to chew it, but I really didn't. Frank was very pleased with the yellowtail, but I didn't care for it, really. The tuna was better, I thought. But then, both kinda tasted like soy sauce, since that's what I dipped them in. I also tried some of Chuck's which had salmon skin in it, and tasted sort of bacony. But it had other flavors I didn't care for. So sushi, tried it. Not really a fan, but I really enjoyed the new experience. Especially since I *did* use my chopsticks and I did *not* embarrass myself by dropping anything!
So, new job status on the August 1, new food experience on August 2, new apartment today. Solomon was a very wise man, but I think he was wrong. Maybe there's nothing new under the sun, if you expect any one person to be completely original and do something no one else has. But if you approach life as an adventure, and experience things you've never met before with an open heart and a sense of fun, all things can be exciting and new!
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Trip to Glacier - Day 6
Today is the day that the mountain is too much for me. Slogging through a snow field is hard, but I handle it. Scrambling around a shoulder of the mountain on dirt that is not a path is a little nerve wracking, but I handle it. I *almost* make it to the Hidden Lake over look. I see a baby mountain goat, I see the deepest blue sky I've ever seen in my life, and I see the final uphill stretch, and I turn around.
That deep blue sky means I'm also breathing the least oxygen per volume that I've ever dealt with, and the stitch in my side says, "No more!" Joanna gives me the keys to the minivan and a walkie-talkie, and I trudge back down to the Logan Pass visitor center.
I meet Teebs along the way, who turned back at the dirt-not-a-path-around-a-sharp-ridge scramble. He says he made a snow man, but it's gone already. I say we should write "Hi Amy" in the snow and take a picture for the Amy, back at the cabin recovering from the trailer hitch attack. But the photo wouldn't come out well, so we both continue down hill.
One really wants to scold the ground squirrel, who sits calmly nibbling a glacier lily. Can't he read the signs that say to be careful of them!?! Oh wait. He *belongs* here, eating lilies. I wish I could be his size, and live in such beauty all year.
Back at the minivan I curl up around some Powerade and potato chips and try to get my wind back. It's amazing how much richer the air feels down here, and how much lighter the sky is. I sit drowsing in the sun-warmed car until the walkie-talkie crackles and Kerri's voice says they'll be down soon.
We eat lunch on the sidewalk by the parking lot. Then Mark and Joanna head out for an exciting hike along the Garden Wall, which I've already decided my fear of heights will not permit. But Teebs and I aren't quite ready to call it a day, so the rest drop us off at Lake McDonald Lodge on the way back to the cabin.
We browse the gift shops then wander along the lake shore and spend a while skipping rocks. At which we are both abysmally bad. :-P Rolling gray clouds are looming up over the mountains across the lake, and we watch the storm come on until the other shore fuzzes with rain drops. Then we go into the lodge, and sit near the window.
I decide to book a seat on a Red Bus tour for the next day, since the rest of the group will be rafting, and cold water is not really my thing. A bit feline on that point.
I think this is the night where I learn how to play Nerts, a wicked game of competitive solitaire, with so much going on that I completely addle my brain trying to figure it out. I get so addled that when I try to talk, I get stuck.
"But I, but I, but I, but I, but I, but I, but I, but I . . ."
"Would someone reset her?"
*SMACK*
Which is why I can't remember if this is the right night. It takes me almost half an hour and a quiet walk as the sky grows dark to actually speak in complete sentences again after I stop playing. At least tomorrow I'll be on the Red Bus with people who don't know me, so I shouldn't have to talk much! :-P
Good, good, good, good, good, good . . . *SMACK*. . . Good night!
That deep blue sky means I'm also breathing the least oxygen per volume that I've ever dealt with, and the stitch in my side says, "No more!" Joanna gives me the keys to the minivan and a walkie-talkie, and I trudge back down to the Logan Pass visitor center.
I meet Teebs along the way, who turned back at the dirt-not-a-path-around-a-sharp-ridge scramble. He says he made a snow man, but it's gone already. I say we should write "Hi Amy" in the snow and take a picture for the Amy, back at the cabin recovering from the trailer hitch attack. But the photo wouldn't come out well, so we both continue down hill.
One really wants to scold the ground squirrel, who sits calmly nibbling a glacier lily. Can't he read the signs that say to be careful of them!?! Oh wait. He *belongs* here, eating lilies. I wish I could be his size, and live in such beauty all year.
Back at the minivan I curl up around some Powerade and potato chips and try to get my wind back. It's amazing how much richer the air feels down here, and how much lighter the sky is. I sit drowsing in the sun-warmed car until the walkie-talkie crackles and Kerri's voice says they'll be down soon.
We eat lunch on the sidewalk by the parking lot. Then Mark and Joanna head out for an exciting hike along the Garden Wall, which I've already decided my fear of heights will not permit. But Teebs and I aren't quite ready to call it a day, so the rest drop us off at Lake McDonald Lodge on the way back to the cabin.
We browse the gift shops then wander along the lake shore and spend a while skipping rocks. At which we are both abysmally bad. :-P Rolling gray clouds are looming up over the mountains across the lake, and we watch the storm come on until the other shore fuzzes with rain drops. Then we go into the lodge, and sit near the window.
I decide to book a seat on a Red Bus tour for the next day, since the rest of the group will be rafting, and cold water is not really my thing. A bit feline on that point.
I think this is the night where I learn how to play Nerts, a wicked game of competitive solitaire, with so much going on that I completely addle my brain trying to figure it out. I get so addled that when I try to talk, I get stuck.
"But I, but I, but I, but I, but I, but I, but I, but I . . ."
"Would someone reset her?"
*SMACK*
Which is why I can't remember if this is the right night. It takes me almost half an hour and a quiet walk as the sky grows dark to actually speak in complete sentences again after I stop playing. At least tomorrow I'll be on the Red Bus with people who don't know me, so I shouldn't have to talk much! :-P
Good, good, good, good, good, good . . . *SMACK*. . . Good night!
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Trip to Glacier - Day 5
We leave the east side of the park and take the Going to the Sun Road to our new lodgings in West Glacier. We stop along the way to soak up any view that catches our eye, and to hike along the trails to the little beauties that lie just off the road.
At sun point we look over St. Mary lake to the mountains that now circle around us. We hike to Baring falls where I fall in love all over again, and decide that Glacier must be haunted by water nymphs, and that I would like to be one.
We make our way up to Logan pass, climbing higher and higher. In the pass we stop and marvel at the glacier lilies springing up through the fresh green grass like glowing golden stars. We drive by a white mountain goat posed perfectly on a rocky outcropping. We drive along the side of the Garden Wall mountain ridge and suddenly we are looking out over the most magical valley I've ever seen. The mountain sky glows jewel blue above. A vivid green cloaks the lower slopes of the mountains as they slide down into the broad glacial U that cradles McDonald Creek. The rocky upper faces still hold onto the winter and spring snows. Bird Woman Falls flows from a hanging valley carved out of the peak of a mountain, cupped like a hand offering a blessing. Made silent by distance, the rushing water looks like a tracing of cobweb, and closer by and farther off other falls glint like silver white embroidery in the green velvet of the mountain slopes.
We drive along the Garden Wall to the Loop, where the road cuts one sharp switchback and dives into the valley to follow the creek to Lake McDonald. The limestone not only gives the lakes their vivid jade color, but turns the creek to turquoise as it bubbles in surging rapids and deep pools.
We stop at the Lake McDonald lodge to browse the gift store. Huckleberry syrup, chocolates, and even gummy bears abound. Here we have our first casualty (and it's really amazing that we went so long without one). A giant boat hitch jumps off of the back of a pickup truck and attacks poor Amy, who is on the ground before we can beat it off. Stupid extra long boat hitches.
Without further mishap, we do eventually arrive at our posh new cabin, with it's two bathrooms, beds for fourteen, full kitchen, and a second story window you could jump out of and walk away without a scratch. Amy considers taking that leap, but decides she's starting out scratched so it's probably not the best idea.
Good friends, good food, good fun, and a comfortable bed. A wonderful end to a wonderful day.
At sun point we look over St. Mary lake to the mountains that now circle around us. We hike to Baring falls where I fall in love all over again, and decide that Glacier must be haunted by water nymphs, and that I would like to be one.
We make our way up to Logan pass, climbing higher and higher. In the pass we stop and marvel at the glacier lilies springing up through the fresh green grass like glowing golden stars. We drive by a white mountain goat posed perfectly on a rocky outcropping. We drive along the side of the Garden Wall mountain ridge and suddenly we are looking out over the most magical valley I've ever seen. The mountain sky glows jewel blue above. A vivid green cloaks the lower slopes of the mountains as they slide down into the broad glacial U that cradles McDonald Creek. The rocky upper faces still hold onto the winter and spring snows. Bird Woman Falls flows from a hanging valley carved out of the peak of a mountain, cupped like a hand offering a blessing. Made silent by distance, the rushing water looks like a tracing of cobweb, and closer by and farther off other falls glint like silver white embroidery in the green velvet of the mountain slopes.
We drive along the Garden Wall to the Loop, where the road cuts one sharp switchback and dives into the valley to follow the creek to Lake McDonald. The limestone not only gives the lakes their vivid jade color, but turns the creek to turquoise as it bubbles in surging rapids and deep pools.
We stop at the Lake McDonald lodge to browse the gift store. Huckleberry syrup, chocolates, and even gummy bears abound. Here we have our first casualty (and it's really amazing that we went so long without one). A giant boat hitch jumps off of the back of a pickup truck and attacks poor Amy, who is on the ground before we can beat it off. Stupid extra long boat hitches.
Without further mishap, we do eventually arrive at our posh new cabin, with it's two bathrooms, beds for fourteen, full kitchen, and a second story window you could jump out of and walk away without a scratch. Amy considers taking that leap, but decides she's starting out scratched so it's probably not the best idea.
Good friends, good food, good fun, and a comfortable bed. A wonderful end to a wonderful day.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Trip to Glacier - Day 4
For the first time this trip, the group splits up. Happy Independence Day! I get a lazy morning with the cabin all to myself. I tidy up the place a little, and spend some time reading. Then I climb up to the top of the hill by the entrance to our little lodging area for a view of St. Mary lake. I actually sit and watch the still water in front of me and the bugs crawling around me for forty-five minutes, not moving, no sounds, just dreaming in the sunlight.
In the afternoon Kerri and Erik and I go horseback riding. Four hours is way too long for me to spend on a horse, I find, but still very fun. Just the three of us, the guide, and another lady. And of course the horses.
It's nice to go on a long trip into the mountains and not have to walk it myself, but my favorite thing about horseback riding is the horse. Mine horse is named Walker, and he doesn't really care to follow the other horses much. Has to be nagged (hah, unintentional pun) into staying close to Louie up ahead of me. Insists on stopping to drink at almost every stream we cross. Bangs my knuckles on the saddle horn by jerking his head down sharply when I least expect it. But still I love him! I like to talk to the horse a lot, and see the horse's ears flick back, listening. When I stop talking for a while, he gets worried about me, and turns to look back at me over his shoulder. "You still there?"
Our guide points out an actual glacier to us, Salamander Glacier, so we are now sure that we have indeed seen one.
Pretty glad to be off the horse when the ride is over. OW! We all sit in the lodge for a while, listening to an incredibly inept pianist, then we go eat at the Cattle Barons' Steakhouse.
Oh.
My.
God.
THAT was a good steak. Yes, the mountain air makes me hungry for animal flesh. Yes, horseback riding wears me out and gets my stomach all rumbly. But THAT was a good steak. PEFECTLY done. Juicy, well flavored, tender. Sigh. It doesn't get any better than that.
So if horseback riding and eating steak isn't American enough, Independence Day is capped off by fireworks down by the lake, viewed from the porch of our cabin.
BOOM! Oooooooh!
BAM! Aaaaaaah!
ka-BANG! *sigh*
Showers of brilliant, jewel-like sparks leap into the sky, and glow through the window curtains even after I've gone in and laid down to sleep. Happy birthday, America!
In the afternoon Kerri and Erik and I go horseback riding. Four hours is way too long for me to spend on a horse, I find, but still very fun. Just the three of us, the guide, and another lady. And of course the horses.
It's nice to go on a long trip into the mountains and not have to walk it myself, but my favorite thing about horseback riding is the horse. Mine horse is named Walker, and he doesn't really care to follow the other horses much. Has to be nagged (hah, unintentional pun) into staying close to Louie up ahead of me. Insists on stopping to drink at almost every stream we cross. Bangs my knuckles on the saddle horn by jerking his head down sharply when I least expect it. But still I love him! I like to talk to the horse a lot, and see the horse's ears flick back, listening. When I stop talking for a while, he gets worried about me, and turns to look back at me over his shoulder. "You still there?"
Our guide points out an actual glacier to us, Salamander Glacier, so we are now sure that we have indeed seen one.
Pretty glad to be off the horse when the ride is over. OW! We all sit in the lodge for a while, listening to an incredibly inept pianist, then we go eat at the Cattle Barons' Steakhouse.
Oh.
My.
God.
THAT was a good steak. Yes, the mountain air makes me hungry for animal flesh. Yes, horseback riding wears me out and gets my stomach all rumbly. But THAT was a good steak. PEFECTLY done. Juicy, well flavored, tender. Sigh. It doesn't get any better than that.
So if horseback riding and eating steak isn't American enough, Independence Day is capped off by fireworks down by the lake, viewed from the porch of our cabin.
BOOM! Oooooooh!
BAM! Aaaaaaah!
ka-BANG! *sigh*
Showers of brilliant, jewel-like sparks leap into the sky, and glow through the window curtains even after I've gone in and laid down to sleep. Happy birthday, America!
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Newsflash!
We interrupt this report on Glacier National Park and your regularly scheduled work day for this breaking news.
IDI has extended me an offer for permanent employment, and I will be a full time regular employee with benefits starting August 1!
YAY!YAY!YAY!
Okay, as you were. :-)
IDI has extended me an offer for permanent employment, and I will be a full time regular employee with benefits starting August 1!
YAY!YAY!YAY!
Okay, as you were. :-)
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Trip to Glacier - Day 3
Today I:
- jouneyed to another country,
- bought a miniature tea set,
- stared into a waterfall,
- played in a creek,
- got unnervingly close to a herd of goats,
- shared seating in a Buick with five of my closest friends,
- read signs in French,
- sang Disney songs to a little girl while waiting for a table,
- found the cutest ladies' room ever,
- ate really bland pasta,
- wished a Canadian happy Fourth of July,
- bought cookies and paid in exact change,
- ate the best ginger snap and best shortbread cookie of my life,
- bought chocolate to share,
- saw a herd of elk, and
- watched the first episode of Firefly (the first one I've ever seen).
Monday, July 17, 2006
Trip to Glacier - Day 2
Today I fall in love with water. Red Eagle Falls and clear as crystal water foaming over rainbow rocks, cold and clean. It dives beneath itself, carrying down tiny bubbles like pearls that flutter and fight their way free to the surface and then . . . disappear.
Water deep and still and almost black in Two Medicine Lake. Not the bright blue-green of some other lakes here because it isn't fed by glacial melt, which carries down a fine limestone silt that suspends in the top feet of water and refracts the entering light. These waves are dark and glassy like obsidian until the water goes gold-green in the shallows, a narrow shining band along the shore.
And the water of Twin Falls, running down the cliffs in double glissando like the arching grand staircases of L'Opera Garnier in Paris, but more musical and more mysterious. Or like arms rushing out to hold the island of rocks they isolate, cherished for some unknown reason.
Water that leaps and rushes, water that waits silently, water that swirls as a trout flicks its tail. Today I fall in love with water, and feel it running through me as I sit and watch. My heart pounds with the beat of the falling water on the rocks. My breath surges in and out like the foam driven below into dark depths, and leaping up again in a soft shimmer. And when I leave, it still runs through my mind, cleansing and soothing, the soft thunder drowning out the worries I hear too often, and singing me to sleep.
Water deep and still and almost black in Two Medicine Lake. Not the bright blue-green of some other lakes here because it isn't fed by glacial melt, which carries down a fine limestone silt that suspends in the top feet of water and refracts the entering light. These waves are dark and glassy like obsidian until the water goes gold-green in the shallows, a narrow shining band along the shore.
And the water of Twin Falls, running down the cliffs in double glissando like the arching grand staircases of L'Opera Garnier in Paris, but more musical and more mysterious. Or like arms rushing out to hold the island of rocks they isolate, cherished for some unknown reason.
Water that leaps and rushes, water that waits silently, water that swirls as a trout flicks its tail. Today I fall in love with water, and feel it running through me as I sit and watch. My heart pounds with the beat of the falling water on the rocks. My breath surges in and out like the foam driven below into dark depths, and leaping up again in a soft shimmer. And when I leave, it still runs through my mind, cleansing and soothing, the soft thunder drowning out the worries I hear too often, and singing me to sleep.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Trip to Glacier - Day 1
July 1, 2006
Getting up before the sun does always leaves me disoriented, like I'm dreaming even though I'm awake and walking around in the real world. Kirby Drive is never this empty, and the sky is dark and opaque and heavy on my mind. Bright shop signs and neon lights seem out of place in this dark still world, the only things alert while everything else is groggy and quiet.
It's not often I walk into an airport by myself. Mostly I fly with groups. There's a strange sense of freedom in dropping everything but my back pack at check in. As I walk towards my gate, I have an urge to change my flight and not go to Spokane where I'll meet the rest of my group. The entire country, the entire world seems open to me here, and Hobby airport feels like the center of all things, and a new beginning. I feel like I could flip a coin or spin the wheel and end up . . . anywhere!
Slowly the sun rises, turning back the reflections on the terminal windows and showing me the airfield around me and no longer my own face. The terminal starts to show signs of life where before it was empty except for a few early travelers like me, floating around or huddled in the black seats like the wisps of dreams as they haunt you half-awake. In the surreal dark before dawn, with the windows that point inward instead of outward and the empty gates, you feel like there are secrets here that only you can learn. You touch the slow drowsy pulse of the world, before it wakes up and becomes the heedless headlong breakneck rush that lasts all day and late into the night. Early in the morning, before the sun comes up, the world is asleep, innocent like a child or like an animal. When it wakes up, it will see me already awake and watching it. And until I meet my group later today, this world seems like it's mine alone.
Viva Las Vegas. Flying here was like running from the sun, trying to keep the morning world young the way you want to keep a small child young. It can't be done, and when you land in Vegas, the world is already jaded and old, and the slot machines have come to meet you at the airport. I thought it would be fun to drop the one quarter I have in my pocket into a slot and take a chance on one pull. But the slots don't take anything lower than a dollar, and I can't bring myself to spend the time it takes to push a button four times, so my quarter is safe for another day.
One thing's for sure, I came to my departure gate way too quickly. I have at least an hour before I board, and I never new the Las Vegas airport was so big. I've never had to change from one terminal to another here, and I walked through parts of this place that I'd never seen before. I knew they had slots, but I had no idea they were practically a little travel-themed casino of their own. Complete with shops filled with beautiful, expensive, and utterly useless things to spend your winnings on. I walked by a stall with inlaid stone globes, porcelain figurines, and cut crystal miniatures. I really should have gawked more along the way. And bought something at the Cinnabon. My part of terminal C is pretty bland, and I'm getting pretty bored. I'd go back, but then I'd have to come through security again. I think I'll go wander around the rest of terminal C and see if things are any more exciting elsewhere.
Addendum: Walked around a dogleg in the corridor of terminal C and found Amy and Teebs. MUCH less bored now!
Land in Spokane, meet Mark, Joanna, Kerri, and Erik, and wait for Will's flight to get in. Once the group is all gathered and we've lunched, we're on the road. Drive from Washington to Idaho and Idaho to Montana. The drive is gorgeous, but I've been traveling far too much, and I'm starting to get car sick. Better after dinner, and finally we're driving south of Glacier, headed to the east side of the park and St. Mary's, where we'll be staying for the first half of the trip. It doesn't get dark until after 11PM, and then the moon is setting in the mountains and the mist is rising off the lake. The evening begins to feel as surreal as the morning did, until finally we pull up at our cabins, unload the vehicles, and finally get in bed and go to sleep.
Getting up before the sun does always leaves me disoriented, like I'm dreaming even though I'm awake and walking around in the real world. Kirby Drive is never this empty, and the sky is dark and opaque and heavy on my mind. Bright shop signs and neon lights seem out of place in this dark still world, the only things alert while everything else is groggy and quiet.
It's not often I walk into an airport by myself. Mostly I fly with groups. There's a strange sense of freedom in dropping everything but my back pack at check in. As I walk towards my gate, I have an urge to change my flight and not go to Spokane where I'll meet the rest of my group. The entire country, the entire world seems open to me here, and Hobby airport feels like the center of all things, and a new beginning. I feel like I could flip a coin or spin the wheel and end up . . . anywhere!
Slowly the sun rises, turning back the reflections on the terminal windows and showing me the airfield around me and no longer my own face. The terminal starts to show signs of life where before it was empty except for a few early travelers like me, floating around or huddled in the black seats like the wisps of dreams as they haunt you half-awake. In the surreal dark before dawn, with the windows that point inward instead of outward and the empty gates, you feel like there are secrets here that only you can learn. You touch the slow drowsy pulse of the world, before it wakes up and becomes the heedless headlong breakneck rush that lasts all day and late into the night. Early in the morning, before the sun comes up, the world is asleep, innocent like a child or like an animal. When it wakes up, it will see me already awake and watching it. And until I meet my group later today, this world seems like it's mine alone.
Viva Las Vegas. Flying here was like running from the sun, trying to keep the morning world young the way you want to keep a small child young. It can't be done, and when you land in Vegas, the world is already jaded and old, and the slot machines have come to meet you at the airport. I thought it would be fun to drop the one quarter I have in my pocket into a slot and take a chance on one pull. But the slots don't take anything lower than a dollar, and I can't bring myself to spend the time it takes to push a button four times, so my quarter is safe for another day.
One thing's for sure, I came to my departure gate way too quickly. I have at least an hour before I board, and I never new the Las Vegas airport was so big. I've never had to change from one terminal to another here, and I walked through parts of this place that I'd never seen before. I knew they had slots, but I had no idea they were practically a little travel-themed casino of their own. Complete with shops filled with beautiful, expensive, and utterly useless things to spend your winnings on. I walked by a stall with inlaid stone globes, porcelain figurines, and cut crystal miniatures. I really should have gawked more along the way. And bought something at the Cinnabon. My part of terminal C is pretty bland, and I'm getting pretty bored. I'd go back, but then I'd have to come through security again. I think I'll go wander around the rest of terminal C and see if things are any more exciting elsewhere.
Addendum: Walked around a dogleg in the corridor of terminal C and found Amy and Teebs. MUCH less bored now!
Land in Spokane, meet Mark, Joanna, Kerri, and Erik, and wait for Will's flight to get in. Once the group is all gathered and we've lunched, we're on the road. Drive from Washington to Idaho and Idaho to Montana. The drive is gorgeous, but I've been traveling far too much, and I'm starting to get car sick. Better after dinner, and finally we're driving south of Glacier, headed to the east side of the park and St. Mary's, where we'll be staying for the first half of the trip. It doesn't get dark until after 11PM, and then the moon is setting in the mountains and the mist is rising off the lake. The evening begins to feel as surreal as the morning did, until finally we pull up at our cabins, unload the vehicles, and finally get in bed and go to sleep.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Back!
And real life set in with a vengence! My alarm didn't go off this morning. I'm incredibly fortunate that after only 5 hours of sleep after a wonderful but exhausting week, I managed to wake up on my own and look at my clock.
So I only slept 25 minute late, launched into warp speed, made it to work on time, and consumed over 60 oz of caffeinated beverage throughout the day.
This morning's drive was a bit nerve wracking, because Otto apparently felt a bit neglected and was acting fairly sulky. A bit squeely and grindy about the brakes. But he cleared up pretty quickly. Almost certainly just a case of a little rust on the break pads from sitting around for a week and a half. So we've made it up, and he was a very good little car after the first few blocks.
Okay, going to go sort through the three tons of mail I received while gone. Sigh. Civilization may have internet, but it also has junk mail.
Look out this week for a little blogging on my wonderful adventures in Glacier National Park. I went to Canada, yo!
So I only slept 25 minute late, launched into warp speed, made it to work on time, and consumed over 60 oz of caffeinated beverage throughout the day.
This morning's drive was a bit nerve wracking, because Otto apparently felt a bit neglected and was acting fairly sulky. A bit squeely and grindy about the brakes. But he cleared up pretty quickly. Almost certainly just a case of a little rust on the break pads from sitting around for a week and a half. So we've made it up, and he was a very good little car after the first few blocks.
Okay, going to go sort through the three tons of mail I received while gone. Sigh. Civilization may have internet, but it also has junk mail.
Look out this week for a little blogging on my wonderful adventures in Glacier National Park. I went to Canada, yo!
Friday, June 30, 2006
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Some people just suck . . .
They've made poor Amy's life hell ever since she moved to her new home and job, holding all her stuff for ransom, practically! More inclined to shout obscenities at these people than I can ever remember having been before. If you ever need to move, and I need to move soon, these are people to avoid.
http://sia.lostchicken.com/users/aibarr/104039.html
Poor Amy. Hugs. I'm going to go be grumpy now. Or maybe go have cookies sent to her new home. Sigh.
http://sia.lostchicken.com/users/aibarr/104039.html
Poor Amy. Hugs. I'm going to go be grumpy now. Or maybe go have cookies sent to her new home. Sigh.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Chasing Blue Sky
Chasing blue sky with the end of the world in the rear view mirror. Riding the storm like a cresting wave, poised between joy and despair as the light ahead fades, blown away by the tossing wind. The shadow green sky that creeps from behind is a haunting fear that is half desire. The desire to turn and face the fury, be swept up and tumbled down by the darkness. What keeps me flying from it towards that patch of tranquil blue, when tranquility is out of reach? There is a piercing pleasure in knowing that the storm will win, cannot be controled.
But there is power in the race.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Gloop Gloop!
I dreamt all morning of living in a house where when it rained, water seeped in through the floorboards. I got up this morning and emptied the mixing bowls on my bedroom window sill. They were pretty full. I drove off to work this morning in a pouring rain. Three of my coworkers didn't come in because their houses had water in them. I drove by my soon to be new home on the White Oak Bayou this afternoon. Doesn't look like it got flooded, so I think I'll be all right there. Anyone building an ark yet? It's supposed to rain some more.
In other news, how 'bout them RICE OWLS! Still undefeated in Omaha. We play next on Wednesday evening. So I won't be rehearsing with the Houston Concert Band that night! :-P
In other news, how 'bout them RICE OWLS! Still undefeated in Omaha. We play next on Wednesday evening. So I won't be rehearsing with the Houston Concert Band that night! :-P
Friday, June 16, 2006
I can will write good today
I am sooooo drained. Today I did some major overhaul on a document that was so poorly written, I was actually almost crying in frustration. It was sent to me to make sure that punctuation conformed to the client company's standards, and that usage of their trademarked terms was correct per a memo from their legal department.
I couldn't do it. Simply reading this document was like pushing my brain through oatmeal. It was almost as if a second grader had been asked to write an essay on how he fixed his installation bugs over the summer. Punctuation was the least of this writer's worries.
I felt insulted. Honestly. Some one considered this document finished enough to be proofread? Some one wanted to put it into my hands so that it would then bear the stamp of my own work? Look, I bust my butt to completely conceptualize a complex idea, to really understand the issue to be communicated, and then to do so with language that is PROFESSIONAL, is CONCISE, is LUCID. Whoever wrote this document did none of that. And then had the gall to ask that my company check for punctuation and consistent usage of the terms "click" vs. "click on" etc. I'm sorry. No.
On the other hand, I got a key to the office today, and I cashed my first paycheck yesterday. My cousin's getting married tomorrow, and the Rice Owls (as well as two of my best friends) are in Omaha for the College World Series. Life is a net postive at the moment, so I'll just do my best to enjoy it!
I couldn't do it. Simply reading this document was like pushing my brain through oatmeal. It was almost as if a second grader had been asked to write an essay on how he fixed his installation bugs over the summer. Punctuation was the least of this writer's worries.
I felt insulted. Honestly. Some one considered this document finished enough to be proofread? Some one wanted to put it into my hands so that it would then bear the stamp of my own work? Look, I bust my butt to completely conceptualize a complex idea, to really understand the issue to be communicated, and then to do so with language that is PROFESSIONAL, is CONCISE, is LUCID. Whoever wrote this document did none of that. And then had the gall to ask that my company check for punctuation and consistent usage of the terms "click" vs. "click on" etc. I'm sorry. No.
On the other hand, I got a key to the office today, and I cashed my first paycheck yesterday. My cousin's getting married tomorrow, and the Rice Owls (as well as two of my best friends) are in Omaha for the College World Series. Life is a net postive at the moment, so I'll just do my best to enjoy it!
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
OliO
The odds and ends of my life right now. It's possible I'll regret having stayed up to write this when my alarm goes off at 7 AM tomorrow. But I won't regret having spent a few hours with good friends at Brian O'Neill's.
My application for the new apartment got approved today! It's one of those things you never really worry about, but then when you know it's all okay, you realize how much it would have sucked if it wasn't.
I logged client-billable hours today loading boxes onto a dolly and taking them to a coworker's car.
I'm eating pop-tarts and drinking milk right now, and I won't tell you what the date is on the milk bottle because you'll all be appalled, but it smells okay and tastes okay, so it won't kill me, and I can't waste good food, somehow.
Finally, I haven't posted any poetry in a while, so here's one.
My application for the new apartment got approved today! It's one of those things you never really worry about, but then when you know it's all okay, you realize how much it would have sucked if it wasn't.
I logged client-billable hours today loading boxes onto a dolly and taking them to a coworker's car.
I'm eating pop-tarts and drinking milk right now, and I won't tell you what the date is on the milk bottle because you'll all be appalled, but it smells okay and tastes okay, so it won't kill me, and I can't waste good food, somehow.
Finally, I haven't posted any poetry in a while, so here's one.
The sun breaks through the cloudsNight, y'all.
And falls on my head
A benediction
Healing by the laying on of hands
Then it's gone
The hand withdrawn
But the blessing
Lives on.
Friday, June 09, 2006
New Digs!
Well, I was productive today. I signed on a new apartment! Check it out!
http://www.stonewoodapartments.com/home.asp
I'll have a second floor unit with a bayou view. I went and looked at my view. Lots of trees, and the green slopes of the bayou. It's a little smaller than here, and I lose a closet and some pantry room to the balcony, I guess. But it will be a 10 minute drive to work with no highways, and it still has quick freeway access, because it's right off of I-10.
It has a washer and dryer, too! And my apartment will no longer front a street that provides parking for a bar. It's expensive, the new place. But now I have a job, and it's cheaper than anything else comperable in the area.
Most importantly, it's a 4 year old building, not a 30 year old one that leaks!
http://www.stonewoodapartments.com/home.asp
I'll have a second floor unit with a bayou view. I went and looked at my view. Lots of trees, and the green slopes of the bayou. It's a little smaller than here, and I lose a closet and some pantry room to the balcony, I guess. But it will be a 10 minute drive to work with no highways, and it still has quick freeway access, because it's right off of I-10.
It has a washer and dryer, too! And my apartment will no longer front a street that provides parking for a bar. It's expensive, the new place. But now I have a job, and it's cheaper than anything else comperable in the area.
Most importantly, it's a 4 year old building, not a 30 year old one that leaks!
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Drips :-(
I meant to give everyone an update here before this, but things have been a little hectic since Wednesday, when I got a note saying that my apartment complex could not would not fix my leaky window. That the problem is structural, the building is old, and I could either find a way to live with it, or they would be willing to let me out of my lease early with no penalty.
Upon reading this, I cursed and threw my keys across the room, plopped down on the couch, and cried out of sheer frustration. I've worked so hard to make a home for myself here. I've got my pictures on the wall, my china cabinet filled with my miniature tea set collection, my white board, everything set up just the way I want it. I'm close to my friends and my activities and my Rice Owls, and the rent is cheaper than anything I can expect to find nearby. The complex said I might be able to move into another unit here, if/when they find out that one is coming open, but that any unit could be subject to problems like I've been having, and that other units have similar problems, etc. To be honest, it sounded like they'd be happy to be rid of me.
So, in spite of the roots I was starting to put down, and my hopes that I'd be able to settle here for a few years at least and have a little stability, it looks like I'll be moving some time in July or August. My 8 weeks trial at IDI will be up sometime in August, and I'm worried about making a decision before I'm sure I have permanent employment. The 8 weeks might be shortened to 4 if I'm doing a really good job and look like a really good fit, though, so I'm hoping for that.
I especially want things to be solid at IDI before I move because I'm looking at a complex that's up off of East T. C. Jester, just about two feet from the office. It's more expensive than my place now, but it is a little bigger. I wouldn't save enough in gas money to make up for the rent increase, but I *would* save myself some highway driving risks. And when the highway we're talking about is the 59/610 interchange, the West Loop through the Galleria, the West Loop passing over I-10, and the 290/North Loop interchange, well, it seems likely I might be saving myself the cost of a new car. That's some dangerous road. As I well know. Sigh.
I *will* be writing an angry letter to the complex owners. I *will* be reading over my lease agreement. And I *will* be requesting that they pay my relocation expenses. We'll see how that goes. Anyone know a good lawyer?
Upon reading this, I cursed and threw my keys across the room, plopped down on the couch, and cried out of sheer frustration. I've worked so hard to make a home for myself here. I've got my pictures on the wall, my china cabinet filled with my miniature tea set collection, my white board, everything set up just the way I want it. I'm close to my friends and my activities and my Rice Owls, and the rent is cheaper than anything I can expect to find nearby. The complex said I might be able to move into another unit here, if/when they find out that one is coming open, but that any unit could be subject to problems like I've been having, and that other units have similar problems, etc. To be honest, it sounded like they'd be happy to be rid of me.
So, in spite of the roots I was starting to put down, and my hopes that I'd be able to settle here for a few years at least and have a little stability, it looks like I'll be moving some time in July or August. My 8 weeks trial at IDI will be up sometime in August, and I'm worried about making a decision before I'm sure I have permanent employment. The 8 weeks might be shortened to 4 if I'm doing a really good job and look like a really good fit, though, so I'm hoping for that.
I especially want things to be solid at IDI before I move because I'm looking at a complex that's up off of East T. C. Jester, just about two feet from the office. It's more expensive than my place now, but it is a little bigger. I wouldn't save enough in gas money to make up for the rent increase, but I *would* save myself some highway driving risks. And when the highway we're talking about is the 59/610 interchange, the West Loop through the Galleria, the West Loop passing over I-10, and the 290/North Loop interchange, well, it seems likely I might be saving myself the cost of a new car. That's some dangerous road. As I well know. Sigh.
I *will* be writing an angry letter to the complex owners. I *will* be reading over my lease agreement. And I *will* be requesting that they pay my relocation expenses. We'll see how that goes. Anyone know a good lawyer?
New and Improved!
Now for the good news! My first two days at work were FABULOUS! On Thursday I put in 4 client billable hours editing a draft that had been reviewed and marked by the client, incorporating their redlines, adding captions and cross-references, and bringing it in line with the formatting specifications. Friday I overheard the writer I edited for telling the boss that I'd done a really good job! Yay!
On Friday the project lead started me on some web traning. He encouraged me to go at my own pace, take breaks when I needed to, and that he expected it would take me more than one day, and that I would probably finish some time on Monday. At 3:15 in the afternoon I asked him where I could find the rest of the course. He came over and looked at the windows I had open, and looked at me, and said, "So you've done all of these?" And I said, "Yes, and I took the test, here, and got all the questions right."
Him: "You got them all right? Wow!"
Me: "So is there anything else I need to do?"
Him: "No, you're finished. Wow. I was expecting . . . Okay, great! Hmmm."
Me: "So what can I do now?"
Him: "Hmmm. What can I have you do? Give me a few minutes, and I'll try to find something."
So he found me some stuff to read over that explains in detail how the client documents should be structured and formated. I read over that, then went to him with some questions I had about information that was missing. He said those were good points, and if I could please note any suggestions I had . . .
Me: "Oh, should I mark the typos too?"
Him: "There are typos?"
Me: "A few, and some inconsistencies in formatting."
Him: "Please!"
So at 5:00 PM I handed him a redlined copy of the style documents, and asked if there was anything else before I went home. He said, "No. Thanks! I'll have a project ready for you Monday."
I replied, "I'll be ready for a project Monday!"
Next week I'll view an apartment I could move into in early August, and I'll work really hard to shorten my trial period. Wish me luck!
On Friday the project lead started me on some web traning. He encouraged me to go at my own pace, take breaks when I needed to, and that he expected it would take me more than one day, and that I would probably finish some time on Monday. At 3:15 in the afternoon I asked him where I could find the rest of the course. He came over and looked at the windows I had open, and looked at me, and said, "So you've done all of these?" And I said, "Yes, and I took the test, here, and got all the questions right."
Him: "You got them all right? Wow!"
Me: "So is there anything else I need to do?"
Him: "No, you're finished. Wow. I was expecting . . . Okay, great! Hmmm."
Me: "So what can I do now?"
Him: "Hmmm. What can I have you do? Give me a few minutes, and I'll try to find something."
So he found me some stuff to read over that explains in detail how the client documents should be structured and formated. I read over that, then went to him with some questions I had about information that was missing. He said those were good points, and if I could please note any suggestions I had . . .
Me: "Oh, should I mark the typos too?"
Him: "There are typos?"
Me: "A few, and some inconsistencies in formatting."
Him: "Please!"
So at 5:00 PM I handed him a redlined copy of the style documents, and asked if there was anything else before I went home. He said, "No. Thanks! I'll have a project ready for you Monday."
I replied, "I'll be ready for a project Monday!"
Next week I'll view an apartment I could move into in early August, and I'll work really hard to shorten my trial period. Wish me luck!
Monday, May 29, 2006
Guess what!!!
Guess what! It RAINED this morning!
Guess what! My bedroom window STILL leaks!
Guess what! I'm NOT pleased!
Sigh. . . . .
Guess what! My bedroom window STILL leaks!
Guess what! I'm NOT pleased!
Sigh. . . . .
Sunday, May 28, 2006
How 'bout dem Rice Owls?
So, funny story! I got up this morning for church, and went to my closet to get a shirt, and thought, hmmmm, today is Pentecost, right? So I should wear red. Okay. So I get to choir practice, and it turns out I missed a week somewhere. Today is Ascension Sunday, not Pentecost. Oh well. I'll have to dredge up another red shirt for next week.
Anyway, after mass today we had our annual choir lunch at Ninfa's, so it was around 1:30 PM when I got back to my apartment. The Conference USA championship tournament has been going on since Wednesday, and my Rice Owls were slated to play our cross-town rivals, the University of Houston Cougars, in the championship game starting at 1 PM. Now, even though I have a degree from both institutions, there's absolutely no question who I root for. The coogs have a very respectable baseball program, and were second in the conference standings coming into the tournament, but when it comes to choosing between the boys in blue and the boys in red . . . I pick my Rice Owls every time.
By the way, my boys in blue? Yeah, consensus number 1 pick in the three national polls, an RPI of 2, and number 1 in CUSA conference standings, just so you know. In their first season in the conference they've set a new record for winning percentage, and all this in a conference that's stronger in baseball than the one we left. The boys have been on fire!
So I get to my apartment, and decide I'm not really in the mood to face a crowd, so I'll just stay home and watch the game on line. I fire up the computer feed, and, OH NO! My Owls are losing 2-0 going into the 2nd inning. I look down and realize, uh oh, I'm rooting for the wrong team with this red shirt of mine. But I'm not a terribly superstitious fan, so I laugh it off. We got one back in the bottom of the 2nd, but then give up 3 more in the top of the 4th. At that point, I said, out loud and to myself, "Fine, already, I'll go change shirts."
I grab a blue shirt out of the closet and put that on, and settle back down on the couch. Somewhat grumpily and anxiously, I might add. Then! In the bottom of the 4th inning! Rice scores 3! Bottom of the 6th, Savery gets a 2 out 2 run homer, then in the bottom of the 7th we get 2 more runs! U of H didn't score for the rest of the game, and with a final run in the bottom of the 8th my Owls won it 11-5!!! I take full credit of course. :-P
So next weekend we'll host a regional tournament here at Reckling Park. After that comes super-regionals, then . . . drum roll please . . . Omaha. Let's go Rice!!!
Anyway, after mass today we had our annual choir lunch at Ninfa's, so it was around 1:30 PM when I got back to my apartment. The Conference USA championship tournament has been going on since Wednesday, and my Rice Owls were slated to play our cross-town rivals, the University of Houston Cougars, in the championship game starting at 1 PM. Now, even though I have a degree from both institutions, there's absolutely no question who I root for. The coogs have a very respectable baseball program, and were second in the conference standings coming into the tournament, but when it comes to choosing between the boys in blue and the boys in red . . . I pick my Rice Owls every time.
By the way, my boys in blue? Yeah, consensus number 1 pick in the three national polls, an RPI of 2, and number 1 in CUSA conference standings, just so you know. In their first season in the conference they've set a new record for winning percentage, and all this in a conference that's stronger in baseball than the one we left. The boys have been on fire!
So I get to my apartment, and decide I'm not really in the mood to face a crowd, so I'll just stay home and watch the game on line. I fire up the computer feed, and, OH NO! My Owls are losing 2-0 going into the 2nd inning. I look down and realize, uh oh, I'm rooting for the wrong team with this red shirt of mine. But I'm not a terribly superstitious fan, so I laugh it off. We got one back in the bottom of the 2nd, but then give up 3 more in the top of the 4th. At that point, I said, out loud and to myself, "Fine, already, I'll go change shirts."
I grab a blue shirt out of the closet and put that on, and settle back down on the couch. Somewhat grumpily and anxiously, I might add. Then! In the bottom of the 4th inning! Rice scores 3! Bottom of the 6th, Savery gets a 2 out 2 run homer, then in the bottom of the 7th we get 2 more runs! U of H didn't score for the rest of the game, and with a final run in the bottom of the 8th my Owls won it 11-5!!! I take full credit of course. :-P
So next weekend we'll host a regional tournament here at Reckling Park. After that comes super-regionals, then . . . drum roll please . . . Omaha. Let's go Rice!!!
Friday, May 26, 2006
Categorically speaking . . .
So I was totally going to stay up uber-late figuring out how to tag my Scribbledom posts so that they could be sorted into categories, like "Creative Writing" or "Autobiograpical" or "Self Referential." Only, when all is said and done, that looks like a lot of work, and I don't really understand the hacks that might help. So instead I uploaded a buttload of pictures into an album on Facebook, and captioned them. But I still stayed up uber-late. Which is probably why I felt I should share.
Okay, I'll go to bed now.
By the way, this would have gone into the Self Referential category, should it have come into being.
Okay, I'll go to bed now.
By the way, this would have gone into the Self Referential category, should it have come into being.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
And the Winner Is . . . . . . . . .
I think I promised a couple of people an update on my employment status via my blog. I got that all finalized today, so here ya go!
First, the back story for anyone who missed it. I have an engineering degree, yes. And now I have a Masters in English, yes. The intuitive marketable combination (at least while I'm brainstorming the great American novel) is technical writing, so I've interviewed with two firms looking to hire tech writers.
One firm, PROS Revenue Management, develops software to forecast and manage pricing on such things as air plane seats and hotel rooms. In working for them I would be writing about the software. The other firm, IDI, is much smaller, but is entirely composed of tech writers, which are then contracted out to companies in need of documentation. This could run the gamut from software to hardware to process in any field from electronics to oil. I consider this a better fit for my interests and background, since I'm much better with hardware concepts than software. Not that I'd consider myself anything less than stellar at writing about either. :-P
PROS made me a very reasonable offer for an entry level tech writer. IDI topped it. By more than 30%. So I'll be working for IDI, and my first day will be a day trip to New Orleans for the kick off meeting of the project they want to put me on.
I'm on a two month trial at an hourly rate, with no benefits, but I can handle that, because it's what I've been doing for over a year contracting for Augmentix. After that, I'll be making more money than I'd dreamed I'd ever make after quitting the engineering biz. In a nutshell, I am incredibly blessed. They expect a lot from me, but I know I can meet and exceed, because that's just what I do.
I'm excited, but I'm also a little scared. But I know I'm not alone. Not only do I have my friends and family behind me 100%, I am definitely being led, carried, supported, and prodded as needed by the Master. I hope to prove to Him most of all that I can turn to profit the good that He has entrusted to me.
Thanks to everyone for the well wishing and the encouragement and the reminders that everything would work out. You know how I spaz about stuff. I start next week, so keep your fingers crossed for me!
First, the back story for anyone who missed it. I have an engineering degree, yes. And now I have a Masters in English, yes. The intuitive marketable combination (at least while I'm brainstorming the great American novel) is technical writing, so I've interviewed with two firms looking to hire tech writers.
One firm, PROS Revenue Management, develops software to forecast and manage pricing on such things as air plane seats and hotel rooms. In working for them I would be writing about the software. The other firm, IDI, is much smaller, but is entirely composed of tech writers, which are then contracted out to companies in need of documentation. This could run the gamut from software to hardware to process in any field from electronics to oil. I consider this a better fit for my interests and background, since I'm much better with hardware concepts than software. Not that I'd consider myself anything less than stellar at writing about either. :-P
PROS made me a very reasonable offer for an entry level tech writer. IDI topped it. By more than 30%. So I'll be working for IDI, and my first day will be a day trip to New Orleans for the kick off meeting of the project they want to put me on.
I'm on a two month trial at an hourly rate, with no benefits, but I can handle that, because it's what I've been doing for over a year contracting for Augmentix. After that, I'll be making more money than I'd dreamed I'd ever make after quitting the engineering biz. In a nutshell, I am incredibly blessed. They expect a lot from me, but I know I can meet and exceed, because that's just what I do.
I'm excited, but I'm also a little scared. But I know I'm not alone. Not only do I have my friends and family behind me 100%, I am definitely being led, carried, supported, and prodded as needed by the Master. I hope to prove to Him most of all that I can turn to profit the good that He has entrusted to me.
Thanks to everyone for the well wishing and the encouragement and the reminders that everything would work out. You know how I spaz about stuff. I start next week, so keep your fingers crossed for me!
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Daddy's Guitar
"Daddy, can I play?"
"Okay, Babydoll, you pick and I'll finger the notes here. Start with this string."
"Okay, Babydoll, you pick and I'll finger the notes here. Start with this string."
Twinkle, twinkle. . ."Now this string."
. . . little star, how I wonder. . ."Now back to the first string."
. . . what you are. . ."Now. . . right, that it! you're right."
. . . Up above the world so . . ."No, now down."
. . . high . . ."Now back, yeah."
. . . like a diamond in the . . ."Yup."
. . . sky. . .
Twinkle, little star, how I wonder. . .what you are.
* * *
"You recognize this one, don't you? This is Pat's favorite song. Here, I'll play, you sing it for her."
And I'd sing.
"Who tuned this guitar?"
"I did, Daddy."
"Well, you didn't do too bad. But the two highest strings you have to tune using this fret. You use this one for the others, but not the two highest."
"Oh. Oops! I thought it sounded weird."
Sometimes when Daddy was away from home, I'd sit around picking one string after another. Listen to the notes resonate into a chord that sounded like wide, empty spaces under the sky. Like mountains and deserts and the sun setting golden in the west. And like my dad.
When Daddy died, Mom asked me if there was anything I wanted.
"Daddy's guitar."
And I'd sing.
Edelweiss, Edelweiss
Every morning you greet me
Small and white, clean and bright
You look happy to meet me
Blossom of snow may you bloom and grow
Bloom and grow forever
Edelweiss, Edelweiss
Bless my homeland forever
* * *
"Who tuned this guitar?"
"I did, Daddy."
"Well, you didn't do too bad. But the two highest strings you have to tune using this fret. You use this one for the others, but not the two highest."
"Oh. Oops! I thought it sounded weird."
* * *
Sometimes when Daddy was away from home, I'd sit around picking one string after another. Listen to the notes resonate into a chord that sounded like wide, empty spaces under the sky. Like mountains and deserts and the sun setting golden in the west. And like my dad.
E . . . A . . . D . . . G . . . B . . . E
E . . . . A . . . . D . . . . G . . . . B . . . . E
E . . . . . . A . . . . . . D . . . . . . G . . . . . . B . . . . . . . . . . . E
* * *
When Daddy died, Mom asked me if there was anything I wanted.
"Daddy's guitar."
Sunday, May 14, 2006
The Writing on the Wall
You can probably tell a lot about a person based on what's hanging on their walls. Or what isn't, I suppose. I'm sitting here wondering what my walls say about me . . .
I thought I'd inventory my walls in no particular order, but of course I'm too obsessive compulsive for that! So, starting in the living room, from 12 o'clock around clockwise:
It strikes me that above all, what you can learn about me from looking at the stuff on my walls is that I am EXTREMELY proud of my family. Every work of art, every piece of furniture I have that was created by or belonged to them is out and on display. I have carvings my grandfather did. Most of my furniture is from my great-great-aunt's estate, and the china cabinet was my great-grandmother's.
This seems to be a fitting reflection for a day like today. Family pride. I took one of those personality tests once where you're given a list of five animals and you rank them in order of your preference, and then you're given what they stand for, and the ranking you chose indicates their importance in your life. I think they're Tiger, Horse, Sheep, Rat, Pig (and that's the order I rank them in). They signify, respectively, Pride, Family, Love, Career, and Money. Pride and Family. Apparently my walls could have told you that.
I would not be the person I am today without my family, and I happen to like who I am, so I figure I owe some people big for that. Today is the day I pay back with my gratitude a *tiny* portion of that debt. I can't ever pay it back in full, but the beauty is, that's not an obligation. It's a joy. Today is Mother's Day, so . . .
I love you, Mom!
I love you, Momo!
I love you, Grandma!
Love also to Great-Grandma E. and Great-Grandma J. in heaven. It was a blessing to know and be loved by both of you. And Great-Grandma J. and Great-Grandma B., I wish I could have known you.
Thank you to all you wonderful women who *gave* me the person I am.
I thought I'd inventory my walls in no particular order, but of course I'm too obsessive compulsive for that! So, starting in the living room, from 12 o'clock around clockwise:
- A poster with a trumpet and some tulips laying on a piano keyboard.
- Three small oil paintings, two of landscapes by my uncle and one of a village girl by a friend.
- My sheepskin from Rice University. The things are HUGE.
- A white board, where I keep my to do and shopping lists. Did I mention I was a little OC?
- A Big Sur landscape in acrylics, in progress. Been working on that for over 5 years.
- A water color of an oil derrick in an East Texas forest.
- A crucifix above the door.
- A map of Tolkein's Middle Earth.
- Another crucifix above the door.
- A canvas embroidered with a floral still life done by my grandmother.
- A piece of Chinese paper cutting art. I think they're orchids.
- Another flowers on canvas in embroidery floss by Grandma.
- A mirror.
- A promo poster for a George Strait concert I went to back in high school.
- A Blues Brothers 2000 poster.
- A pencil drawing of a Nereid in the ocean that I did a while back.
- 5 band awards and one picture of me in uniform.
It strikes me that above all, what you can learn about me from looking at the stuff on my walls is that I am EXTREMELY proud of my family. Every work of art, every piece of furniture I have that was created by or belonged to them is out and on display. I have carvings my grandfather did. Most of my furniture is from my great-great-aunt's estate, and the china cabinet was my great-grandmother's.
This seems to be a fitting reflection for a day like today. Family pride. I took one of those personality tests once where you're given a list of five animals and you rank them in order of your preference, and then you're given what they stand for, and the ranking you chose indicates their importance in your life. I think they're Tiger, Horse, Sheep, Rat, Pig (and that's the order I rank them in). They signify, respectively, Pride, Family, Love, Career, and Money. Pride and Family. Apparently my walls could have told you that.
I would not be the person I am today without my family, and I happen to like who I am, so I figure I owe some people big for that. Today is the day I pay back with my gratitude a *tiny* portion of that debt. I can't ever pay it back in full, but the beauty is, that's not an obligation. It's a joy. Today is Mother's Day, so . . .
I love you, Mom!
I love you, Momo!
I love you, Grandma!
Love also to Great-Grandma E. and Great-Grandma J. in heaven. It was a blessing to know and be loved by both of you. And Great-Grandma J. and Great-Grandma B., I wish I could have known you.
Thank you to all you wonderful women who *gave* me the person I am.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
D is for . . .
DONE!!!
DEGREE!!!
DIPLOMA!!!
DELIGHTED!!!
DE-STRESSED!!!
I turned in my last assignment today, and now I'll have a chance to clean up this DUMP of an apartment I've been living in. It feels so good to be finished, let me tell you!
Not only am *I* done, but they're actually finally DOING something today about my bedroom window leak! I've been hearing all sorts of construction noises upstairs, and when I got home today there was a guy painting around my window. Kind of DISCONCERTING, that was! But all's well that end's blah blah blah.
I think I'm going to take the evening off and just chill out. Wow. How sweet it is! Tomorrow I'll get to cleaning up. It will be really nice also to live in a tidy DOMICILE once again. Okay, I'm reaching now. Hope everyone's having a great week! Thanks so much to everyone for their support. Couldn't have done it without my friends and family. You are all DA bomb. :-P
DEGREE!!!
DIPLOMA!!!
DELIGHTED!!!
DE-STRESSED!!!
I turned in my last assignment today, and now I'll have a chance to clean up this DUMP of an apartment I've been living in. It feels so good to be finished, let me tell you!
Not only am *I* done, but they're actually finally DOING something today about my bedroom window leak! I've been hearing all sorts of construction noises upstairs, and when I got home today there was a guy painting around my window. Kind of DISCONCERTING, that was! But all's well that end's blah blah blah.
I think I'm going to take the evening off and just chill out. Wow. How sweet it is! Tomorrow I'll get to cleaning up. It will be really nice also to live in a tidy DOMICILE once again. Okay, I'm reaching now. Hope everyone's having a great week! Thanks so much to everyone for their support. Couldn't have done it without my friends and family. You are all DA bomb. :-P
Thursday, May 04, 2006
A is for . . .
Announcements. Of the graduation variety. Those need to go out soon. I've finished both seminar papers, and now there's just the translation project to work on.
The past few days have been really rough. I don't know why dealing with Daddy's death this year was so much harder than last year. Everyone's been so sympathetic and supportive, and I really appreciate it. I've taken down the last three posts since they did their job in helping me get through. I really kinda like my anonymity here, and I prefer not to use actual names, so you'll have to get your Tennyson somewhere else. ;-)
A is also for ALMOST THERE. One more assignment. And a job interview or two. And I'm almost there. . . .
The past few days have been really rough. I don't know why dealing with Daddy's death this year was so much harder than last year. Everyone's been so sympathetic and supportive, and I really appreciate it. I've taken down the last three posts since they did their job in helping me get through. I really kinda like my anonymity here, and I prefer not to use actual names, so you'll have to get your Tennyson somewhere else. ;-)
A is also for ALMOST THERE. One more assignment. And a job interview or two. And I'm almost there. . . .
Friday, April 28, 2006
R is for . . .
Regalia! I have mine! Hat, hood, tassle, and gown with floppy sleeves. I tried it on in the bookstore, and went over to the mirror and had a major EEP moment. I'm happy and excited and terrified all at once, and I almost started crying. :-P
R is also for Rudi Lechner's, best German food in Houston, and I'm completely stuffed, as my dinner seems to be expanding in my tummy.
And finally, R is for READY to be DONE. Two more assignments to go, and they *will* go, I'm sure. But it feels like I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel for brain cells. I am soooooo gunna crash when all this is over. I think on May 15, I'm just not going to get out of bed. Hold all my calls. I'll bring a few cheap detective novels and some granola bars and a pitcher of water into my room Sunday evening, and stay in bed allllll day. Until the evening. When I'll take the longest bubblebath of my life!!! :-P
Thanks everyone for the support and good thoughts. I have the best friends in the world!
Edit: Heh, R is also for Rain. Rained half the morning and half filled the mixing bowls on my bedroom window sill. I really wish they'd figure out what's wrong and fix it. I don't like it when the rain comes inside. GrrrrRRRRRRRR
R is also for Rudi Lechner's, best German food in Houston, and I'm completely stuffed, as my dinner seems to be expanding in my tummy.
And finally, R is for READY to be DONE. Two more assignments to go, and they *will* go, I'm sure. But it feels like I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel for brain cells. I am soooooo gunna crash when all this is over. I think on May 15, I'm just not going to get out of bed. Hold all my calls. I'll bring a few cheap detective novels and some granola bars and a pitcher of water into my room Sunday evening, and stay in bed allllll day. Until the evening. When I'll take the longest bubblebath of my life!!! :-P
Thanks everyone for the support and good thoughts. I have the best friends in the world!
Edit: Heh, R is also for Rain. Rained half the morning and half filled the mixing bowls on my bedroom window sill. I really wish they'd figure out what's wrong and fix it. I don't like it when the rain comes inside. GrrrrRRRRRRRR
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
G is for . . .
God help me. I'm sometimes afraid I won't make it over the next few weeks, but without your help, I never would have made it this far! With your help, and with the blessings of friends, family, and talents that you have given me, I know deep down in here somewhere that I'll be just fine. I just wish I could really *feel* that optimistic.
First of the last four milestones to graduation complete. I presented on my paper in class today, and got a lot of good response and a lot of good and helpful feedback. Looking forward to getting down to that one after I finish the one for Thursday.
First of the last four milestones to graduation complete. I presented on my paper in class today, and got a lot of good response and a lot of good and helpful feedback. Looking forward to getting down to that one after I finish the one for Thursday.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
HONEY BEE SWARM
"Residents please be careful not to distrub [sic] the hive above the canopy in courtyard one - closest to Dincans."Oh, this is what I wanted to see this morning. Especially printed in all caps when my eyes already hurt. I'll spare you the accuracy in capitalization.
"The hive is in the tree."Well I'm glad to hear they were served an eviction notice! Ten bucks says they ignore it.
"They will re-locate hopefully over the weekend."
"The nest was disturb [sic] this AM - so they are just protecting the queen bee."Oh, no, we can't blame the bees. Wouldn't anyone protect their queen if she was disturb? I mean, a bee's gotta do what a bee's gotta do, huh? I wish I had minions to protect me when I'm, heh, disturb.
"We have called a professional and he said he would be here Mon. if the hive has not moved on."Oh, a FORCIBLE eviction! Heh, can I watch?
"Please be alert when outside this weekend."Oh, I'll BEE alert all right! :-P. Maybe I just won't go outside. Bzzzzzzzzz.........
Yes I'm still awake . . .
. . . and no I did *not* meet my stated whiteboard goal. Apparently the whiteboard does not have sufficient authority. Sighhh. Let the insomnia begin.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Promises, promises
Okay, I *promise* I *will* be going silent soon. But first I really needed to pull this one out and dust it off for a beautiful young lady closely related to myself. See the previous Betting Pool post. Hugs all around! Catch y'all later!
The young can love.
We know the power,
The sweetness, the depth,
As well as you.
Though you look at love
Through the years of experience,
That makes my love
No less true.
Going Silent Soon . . . even more than normal
Not that I update every day, but this really ought to be my last one for a while. I have two and a half weeks before one paper is due, and then two more paper things are due the weeks following. I really need to get to work. In the next two weeks I resolve:
This means I will be eating lots of comfort food (fried chicken, ice cream, etc.) and curling up on my couch reading and highlighting and typing furiously. If you wonder at any point in time how I'm doing, picture that and you won't be far from wrong. And if you want to come by and bring me ice cream or fried chicken, just call ahead. It's doubtful I'll say no :-P.
As a quick update, I have an interview on May 1 for a tech writing job with a company called PROS and I have an appointment next week to meet with the owner of IDI to talk about possible opportunities with her company. As soon as things calm down, I'm going to start bugging the prof who promised he try to think of people in the med center for me to talk to about proofing and cite-checking journal submissions.
I'm glad that lent is almost over. Of course, what I gave up for lent is not something I can with a clean conscience bounce right back into as soon as Easter hits, so I will have to have a long talk with myself as to what my goals are in that area. I kinda wish I'd just given up chocolate or something!
All right. Back to my reading. I'll give a full report sometime mid-May, I'm sure. See y'all on the other side!
- NOT to visit my usual blogs every day, only on Sundays.
- NOT to post comments to any and every message board I frequent.
- NOT to visit Myspace just to gaze happily at my cute little profile.
- NOT to watch any season of CSI on DVD.
- NOT to read any books for fun that I haven't already read and can therefore put down at any time.
- NOT to visit with Willie for hours in the band hall, except maybe on Fridays, and *maybe* this Thursday. We'll see how work is going.
This means I will be eating lots of comfort food (fried chicken, ice cream, etc.) and curling up on my couch reading and highlighting and typing furiously. If you wonder at any point in time how I'm doing, picture that and you won't be far from wrong. And if you want to come by and bring me ice cream or fried chicken, just call ahead. It's doubtful I'll say no :-P.
As a quick update, I have an interview on May 1 for a tech writing job with a company called PROS and I have an appointment next week to meet with the owner of IDI to talk about possible opportunities with her company. As soon as things calm down, I'm going to start bugging the prof who promised he try to think of people in the med center for me to talk to about proofing and cite-checking journal submissions.
I'm glad that lent is almost over. Of course, what I gave up for lent is not something I can with a clean conscience bounce right back into as soon as Easter hits, so I will have to have a long talk with myself as to what my goals are in that area. I kinda wish I'd just given up chocolate or something!
All right. Back to my reading. I'll give a full report sometime mid-May, I'm sure. See y'all on the other side!
Thursday, April 06, 2006
To say it's complex is to grossly over-simplify . . .
Other than it's general applicability to life, the title really has nothing to do with today's post. My prof just said something like that in class, and I thought it was hilarious.
As for how class went, well, my head is pounding its way out of my ears, feels like, but I think I actually *got* something Edward Said wrote. This is a real break-through for me! That guy's brilliant, and makes his points deceptively clear. Ow. Stopping thinking now.
In other news, I have had two phone interviews with two different divisions of the same company who both managed to come across my resume (disseminated by a friend who works for that firm). One of them probably isn't for me. It involves lots of travel, which I like in theory, but that's *business* travel, which can get hectic. I kinda like visiting places at a leisurely rate and then coming back home and relaxing. It also involves a lot of face time with clients, and as we all know, I'm excruciatingly shy (no, really, I am!).
The other people I talked to are in the technical services division, which includes the technical writing team. They want to do an on-site interview with me now! Apparently they just don't hire entry level tech writers, but they are, according to my inside sources, all a-buzz about me. And that's just the *first* company I've sent a resume to. I still hate interviews, but this really boosts my confidence, so maybe I'll survive them!
My only real problem right now is the lingering "God, why am I here? What task do you have for me?" problem. I'm pretty sure I'll have that one for a while. All I can do is make the best plans for the future I can and work towards their fulfilment. I'm sure he'll step in at some point. But this lent I've had my own prayer that I thought I would share, now that lent is almost over. Okay, after this I'm going to go take my bubblebath.
As for how class went, well, my head is pounding its way out of my ears, feels like, but I think I actually *got* something Edward Said wrote. This is a real break-through for me! That guy's brilliant, and makes his points deceptively clear. Ow. Stopping thinking now.
In other news, I have had two phone interviews with two different divisions of the same company who both managed to come across my resume (disseminated by a friend who works for that firm). One of them probably isn't for me. It involves lots of travel, which I like in theory, but that's *business* travel, which can get hectic. I kinda like visiting places at a leisurely rate and then coming back home and relaxing. It also involves a lot of face time with clients, and as we all know, I'm excruciatingly shy (no, really, I am!).
The other people I talked to are in the technical services division, which includes the technical writing team. They want to do an on-site interview with me now! Apparently they just don't hire entry level tech writers, but they are, according to my inside sources, all a-buzz about me. And that's just the *first* company I've sent a resume to. I still hate interviews, but this really boosts my confidence, so maybe I'll survive them!
My only real problem right now is the lingering "God, why am I here? What task do you have for me?" problem. I'm pretty sure I'll have that one for a while. All I can do is make the best plans for the future I can and work towards their fulfilment. I'm sure he'll step in at some point. But this lent I've had my own prayer that I thought I would share, now that lent is almost over. Okay, after this I'm going to go take my bubblebath.
May the nails of the cross fix my heart to your purpose.
As you took up your burden, help me take up mine.
Lord, guide my feet on the rough road before me.
Let it be done to me according to thine.
Monday, April 03, 2006
Phobias
It's really strange, sometimes, the things we're scared of, and the things we *aren't*! Me, for example . . .
Heights wig me out. I remember getting giddy climbing a 6 ft. stepladder when I was six to crown the statue of the Holy Virgin in church during a feast day/my first Holy Communion. We have pictures of my dad clutching my arm, and I remember that being the only reason I agreed to climb that ladder. I have nightmares about steep staircases with no handrails, and suspended ladders that end 50 ft. from the ground, and falling elevators.
Snakes, on the other hand, I have absolutely no problem with. Even the poisonous ones don't scare me. I know the Texas species by sight and have a healthy respect for them, but I'll pet and hold non-venomous snakes when I have the opportunity. Same goes for lizards and such. I think they're cute!
Fire . . . okay, this is a big one. Was in a burning house when I was little one time. No one got hurt, everyone got out okay, but I still get reeeeally nervous holding just a little bitty candle during the Easter vigil mass. The rest of the choir laughs at me :-). I'm starting to train myself to trust a lit candle in my apartment, and that's going well, but fire . . . still . . . scary.
Spiders, not a problem. While I don't just luuurve them, and again, I have a healthy respect for the poisonous types, the little guys are welcome to hang out around my pad and eat tiny bugs as needed. Anything that might potentially eat mosquitoes is on my buddy list. I even love bats!
Wasps, though, while they can't kill ya (allergies aside) freak me out. Flying stinging things in general freak me out. I blame my dad for this one. When you idolize your tough-guy father, and he's scared of wasps, I think it tends to rub off. Of course, the root of his complex was starting a truck that had been sitting out on the deer lease, and disturbing the swarm of yellow jackets that had moved in. Hundreds of the evil little buggers pouring in through the air vents would probably give anyone a complex.
All this I've known about myself. But I've just discovered a new weird non-fear of mine. One of my good friends posted on her blog about a tornado that took shingles off her apartment building, and my first reaction was "Oh COOL! Did you get to see anything?" I knew I loved storms with lots of wind and rain and lightning, and I've done stupid things like stand out on the front steps of Autry Court watching the sky when the campos were coming by telling people to go inside because funnel clouds had been spotted. There's just something about an ominously green or yellow cloudy sky and the eerie stillness that fascinates me. Something about the sublime power of nature in her more terrifying moods.
Or maybe I'm just insane, huh?
Heights wig me out. I remember getting giddy climbing a 6 ft. stepladder when I was six to crown the statue of the Holy Virgin in church during a feast day/my first Holy Communion. We have pictures of my dad clutching my arm, and I remember that being the only reason I agreed to climb that ladder. I have nightmares about steep staircases with no handrails, and suspended ladders that end 50 ft. from the ground, and falling elevators.
Snakes, on the other hand, I have absolutely no problem with. Even the poisonous ones don't scare me. I know the Texas species by sight and have a healthy respect for them, but I'll pet and hold non-venomous snakes when I have the opportunity. Same goes for lizards and such. I think they're cute!
Fire . . . okay, this is a big one. Was in a burning house when I was little one time. No one got hurt, everyone got out okay, but I still get reeeeally nervous holding just a little bitty candle during the Easter vigil mass. The rest of the choir laughs at me :-). I'm starting to train myself to trust a lit candle in my apartment, and that's going well, but fire . . . still . . . scary.
Spiders, not a problem. While I don't just luuurve them, and again, I have a healthy respect for the poisonous types, the little guys are welcome to hang out around my pad and eat tiny bugs as needed. Anything that might potentially eat mosquitoes is on my buddy list. I even love bats!
Wasps, though, while they can't kill ya (allergies aside) freak me out. Flying stinging things in general freak me out. I blame my dad for this one. When you idolize your tough-guy father, and he's scared of wasps, I think it tends to rub off. Of course, the root of his complex was starting a truck that had been sitting out on the deer lease, and disturbing the swarm of yellow jackets that had moved in. Hundreds of the evil little buggers pouring in through the air vents would probably give anyone a complex.
All this I've known about myself. But I've just discovered a new weird non-fear of mine. One of my good friends posted on her blog about a tornado that took shingles off her apartment building, and my first reaction was "Oh COOL! Did you get to see anything?" I knew I loved storms with lots of wind and rain and lightning, and I've done stupid things like stand out on the front steps of Autry Court watching the sky when the campos were coming by telling people to go inside because funnel clouds had been spotted. There's just something about an ominously green or yellow cloudy sky and the eerie stillness that fascinates me. Something about the sublime power of nature in her more terrifying moods.
Or maybe I'm just insane, huh?
Saturday, April 01, 2006
I Fail at Life . . . As a Hardcore Computer Geek
This should surprise no one. So I love Google, use GIMP for image editing and GAIM for instant messaging, so what? I just installed GAIM 2.0.0beta3. And I don't like the new sounds. And I don't like any other sounds on my computer. So I googled "GAIM sounds" and, well, I found some sounds.
But the ones on the GAIM pages ask me if I want to download them . . . as . . . text? Uh, why? And why can't I get the task bar button to blink orange when a buddy messages me and I don't have the window up front? Why does looking at these long lists of files I could download make me think of tar balls and having to clean the tar off my feet with Energine after going to the beach as a little kid? And what are all those files supposed to do, and how many of them do I need???? *whimper*
On the other hand, I suddenly find myself encountering deeper essential meanings in Moby Dick. This should frighten us all. This may be the sign of the apocalypse. I think if I couldn't comprehend sarcasm and irony, I would have long since imploded under the weight of my own internal contradictions and the fragmentation of my soul. Or something.
On an up note, I got some *incredible* compliments from the poets in my translation class. We workshopped the first 10 pages of my short story this past Wednesday, and one of the poetry students said he really loved a lot of my sentences, and another said of one of my characters, "He's kind of a brat, isn't he?" (yay, the brattiness translated!) and another said what she liked about my translation is that it doesn't *read* like a translation, it reads like a *story*! And the professor said she wanted to compliment me on the incredible progress I had made in quality *and* quantity of work since the sample I submitted. I actually did a happy dance *in class*! Thank you, God, and St. Jerome.
Now I think I'll go pound out the final ten pages, and maybe start fixing the stuff we all decided we *didn't* like. Happy Beer Bike weekend!
But the ones on the GAIM pages ask me if I want to download them . . . as . . . text? Uh, why? And why can't I get the task bar button to blink orange when a buddy messages me and I don't have the window up front? Why does looking at these long lists of files I could download make me think of tar balls and having to clean the tar off my feet with Energine after going to the beach as a little kid? And what are all those files supposed to do, and how many of them do I need???? *whimper*
On the other hand, I suddenly find myself encountering deeper essential meanings in Moby Dick. This should frighten us all. This may be the sign of the apocalypse. I think if I couldn't comprehend sarcasm and irony, I would have long since imploded under the weight of my own internal contradictions and the fragmentation of my soul. Or something.
On an up note, I got some *incredible* compliments from the poets in my translation class. We workshopped the first 10 pages of my short story this past Wednesday, and one of the poetry students said he really loved a lot of my sentences, and another said of one of my characters, "He's kind of a brat, isn't he?" (yay, the brattiness translated!) and another said what she liked about my translation is that it doesn't *read* like a translation, it reads like a *story*! And the professor said she wanted to compliment me on the incredible progress I had made in quality *and* quantity of work since the sample I submitted. I actually did a happy dance *in class*! Thank you, God, and St. Jerome.
Now I think I'll go pound out the final ten pages, and maybe start fixing the stuff we all decided we *didn't* like. Happy Beer Bike weekend!
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Life is Excsmiting!
When you can't find the perfect word, make one up! My new word, excsmiting, actually means exactly what it says. My life right now is both exciting, and . . . kicking my butt.
Excited about: Graduation Announcements and Regalia ordered: I'm gunna walk this May!
Smitten by (and not in a good way): The 20 page translation project and two 15-20 page seminar papers due before I get there.
Excited about: Drum Major/drum minor interviews for the MOB this weekend, and I get to be on the panel that helps pick them.
Smitten by: I don't get to go to Enchanted Rock this weekend as I'd planned.
Excited about: Soon being gainfully employed so I can buy a new computer and pay off my student loans.
Smitten by: The thought of job interviews, and the fact that I have to update my resume soon and don't have the time.
So in honor of all the insanity, both enjoyable and disturbing, that drives my existence at the moment, here are the two weirdest poems I've ever written. Please . . . just . . . don't ask.
and
I told you not to ask! Sometimes my muse has a warped sense of humor. :-P
Excited about: Graduation Announcements and Regalia ordered: I'm gunna walk this May!
Smitten by (and not in a good way): The 20 page translation project and two 15-20 page seminar papers due before I get there.
Excited about: Drum Major/drum minor interviews for the MOB this weekend, and I get to be on the panel that helps pick them.
Smitten by: I don't get to go to Enchanted Rock this weekend as I'd planned.
Excited about: Soon being gainfully employed so I can buy a new computer and pay off my student loans.
Smitten by: The thought of job interviews, and the fact that I have to update my resume soon and don't have the time.
So in honor of all the insanity, both enjoyable and disturbing, that drives my existence at the moment, here are the two weirdest poems I've ever written. Please . . . just . . . don't ask.
pigeons, pigeons, everywhere,
pigeons, pigeons, in my hair.
pigeons, pigeons, don't be skeerd!
pigeons, pigeons, y'all're weird!
and
"I pity da fool," Mr. T. said,
"Dat don't know a cabbage from dey own head."
"I pity the fool, Mr. T.," said I,
"That doesn't know cabbage falls from the sky."
I told you not to ask! Sometimes my muse has a warped sense of humor. :-P
Sunday, March 26, 2006
OOOOH! Epiphany!
I'm currently reading Moby Dick for my American Romanticism class. I only vaguely remember reading it in high school, and I know I got very little out of it. There was one particular section, though, that I was completely incapable of understanding. Not in the sense that I couldn't divine the essential meaning, but I had no clue what Melville was even saying. Here's the passage:
You see, in my Bibliography and Research Methods class, we had a unit on the manufacture of early printed codex books (books that have a spine and open showing two pages of text at a time are called codex, as opposed to, say, scrolls like they used before). Folio, octavo, and duodecimo are terms to describe how certain books are made. For a folio, the leaves of the book are formed by folding a sheet of paper once, in half, trimming the raw edges, binding, etc. For an octavo volume, the page is folded into eighths (three folds), cut, trimmed, and bound (not necessarily in that order, and not necessarily before being sold). For duodecimo, you fold the page in twelfths. (I think that's three folds, either into thirds then in half, or in half then thirds. It does matter, but not to me, or you either, most likely!)
In general, all sheets of paper being equal, the folio book will be much larger than the octavo and duodecimo. Of course, all sheets were not equal, so in theory, a duodecimo volume could be larger than a folio. This seems kind of a frivolous distinction to make, until you realize that you had to print both sides of a sheet before you folded it. This makes the process for creating each kind of volume pretty different. As if inventing movable type wasn't enough, those printers had to figure out how to lay out the type so that after folding, the pages were all right-side up and in order. And I can barely manage to do manual duplex printing on sheets of paper with no folds intended. Amazing.
I still have no idea what extra-special super-secret hidden meanings for life Moby Dick might hold. To me it's still an incredibly digressive story about a maniac out to kill the whale that maimed him. *Shrug* But at least now I can say that in reading it as a graduate student, I understand it a little better than I did in high school! So there! I guess this Master of Arts degree in English and American Literature will be worth something! :-P Just thought I'd pass the savings on to you.
First: According to magnitude I divide the whales into three primary BOOKS(subdivisible into Chapters), and these shall comprehend them all, both small and large. I. The FOLIO WHALE; II. the OCTAVO WHALE; III. the DUODECIMO WHALE. As the type of the FOLIO I present the Sperm Whale; of the OCTAVO, the Grampus; of the DUODECIMO, the Porpoise.This passage is from Chapter 32, entitled "Cetology." In high school, I really had no idea what was going on here. I gathered that apparently Folio whales were big and Duodecimo whales were small. But I had never heard these terms in biology class, so I was pretty much . . . at sea . . . over the whole distinction. When I read this passage today, I got it!
You see, in my Bibliography and Research Methods class, we had a unit on the manufacture of early printed codex books (books that have a spine and open showing two pages of text at a time are called codex, as opposed to, say, scrolls like they used before). Folio, octavo, and duodecimo are terms to describe how certain books are made. For a folio, the leaves of the book are formed by folding a sheet of paper once, in half, trimming the raw edges, binding, etc. For an octavo volume, the page is folded into eighths (three folds), cut, trimmed, and bound (not necessarily in that order, and not necessarily before being sold). For duodecimo, you fold the page in twelfths. (I think that's three folds, either into thirds then in half, or in half then thirds. It does matter, but not to me, or you either, most likely!)
In general, all sheets of paper being equal, the folio book will be much larger than the octavo and duodecimo. Of course, all sheets were not equal, so in theory, a duodecimo volume could be larger than a folio. This seems kind of a frivolous distinction to make, until you realize that you had to print both sides of a sheet before you folded it. This makes the process for creating each kind of volume pretty different. As if inventing movable type wasn't enough, those printers had to figure out how to lay out the type so that after folding, the pages were all right-side up and in order. And I can barely manage to do manual duplex printing on sheets of paper with no folds intended. Amazing.
I still have no idea what extra-special super-secret hidden meanings for life Moby Dick might hold. To me it's still an incredibly digressive story about a maniac out to kill the whale that maimed him. *Shrug* But at least now I can say that in reading it as a graduate student, I understand it a little better than I did in high school! So there! I guess this Master of Arts degree in English and American Literature will be worth something! :-P Just thought I'd pass the savings on to you.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Shall We Start a Betting Pool?
So, a lovely young lady nearly related to myself has been seeing an awful lot of a particular young gentleman. He's in her A&M geology class (he's also in the corps and plays baritone in the band) and he happens to live in Schertz, the same town her mother lives in. I mention no names. If you know me, you've guessed by now who the young lady is.
When one contacts this young lady via cell phone, one will almost always hear his voice in the background at some point. He and a friend helped her get home for spring break, since she was on medication and shouldn't drive. So he drove her car and his friend drove his. He went out of state over break to visit his girlfriend, but only because he couldn't return or transfer the ticket, and they broke up while he was there.
After he came back, he spent at least some portion of every day in her company. He took her to the dentist, took her with some friends camping, and even offered to take her shopping (she declined in order to actually spend some time with her mother). But apparently, there's nothing there, they're just really good friends. Dude. I wish a guy I liked wanted to spend that much time with me, even if only as friends. So. Any bets on how long this friends thing will last? ;-)
While we're talking about betting pools, if there were any out there on how long it would take my apartment complex to actually do something about the leak over my bedroom window, then stay tuned. A guy came out Monday to actually look at the window. Then he even looked at the exterior facade. And I believe he might have examined the window of the unit above. Amazing! Water apparently obeys the laws of gravity! And apparently I tend to use italics a lot when I'm being sarcastic.
I've been battling this thing since last August, so who knows what they'll find when they take the wood down and look at the sheetrock. It's not like Houston has an arid sort of climate. But I got a notice today that they will first do repairs on the upstairs window, hopefully this week, then they'll do mine. I'll let y'all know how it goes. The end of this ordeal just might be in sight!
When one contacts this young lady via cell phone, one will almost always hear his voice in the background at some point. He and a friend helped her get home for spring break, since she was on medication and shouldn't drive. So he drove her car and his friend drove his. He went out of state over break to visit his girlfriend, but only because he couldn't return or transfer the ticket, and they broke up while he was there.
After he came back, he spent at least some portion of every day in her company. He took her to the dentist, took her with some friends camping, and even offered to take her shopping (she declined in order to actually spend some time with her mother). But apparently, there's nothing there, they're just really good friends. Dude. I wish a guy I liked wanted to spend that much time with me, even if only as friends. So. Any bets on how long this friends thing will last? ;-)
While we're talking about betting pools, if there were any out there on how long it would take my apartment complex to actually do something about the leak over my bedroom window, then stay tuned. A guy came out Monday to actually look at the window. Then he even looked at the exterior facade. And I believe he might have examined the window of the unit above. Amazing! Water apparently obeys the laws of gravity! And apparently I tend to use italics a lot when I'm being sarcastic.
I've been battling this thing since last August, so who knows what they'll find when they take the wood down and look at the sheetrock. It's not like Houston has an arid sort of climate. But I got a notice today that they will first do repairs on the upstairs window, hopefully this week, then they'll do mine. I'll let y'all know how it goes. The end of this ordeal just might be in sight!
Monday, March 20, 2006
I Fail at Life . . . at least life as a wine connoisseur
So, while I was visting Gruene, Texas, with Mom, the kid, and my Godparents over Spring Break, I bought a bottle of wine. Now I like my wine sweet. Like, REALLY sweet. Like, grape juice with a kick. So I bought a bottle of sweet white table wine from the Wimberly Valley vinyard. Mostly, I'm hoping that having it on-hand will help me productively deal with stress-induced insomnia.
Anywho. Decided to have a glass the other evening. Of course, I don't have wine glasses. But hey, a plastic county fair cup will do just as good, right? Oh, wait. I don't have a corkscrew. Never mind. OH! I do have a corkscrew, a little cheap one attached to sort of swiss-army kitchen container-opening tool. Yay.
All right, so I get the corkscrew into the cork, and I pull. This isn't one of the fancy ones with little wingaling lever deallies, so brute force it is. Only, I'm not much of a brute, and can't seem to muster enough force. Apparently the insomnia prevention for that night was the minutes and minutes of tugging that finally wore me out. The idea of breaking the cork and pulling it out in chunks is utterly repulsive to me. So right now there's a bottle of wine with a hole in the cork sitting in my refridgerator, saran wrapped and rubber banded about the neck and cork to keep it fresh. Tomorrow I'll stop by Kroger and get some necessary hardware, I guess. For now, I just feel silly. But hey, it was an adventure!
It comes to mind that it's about time for another poem, and I feel like I'm due for another cute happy little love poem, since my last two were kind of serious. Can't have too much of that! Found this one in the files. Enjoy!
Anywho. Decided to have a glass the other evening. Of course, I don't have wine glasses. But hey, a plastic county fair cup will do just as good, right? Oh, wait. I don't have a corkscrew. Never mind. OH! I do have a corkscrew, a little cheap one attached to sort of swiss-army kitchen container-opening tool. Yay.
All right, so I get the corkscrew into the cork, and I pull. This isn't one of the fancy ones with little wingaling lever deallies, so brute force it is. Only, I'm not much of a brute, and can't seem to muster enough force. Apparently the insomnia prevention for that night was the minutes and minutes of tugging that finally wore me out. The idea of breaking the cork and pulling it out in chunks is utterly repulsive to me. So right now there's a bottle of wine with a hole in the cork sitting in my refridgerator, saran wrapped and rubber banded about the neck and cork to keep it fresh. Tomorrow I'll stop by Kroger and get some necessary hardware, I guess. For now, I just feel silly. But hey, it was an adventure!
It comes to mind that it's about time for another poem, and I feel like I'm due for another cute happy little love poem, since my last two were kind of serious. Can't have too much of that! Found this one in the files. Enjoy!
I've got a certain secret
Simmering inside,
Something rare and special
I'm trying hard to hide.
My secret makes me sparkle.
It also makes me shy,
And when I think about it
I blush to meet your eye.
That look that you just gave me,
I wonder if you knew . . .
I wonder if you've guessed by now
My secret love is you!
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Where I Come From
250 new miles of Hill Country on my car before sunset means today was a fabulous day. The weather ain't half bad either . . . sunny with light clouds, breezy, mid-70s. Perfect, absolutely perfect.
I started out with my hood pointed towards Castroville. Visited the church, where they put sand and fake cactus in the holy water basins for Lent. I'd been wondering about that, because all the churches I've been in lately have still had holy water, and I thought it was supposed to be put away right now. *Shrug* I stopped by the parish offices and found out where Mrs. Winnie Karm was buried. Mrs. Karm was my confirmation sponsor, and the most beautifully kind, generous, and sweet natured, saintly woman I have ever known. She never had a bad word to say about anyone, no matter how much they deserved it. I wish I was more like her, so I'll have to work on that.
After paying my respects to her, I decided to drive by my old home. Turns out they're widening FM 471 to two lanes each way, and I had to sit and wait for the pilot truck just north of Rio Medina. Chatted quite a bit with the very friendly flag man, Javier (his wife's name is Laura too, and he has a six-year-old son and an almost three-year-old daughter). He told me the road was under construction up to the Old Medina Lake Road turn-off. OML was fine, though, which was the road I needed. Made it out to the old home without further delay, and was sad to see that it's been too dry for the blue-bonnets to really bloom out. There were a few making a good show at the top of the hill, but the ones Daddy planted by our gate haven't made an appearance. Once we get a good rain, though, as long as the new owners don't mow too soon, they'll be gorgeous, I'm sure.
I didn't stay too long there, because it was making me cry, so I headed up north on 1283. Got past the turn off to the dam, and crested a big hill, and that's when I saw what I needed to see. The hills arched their backs into the sky, and as far as I could see, the road and I were the only signs of civilization. A quick glance to the left at just the right spot (was driving, so no more than a glance of course) showed me Medina Lake. What a beautiful blue! I wouldn't have traded that one quick glance for a hundred dollars. A thousand, though, maybe ;-).
I hit highway 16 in Pipe Creek, took that into and out of Bandera, and stopped in Medina at the Love Creek Apple Orchard. Picked up some cinnamon pecans to snack on. I highly recommend them. It looks like there's quite a bit of undeveloped land between Medina and Kerville, and I found a few ranches that I'll consider buying, once I win the lottery. Hah. I saw some trees blooming in the hills, with what looked like small magenta flowers. I don't know what they are. Not enough silver to be sage, I don't think. And too far west to be redbud trees, right? I'll have to look them up. Took 16 up through Kerrville to Fredericksburg. I like Fredericksburg; it's such a cute little town. Turned east finally on Highway 290, which is the point at which I always consider myself as heading home, even if does still mean 2 hours on the road.
I stopped at the Dutchman's Market, a little meat market, to pick up some of the sausage Mom really likes. Then one last stop at the Circle E candle plant to pick up a candle for my apartment (I got the Orange Vanilla one, fruity without being either too perfumey or too foody). Then I drove back to Schertz with little more incident than several cars who thought the extra climbing lanes were for them to go slow in (GRRRR). I head back to Houston tomorrow morning, so I hope I've gotten enough of my Hill Country fix. If not, well, I'm coming back to Enchanted Rock first weekend of April. For now I'm happy and sleepy and my gas-pedal leg is sore. What a wonderful day!
I started out with my hood pointed towards Castroville. Visited the church, where they put sand and fake cactus in the holy water basins for Lent. I'd been wondering about that, because all the churches I've been in lately have still had holy water, and I thought it was supposed to be put away right now. *Shrug* I stopped by the parish offices and found out where Mrs. Winnie Karm was buried. Mrs. Karm was my confirmation sponsor, and the most beautifully kind, generous, and sweet natured, saintly woman I have ever known. She never had a bad word to say about anyone, no matter how much they deserved it. I wish I was more like her, so I'll have to work on that.
After paying my respects to her, I decided to drive by my old home. Turns out they're widening FM 471 to two lanes each way, and I had to sit and wait for the pilot truck just north of Rio Medina. Chatted quite a bit with the very friendly flag man, Javier (his wife's name is Laura too, and he has a six-year-old son and an almost three-year-old daughter). He told me the road was under construction up to the Old Medina Lake Road turn-off. OML was fine, though, which was the road I needed. Made it out to the old home without further delay, and was sad to see that it's been too dry for the blue-bonnets to really bloom out. There were a few making a good show at the top of the hill, but the ones Daddy planted by our gate haven't made an appearance. Once we get a good rain, though, as long as the new owners don't mow too soon, they'll be gorgeous, I'm sure.
I didn't stay too long there, because it was making me cry, so I headed up north on 1283. Got past the turn off to the dam, and crested a big hill, and that's when I saw what I needed to see. The hills arched their backs into the sky, and as far as I could see, the road and I were the only signs of civilization. A quick glance to the left at just the right spot (was driving, so no more than a glance of course) showed me Medina Lake. What a beautiful blue! I wouldn't have traded that one quick glance for a hundred dollars. A thousand, though, maybe ;-).
I hit highway 16 in Pipe Creek, took that into and out of Bandera, and stopped in Medina at the Love Creek Apple Orchard. Picked up some cinnamon pecans to snack on. I highly recommend them. It looks like there's quite a bit of undeveloped land between Medina and Kerville, and I found a few ranches that I'll consider buying, once I win the lottery. Hah. I saw some trees blooming in the hills, with what looked like small magenta flowers. I don't know what they are. Not enough silver to be sage, I don't think. And too far west to be redbud trees, right? I'll have to look them up. Took 16 up through Kerrville to Fredericksburg. I like Fredericksburg; it's such a cute little town. Turned east finally on Highway 290, which is the point at which I always consider myself as heading home, even if does still mean 2 hours on the road.
I stopped at the Dutchman's Market, a little meat market, to pick up some of the sausage Mom really likes. Then one last stop at the Circle E candle plant to pick up a candle for my apartment (I got the Orange Vanilla one, fruity without being either too perfumey or too foody). Then I drove back to Schertz with little more incident than several cars who thought the extra climbing lanes were for them to go slow in (GRRRR). I head back to Houston tomorrow morning, so I hope I've gotten enough of my Hill Country fix. If not, well, I'm coming back to Enchanted Rock first weekend of April. For now I'm happy and sleepy and my gas-pedal leg is sore. What a wonderful day!
Friday, March 10, 2006
Rejoice with me because I have found the coin that I lost.
Luke 15:9
Today dropped into the palm of my hand like a blessing, like an olive branch. While I was packing to come home for Spring Break, I finally, finally found it! My great-grandmother's cross of silver and marcasite that I hadn't seen since Thanksgiving. I found it in a pocket of my bag that I'd searched five times already. Call it oversight if you want, I call it a miracle. I had completely given up hope. This was worth so much more to me than any coin; I've lost so many of my loved ones over the past ten years that I've learned to value the tiniest keepsake.
This cross has a beauty for me beyond the metal and stones, and beyond the blessed memories of a gracious and lovely woman. I had gotten into the habit of wearing my cross each lent as a reminder and as a strengthener of my resolutions. I had missed it very much this year. When it came out of that pocket, I couldn't believe it. I clasped it to my heart and started crying. I thank God for bringing it back to me on a day when I needed it the most.
Some of you who read this will know the demons I've been struggling against. Some of you will have comforted me during the dark, faith-lacking times I've been through. I got more back today than a cross. To me, this is a sign that I am finally, finally on the right track again.
This day hasn't been perfect. I found out I owe a lot more money in taxes than I thought (stupid contracting work) and I almost got plowed by an RV driving from Houston to Schertz today (stupid people not checking mirrors before changing lanes). But it really is a lovely day. The sun is shining and the sky is blue. The air here has a hot, dry smell. There were blue bonnets and primroses all along the highway, and my heart was so light that I almost took Otto up to 100 MPH without noticing it! Not optimal, but I do love the feel of the highway under me when I'm driving too fast :-P.
Lent is supposed to be a time of reflection, a solemn time when we take a good look at ourselves. I've been trying to do that even more this year, but today I could not suppress the pure joy of just being. Today was a gift for which I am grateful. I have found what I had lost; rejoice with me!
Today dropped into the palm of my hand like a blessing, like an olive branch. While I was packing to come home for Spring Break, I finally, finally found it! My great-grandmother's cross of silver and marcasite that I hadn't seen since Thanksgiving. I found it in a pocket of my bag that I'd searched five times already. Call it oversight if you want, I call it a miracle. I had completely given up hope. This was worth so much more to me than any coin; I've lost so many of my loved ones over the past ten years that I've learned to value the tiniest keepsake.
This cross has a beauty for me beyond the metal and stones, and beyond the blessed memories of a gracious and lovely woman. I had gotten into the habit of wearing my cross each lent as a reminder and as a strengthener of my resolutions. I had missed it very much this year. When it came out of that pocket, I couldn't believe it. I clasped it to my heart and started crying. I thank God for bringing it back to me on a day when I needed it the most.
Some of you who read this will know the demons I've been struggling against. Some of you will have comforted me during the dark, faith-lacking times I've been through. I got more back today than a cross. To me, this is a sign that I am finally, finally on the right track again.
This day hasn't been perfect. I found out I owe a lot more money in taxes than I thought (stupid contracting work) and I almost got plowed by an RV driving from Houston to Schertz today (stupid people not checking mirrors before changing lanes). But it really is a lovely day. The sun is shining and the sky is blue. The air here has a hot, dry smell. There were blue bonnets and primroses all along the highway, and my heart was so light that I almost took Otto up to 100 MPH without noticing it! Not optimal, but I do love the feel of the highway under me when I'm driving too fast :-P.
Lent is supposed to be a time of reflection, a solemn time when we take a good look at ourselves. I've been trying to do that even more this year, but today I could not suppress the pure joy of just being. Today was a gift for which I am grateful. I have found what I had lost; rejoice with me!
Face Recognition: I Approve
Got this link from a friend's blog:
http://www.myheritage.com/FP/Company/tryFaceRecognition.php?s=1&u=g0&lang=EN
I uploaded the following pictures and got matched to the following celebrities, among whom are some of the most beautiful women I can think of, so I must be cute :-P.
Matched with:
Cate Blanchett (wow)
Katherine Hepburn
Isabelle Huppert
Matched with:
Shirley Temple (heh, grrreeeeeaaat)
Rachel Corrie (who?)
Sophie Marceau (wow)
Gwyneth Paltrow (double wow)
For what it's worth, I matched with more men than I did women. Among those were Albert Einstein (Hah!) , Mel Gibson, Marlon Brando, and Gene Kelley. NOT sure I understand all that, but very interesting. I think it has a lot to do with facial expression and angle. The photo they had of Cate Blanchett that matched my top pic was almost identical to mine in expression and angle (though I *do* have similar cheek bones and nose, it looked like, so yay!).
All in all, yes, a very entertaining waste of time!
http://www.myheritage.com/FP/Company/tryFaceRecognition.php?s=1&u=g0&lang=EN
I uploaded the following pictures and got matched to the following celebrities, among whom are some of the most beautiful women I can think of, so I must be cute :-P.
Matched with:
Cate Blanchett (wow)
Katherine Hepburn
Isabelle Huppert
Matched with:
Shirley Temple (heh, grrreeeeeaaat)
Rachel Corrie (who?)
Sophie Marceau (wow)
Gwyneth Paltrow (double wow)
For what it's worth, I matched with more men than I did women. Among those were Albert Einstein (Hah!) , Mel Gibson, Marlon Brando, and Gene Kelley. NOT sure I understand all that, but very interesting. I think it has a lot to do with facial expression and angle. The photo they had of Cate Blanchett that matched my top pic was almost identical to mine in expression and angle (though I *do* have similar cheek bones and nose, it looked like, so yay!).
All in all, yes, a very entertaining waste of time!
Monday, March 06, 2006
The Mountain Laurel Is Blooming Back Home
I did a lot of growing up in the Texas Hill Country. We moved out to the hills northwest of San Antonio when I was eight, and when I left home for Rice at eighteen, I was still in love with a land where it seems like secrets lie hidden just over the next hill, in a quiet limestone crag under dark and somber cedar. They lie there and you never want anyone to find them.It's the spring time when I miss it most. There are a few mountain laurel trees around here, planted as decorative shrubs, and they're in full bloom right now. I can't begin to describe what these bunches of blossoms smell like. It's a grapey, winey, heady sort of smell. To me it's the closest thing I can think of to nectar and ambrosia. But you can never enjoy them on a manicured green lawn the way you can when they leap up out of the cactus and brush on a rocky hillside. Something so soft and polished and sweet in a land where almost every native thing scratches, pricks, bites, or stings.
I remember an evening years ago in the early spring. The sun had set and the sky was a soft lavender. The entire orb of the moon was visible, but only the narrowest crescent glowed, along with one faintest star. A warm wind floated off the hillside to the north, and carried with it this heavenly smell, a smell of springtime and warmth and beauty, that seemed to pour from the sky itself. The fireflies came out in the trees as the stars came out in the darkening sky. Somehow those hours have lasted years for me.
Now that Mom has sold that house, and lives in suburbian Schertz, Texas, I feel like I don't have a home to go back to. Only a house. Things change.
An east wind blows my mind into the wild.
I long for gleams of ever-setting suns
To light the deserts, hills, and mountain tops
And burn the canyon lips like brandy-wine.
My soul would fly on fire o'er golden lands,
Rocks never by the ocean's wash subdued
But stretching ever on and on
Beneath the rays of setting sun.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
No-Reason Blues
I'm having a day. I have them sometimes. Sometimes there's a reason, sometimes not. Here's a poem to suit my mood.
When she comesI don't suppose I'm as depressed as all that. For one thing, I'm not crying at the moment. But I just found that among some papers, and it fits with the sort of gray solemnity I'm feeling. It doesn't help that the gorgeous weather we're having is driving me indoors by encouraging the oak trees to bloom! I can't even open the windows! I'm about to go up to Dallas for a couple of days, where it's supposed to be rainy. Maybe my mood will prove to be inversely proportional to the weather . . .
She comes alone
And sits beside the fading stone.
She waters the silk flowers with her tears
And bows beneath the weight of wasted years.
Others come in twos and threes,
Leave flowers fresh as memories.
But when she comes, she comes alone.
Leaves only tears
Beside the stone.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)