Buon Viaggio
well, i'm off to Italy for 2 weeks, staying on an island about 1/4 mile long, 12 acres total, south of Venice. Much glassblowing, much heat, and hopefully much fun. I hope I don't run out of money...word on the canals is that Venezia is molto caro. Mom just asked me if I was going 'cold turkey' and leaving my computer at home (oh, and I do quote), and I guess that's about right. Back to the Old World, even if a modern version of it. Wish me luck!
If, on a winter's night a traveler outside the town of Malbork, leaning from a steep slope without fear of wind or vertigo, looks down into the gathering shadow...on the carpet of leaves illuminated by the moon around an empty grave, what story there awaits its end? -italo calvino
Thursday, July 31, 2003
Tuesday, July 29, 2003
American Dream?
Go alone: crawl--stumble--stagger--but go alone." -Charles Rennie Mackintosh (Art Nouveau architect extraordinaire)
Gaudi and his buds are awesome; Mackintosh was a genius, to be sure...but is that really sound advice for anyone?
The whole narcissistic quality of individualism kind of scares me. I mean, being "different" or unique seems great and all, but let's be honest; it's not exactly plausible. Not everyone is a Mozart, however arrogant they might be. Not every tortured soul out there is a great artist. If everyone were, then nobody would stand out. I'm not saying that all of humankind is just a homogenized mass of mediocrity (although sometimes it may seem so), because I'd agree with most people that everyone has their own singularity about them; perhaps what really gets to me is the association of 'specialness' with celebrity. Being famous is another way of telling the world that you're different from everyone else who's *not* on tv, *not* in the papers, that you're special. And that kind of notoriety, merited or not, goes much farther than a nobody from the street/suburbs saying that they're exemplary. Grrr. Whenever I have to be evaluated by other people based on semi-arbitrary guidelines (helloooo grad school...), I get nervous.
I am also reminded (of course, as I am a child of pop culture), of one of the classics of our generation, Dead Poets' Society, in which Robin Williams's idealistic character defends the right of high schoolers to create, dream, and otherwise delude themselves with napoleonic dreams of grandeur, sounding their barbaric "yawps" to the world. But I suppose that learning to think for yourself isn't quite equatable with individuality, even though all the "carpe diem...make your lives extraordinary" shit comes quite close. I don't pretend to be so jaded as to side with the cynical administrator: "Show me the heart unfettered by foolish dreams and I'll show you a happy man," but I firmly believe that out of context readings of Thoreau and Emerson can have quite a warping effect on one's world-view. Literature (and movies, for that matter) should inspire readers to be passionate, arouse some sort of heightened consciousness, and even allow modern cynics such as myself to escape for a little while in lovely words, but "that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse?" Isn't that just a little too trite?
Left without a solution in the end, as usual, but one more quote before I go: John Keating: "Sucking all the marrow out of life doesn't mean choking on the bone."
Back to the unfinished essay; why is it so hard to convey sarcasm in writing? Perhaps irony is best left out of grant proposals, as dear to my heart as it may be.
Gaudi and his buds are awesome; Mackintosh was a genius, to be sure...but is that really sound advice for anyone?
The whole narcissistic quality of individualism kind of scares me. I mean, being "different" or unique seems great and all, but let's be honest; it's not exactly plausible. Not everyone is a Mozart, however arrogant they might be. Not every tortured soul out there is a great artist. If everyone were, then nobody would stand out. I'm not saying that all of humankind is just a homogenized mass of mediocrity (although sometimes it may seem so), because I'd agree with most people that everyone has their own singularity about them; perhaps what really gets to me is the association of 'specialness' with celebrity. Being famous is another way of telling the world that you're different from everyone else who's *not* on tv, *not* in the papers, that you're special. And that kind of notoriety, merited or not, goes much farther than a nobody from the street/suburbs saying that they're exemplary. Grrr. Whenever I have to be evaluated by other people based on semi-arbitrary guidelines (helloooo grad school...), I get nervous.
I am also reminded (of course, as I am a child of pop culture), of one of the classics of our generation, Dead Poets' Society, in which Robin Williams's idealistic character defends the right of high schoolers to create, dream, and otherwise delude themselves with napoleonic dreams of grandeur, sounding their barbaric "yawps" to the world. But I suppose that learning to think for yourself isn't quite equatable with individuality, even though all the "carpe diem...make your lives extraordinary" shit comes quite close. I don't pretend to be so jaded as to side with the cynical administrator: "Show me the heart unfettered by foolish dreams and I'll show you a happy man," but I firmly believe that out of context readings of Thoreau and Emerson can have quite a warping effect on one's world-view. Literature (and movies, for that matter) should inspire readers to be passionate, arouse some sort of heightened consciousness, and even allow modern cynics such as myself to escape for a little while in lovely words, but "that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse?" Isn't that just a little too trite?
Left without a solution in the end, as usual, but one more quote before I go: John Keating: "Sucking all the marrow out of life doesn't mean choking on the bone."
Back to the unfinished essay; why is it so hard to convey sarcasm in writing? Perhaps irony is best left out of grant proposals, as dear to my heart as it may be.
Saturday, July 26, 2003
Our Nation's Capital
What's that? Traveling on the East Coast again? Of course. Also necessitates the weekend in condensed form
Eight (why 8? because it's arbitrary) Reasons why Virginia is Cool, although it may *not* be for lovers
1. Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel: 3 bridges, 2 tunnels, 15+ miles of ocean driving
2. The Eastern Shore: unabashedly rural, salty, and gorgeous
3. Pat Robertson can pray for Supreme Court justices to die, and Va. Beach is still liberal enough to laugh at him for it
4. Institutions such as the VA Governor's Academy for Spanish still get funding
5. People think I'm 'Southern'
6. Vintage chic hasn't gotten this far yet, and one can still buy couches for under $20, and t-shirts for under a buck
7. There's a boutique in Dupont Circle that sells "Save Martha" shirts. I was almost forced to buy one
8. All the Smithsonian Museums are free
I had a fantastic time in D.C., leaving home late Thursday after Alex and I found a way to shove a loveseat, an entire dish set, three chairs, a lamp, and wineglasses from the Veterans' Thrift store into THE van while drizzling, me in miniskirt. We crossed the Bay at sundown, and thanks to my expert driving made it almost to Annapolis by 11:00 pm, many country songs later.
Once in the D.C. metropolitan area, I met up with an assortment of politically minded college students living/working/visiting the district in an impromptu Sweet Briar in Seville reunion. Sigh. Why is it that I have such a weakness for intelligent, self-deprecating sarcasm? Anyway, it was good to see people again, and I bonded over EMJ's experience at the Governor's school this summer. Apparently word on the mean streets of Staunton with regards to myself is "that girl can dance!" Ha. Now that's funny. I guess I can salsa with the best of white girls.
My ex-roommate and I tore up the town (or we just went to Ben and Jerry's in Georgetown) on Friday night, and saw the sights of Dupont/Adams Morgan today, which brought back many old memories of Alex living on Connecticut Ave, and lower school field trips to the museums. I like 'The District' even if it is crawling with Young Republicans at the moment. Great food.
Much in store for the next week or so, getting ready to traverse the Atlantic again, and trying to prepare for school. Seems like everyone and their brother is immersed in GRE/LSAT review that I feel like such a slacker, so I had better get cracking on the fellowship thing. Plus, in the midst of that, my faith in contemporary writing has been renewed, as have found another (shocking!) good book to read. Maybe literature isn't dead after all, even if American culture is sliding into decadence =).
What's that? Traveling on the East Coast again? Of course. Also necessitates the weekend in condensed form
Eight (why 8? because it's arbitrary) Reasons why Virginia is Cool, although it may *not* be for lovers
1. Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel: 3 bridges, 2 tunnels, 15+ miles of ocean driving
2. The Eastern Shore: unabashedly rural, salty, and gorgeous
3. Pat Robertson can pray for Supreme Court justices to die, and Va. Beach is still liberal enough to laugh at him for it
4. Institutions such as the VA Governor's Academy for Spanish still get funding
5. People think I'm 'Southern'
6. Vintage chic hasn't gotten this far yet, and one can still buy couches for under $20, and t-shirts for under a buck
7. There's a boutique in Dupont Circle that sells "Save Martha" shirts. I was almost forced to buy one
8. All the Smithsonian Museums are free
I had a fantastic time in D.C., leaving home late Thursday after Alex and I found a way to shove a loveseat, an entire dish set, three chairs, a lamp, and wineglasses from the Veterans' Thrift store into THE van while drizzling, me in miniskirt. We crossed the Bay at sundown, and thanks to my expert driving made it almost to Annapolis by 11:00 pm, many country songs later.
Once in the D.C. metropolitan area, I met up with an assortment of politically minded college students living/working/visiting the district in an impromptu Sweet Briar in Seville reunion. Sigh. Why is it that I have such a weakness for intelligent, self-deprecating sarcasm? Anyway, it was good to see people again, and I bonded over EMJ's experience at the Governor's school this summer. Apparently word on the mean streets of Staunton with regards to myself is "that girl can dance!" Ha. Now that's funny. I guess I can salsa with the best of white girls.
My ex-roommate and I tore up the town (or we just went to Ben and Jerry's in Georgetown) on Friday night, and saw the sights of Dupont/Adams Morgan today, which brought back many old memories of Alex living on Connecticut Ave, and lower school field trips to the museums. I like 'The District' even if it is crawling with Young Republicans at the moment. Great food.
Much in store for the next week or so, getting ready to traverse the Atlantic again, and trying to prepare for school. Seems like everyone and their brother is immersed in GRE/LSAT review that I feel like such a slacker, so I had better get cracking on the fellowship thing. Plus, in the midst of that, my faith in contemporary writing has been renewed, as have found another (shocking!) good book to read. Maybe literature isn't dead after all, even if American culture is sliding into decadence =).
Wednesday, July 23, 2003
Not Yet One and Twenty
Aah, Austen. My sister and I have just finished the annual viewing of the Pride and Prejudice minseries, and I wish that like Miss Bennet, I could refer to myself as "not yet one and twenty" instead of telling people all the time that no, I am indeed not twenty one yet. It's some sort of sick ritual, this fully interactive movie watching. I still yell at Mr. Darcy in the first two scenes, and every time that their mother speaks, pillows on the couch get punched, squeezed; the trip to Pemberly is always a surprise, and the ending deliciously drawn out and repressed. I remember the very first time I watched it, the summer after 10th grade, after a sleepover at a soccer friend's house when we started the first tape at noon, after brunch, and stayed glued to the couch until the sun had set. Everyone seemed so much older then, so much more mature and worldly. After reading the book several times, it's still hard to believe that now I, like Elizabeth, am not yet one and twenty. I suppose that everything was distorted back then, as far as ages goes, and social norms for that matter. The fact that a girl living alone with her boyfriend could cause irreprable ruin to an entire family's social status seems laughable now, making the timelessness of the whole Mr. Darcy/Miss Bennet thing that much more impressive. True, as far as the A&E thing goes, a lot of the appeal has to do with Colin Firth himself, and the lovely Jennifer Ehle.
I've now indulged my more girly tendencies (which I'm not *always* ashamed to own up to), and now have a date with the Dremmel to work on the car. Sparks will fly. Literally. Doesn't it say somewhere that girls who can operate power tools are cool? I sure as hell hope so.
Mmm, snacks of fresh cherry tomatoes from the garden; it really must be summer =).
I've now indulged my more girly tendencies (which I'm not *always* ashamed to own up to), and now have a date with the Dremmel to work on the car. Sparks will fly. Literally. Doesn't it say somewhere that girls who can operate power tools are cool? I sure as hell hope so.
Mmm, snacks of fresh cherry tomatoes from the garden; it really must be summer =).
Monday, July 21, 2003
Death to Technology...
Well, I fought a losing battle against the cable internet company/computer for almost a week, and I'm finally back with a functioning connection. Why can't things behave logically when you want them to? Thoroughly frustrated with life and modems, I had to get out of the house. It was a good thing that my dad needed a ride to the airport this afternoon, because instead of subjecting myself to the seemingly inevitable traffic on 64, I took the long way through the azalea gardens and drove over the bay down Shore Drive, windows down with the afternoon sun coming gently through the trees as my favorite radio station cranked out one great song after another. I really shouldn't be quite so tied to things involving the internet, but it's sooo tempting when it's just sitting there in the next room.
I also should be a little less eager to hurt the computer when it does nasty things. I was definitely throwing books at it in the past few days, consciously aware that me assaulting the monitor with reading material would in no way improve the functioning of the hard drive, but it did wonders for my frustration.
Instead, I retreat to the kitchen and bake. My angelfood cake was slightly deflated due to lack of egg whites, but at least it took my mind off of mom bitching at me for having "broken" the computer. It has also come to my attention that I was less than comprehensive in my last cookie-mailing so i'm going to have to remedy that tonight perhaps.
"The Restaurant" was slightly dissappointing for several reasons: chef Rocco already has two rather successful Manhattan dining establishments, so the whole drama of starting something new loses a lot of authenticity right off the bat; secondly, it seems to be more about the drama between the waitstaff rather than the acutal cooking, so that stinks; thirdly, Rocco is a whining little child, even if he can cook. I'm so tired of celebrity chefs; why's it always gotta be about showmanship? Alas. Off for a run, I suppose, and a little "me" time.
Well, I fought a losing battle against the cable internet company/computer for almost a week, and I'm finally back with a functioning connection. Why can't things behave logically when you want them to? Thoroughly frustrated with life and modems, I had to get out of the house. It was a good thing that my dad needed a ride to the airport this afternoon, because instead of subjecting myself to the seemingly inevitable traffic on 64, I took the long way through the azalea gardens and drove over the bay down Shore Drive, windows down with the afternoon sun coming gently through the trees as my favorite radio station cranked out one great song after another. I really shouldn't be quite so tied to things involving the internet, but it's sooo tempting when it's just sitting there in the next room.
I also should be a little less eager to hurt the computer when it does nasty things. I was definitely throwing books at it in the past few days, consciously aware that me assaulting the monitor with reading material would in no way improve the functioning of the hard drive, but it did wonders for my frustration.
Instead, I retreat to the kitchen and bake. My angelfood cake was slightly deflated due to lack of egg whites, but at least it took my mind off of mom bitching at me for having "broken" the computer. It has also come to my attention that I was less than comprehensive in my last cookie-mailing so i'm going to have to remedy that tonight perhaps.
"The Restaurant" was slightly dissappointing for several reasons: chef Rocco already has two rather successful Manhattan dining establishments, so the whole drama of starting something new loses a lot of authenticity right off the bat; secondly, it seems to be more about the drama between the waitstaff rather than the acutal cooking, so that stinks; thirdly, Rocco is a whining little child, even if he can cook. I'm so tired of celebrity chefs; why's it always gotta be about showmanship? Alas. Off for a run, I suppose, and a little "me" time.
Sunday, July 20, 2003
it's been a great weekend; one of those times when I realize that summertime in Virginia Beach is fun. Driving back from our old haunt on 72nd street with an old highschool friend that i hadn't seen in over a year, hair salty from the ocean, still sleepy from my nap on the sand, listening to bad Justin Timberlake hip-hop in the car (and loving it) it felt like a real summer day. Like those days that make you forget about whatever else in the world may be going on, and enjoy good food, family, and friends.
I also cooked rockfish last night; I'm talking a 5.5 lb. beauty straight from the bay, fins tails and all, right on the grill. I love Chesapeake seafood, a cold glass of pinot grigio, and fresh homemade bread. Does it get much better than that? I'm not sure that it does. On top of all of that (in addition to the tomato burre blanc sauce), mom treated Christine and me to a repeat viewing of Pirates of the Caribbean. So much fun, yet again.
It's also summer thunderstorm season, which, while it's quite an adrenaline rush, and super fun at night, wreaked havoc on my automotive restoration endeavors. The damn hood rusted where I'd been sanding, so that puts me back at least another day on the flaming minivan. Damn shame.
The new reality TV show "Restaurant" starts up tonight, and for as much as I hate those manufactured fake attempts at "real life" I'm going to be suckered in to at least the first episode of 'behind the scenes' at a real professional kitchen. I've also been suckered into using too many quotation marks. Maybe I'll be able to justify the show as being research for the Watson, but I feel as though that's a bit far-fetched.
Well, back to entertaining my guest, and family bonding 'round the glowing television set. Who'd have thought that the Tour de France would have captivated my family so?
I also cooked rockfish last night; I'm talking a 5.5 lb. beauty straight from the bay, fins tails and all, right on the grill. I love Chesapeake seafood, a cold glass of pinot grigio, and fresh homemade bread. Does it get much better than that? I'm not sure that it does. On top of all of that (in addition to the tomato burre blanc sauce), mom treated Christine and me to a repeat viewing of Pirates of the Caribbean. So much fun, yet again.
It's also summer thunderstorm season, which, while it's quite an adrenaline rush, and super fun at night, wreaked havoc on my automotive restoration endeavors. The damn hood rusted where I'd been sanding, so that puts me back at least another day on the flaming minivan. Damn shame.
The new reality TV show "Restaurant" starts up tonight, and for as much as I hate those manufactured fake attempts at "real life" I'm going to be suckered in to at least the first episode of 'behind the scenes' at a real professional kitchen. I've also been suckered into using too many quotation marks. Maybe I'll be able to justify the show as being research for the Watson, but I feel as though that's a bit far-fetched.
Well, back to entertaining my guest, and family bonding 'round the glowing television set. Who'd have thought that the Tour de France would have captivated my family so?
Thursday, July 17, 2003
Grr on old computers. My family has an ancient gateway that is waaay tempramental, and I think that it officially pooped out this morning. Bit the big one, won't even start up. It's like watching a small animal die. I expected sparks or something. Anyway, that's frustrating, but whatever. In the meantime, the sander comes out of the garage, and work on the minivan begins.
Wednesday, July 16, 2003
Big Apple
I love NYC, just wish it weren't so damn expensive. Once again, fantastic times were had in Manhattan with the other 2/3 of the fantastic Cape Henry alumna trio. Two guys, independent of each other asked if we were "Charlie's Angels, or something" when we went out together on Saturday night. It's good stuff.
Top 10 moments of the weekend
10. Naked man on 3rd Avenue trapped inside a laundromat, yelling and pounding on the door at 1:30 am
9. Walking through "The Strand" bookstore in the Village and finding a 1975 hardbound copy of Don Juan for just $15. I [heart] Lord Byron
8. Being treated to dinner by Rachael's freshman year roomate and her parents at a restaurant called "Don Quijote." Troubadors serenaded us with 'Guantanamera;' I was having a hard time keeping a straight face.
7. Mandi and Me threatening to pretend to be lesbian lovers during aforementioned dinner. Hey, we *were* in Chelsea after all.
6. Large latino guy next to me in the subway on his way to the Bronx carrrying vintage Mary Poppins record album and 1960's Candyland game, and extolling collectable boardgames
5. Listening in to super-anal fashion designer tell friend at lunch about his interviews with European fashion houses in Paris and Milan, while eating challah french toast in 2nd Avenue Deli
4. Sipping merlot and debating museum sociology in the Asian pottery wing on the 2nd floor of the Met, post fashion exhibit
3. Seeing Pirates of the Caribbean in digital projection after the best cheesecake ever. I love Orlando Bloom, just for the record.
2. Clubbing at GO, 8th Avenue, and getting the VIP treatment (private table in the corner, free champagne, me entering sans ID), even though we were clearly only VIPs because Mandi knows the manager
1. The "I'm OK, you're OK Dinner" with Mandi, remeniscing with only a slight amount of nostalgia about high school, with black truffle gnocchi and tiramisu, AND mom calling to tell me that Italy is indeed a go.
Now that I'm back at the beach, it's time to do all that stuff that i've got on my list of summer projects, even though the summer is quickly winding down. Fellowships, yardwork, kicking my butt back into shape, super quick review of Italian grammar, and all that good stuff. Got caught out in a thunderstorm again when I went running today-I love rain and lightning =).
Top 10 moments of the weekend
10. Naked man on 3rd Avenue trapped inside a laundromat, yelling and pounding on the door at 1:30 am
9. Walking through "The Strand" bookstore in the Village and finding a 1975 hardbound copy of Don Juan for just $15. I [heart] Lord Byron
8. Being treated to dinner by Rachael's freshman year roomate and her parents at a restaurant called "Don Quijote." Troubadors serenaded us with 'Guantanamera;' I was having a hard time keeping a straight face.
7. Mandi and Me threatening to pretend to be lesbian lovers during aforementioned dinner. Hey, we *were* in Chelsea after all.
6. Large latino guy next to me in the subway on his way to the Bronx carrrying vintage Mary Poppins record album and 1960's Candyland game, and extolling collectable boardgames
5. Listening in to super-anal fashion designer tell friend at lunch about his interviews with European fashion houses in Paris and Milan, while eating challah french toast in 2nd Avenue Deli
4. Sipping merlot and debating museum sociology in the Asian pottery wing on the 2nd floor of the Met, post fashion exhibit
3. Seeing Pirates of the Caribbean in digital projection after the best cheesecake ever. I love Orlando Bloom, just for the record.
2. Clubbing at GO, 8th Avenue, and getting the VIP treatment (private table in the corner, free champagne, me entering sans ID), even though we were clearly only VIPs because Mandi knows the manager
1. The "I'm OK, you're OK Dinner" with Mandi, remeniscing with only a slight amount of nostalgia about high school, with black truffle gnocchi and tiramisu, AND mom calling to tell me that Italy is indeed a go.
Now that I'm back at the beach, it's time to do all that stuff that i've got on my list of summer projects, even though the summer is quickly winding down. Fellowships, yardwork, kicking my butt back into shape, super quick review of Italian grammar, and all that good stuff. Got caught out in a thunderstorm again when I went running today-I love rain and lightning =).
Tuesday, July 08, 2003
Meteorology
Just how humid is it???
-it's so humid that when I get out of the shower, I don't bother drying off with a towel
-it's so humid the fish in the tank are swimming freely throughout the living room
-it's so humid that paper wilts immediately upon leaving an air-conditioned building
-it's so humid the weather people don't even bother telling you anymore; on the über-doppler map under humidity it says "what the fuck do you THINK it is? It's Virginia Beach in the summer."
right. Very productive day today, spent all of it until about 6 pm in my pajamas. I love those kinds of days. I got all my pictures from Spain sorted or in albums finally, and the enlargements look great. I'm rather proud of a few of them. Also realized the ambiguity of my effervescing about D. Eggers, novelist extraordinaire, whose book I am currently reading. I laughed aloud today, alone in the kitchen during breakfast:
"We are young and naked and on the beach! [preparing for photo shoot] It will be beautiful and poetic and it hurts like a motherfucker. Our penises flop up and down, and then we pick up speed, slap left to right, back and forth--who would have thought left to right? The pain! People should not do this. Penises were not meant for running. I think of a distended muffler scraping the pavement; I think of a bird shaking the life out of a worm--the agony is ridiculous...I can't imagine what it's like for the pierced-penis guy. It's definitely not helping to keep it in place. If he had some sort of hookup, like to his navel--"
HA. HA. Ha. That's my diversion for the day.
The road trip to NYC, New Haven, and Philly is still on for tomorrow morning, estimated time of departure, 7:00 am. Things packed: 0 (that's zero), people who know I'm actually coming: indefinite, possibly 2. Hoping for 4. Guess I should get cracking on that.
Just how humid is it???
-it's so humid that when I get out of the shower, I don't bother drying off with a towel
-it's so humid the fish in the tank are swimming freely throughout the living room
-it's so humid that paper wilts immediately upon leaving an air-conditioned building
-it's so humid the weather people don't even bother telling you anymore; on the über-doppler map under humidity it says "what the fuck do you THINK it is? It's Virginia Beach in the summer."
right. Very productive day today, spent all of it until about 6 pm in my pajamas. I love those kinds of days. I got all my pictures from Spain sorted or in albums finally, and the enlargements look great. I'm rather proud of a few of them. Also realized the ambiguity of my effervescing about D. Eggers, novelist extraordinaire, whose book I am currently reading. I laughed aloud today, alone in the kitchen during breakfast:
"We are young and naked and on the beach! [preparing for photo shoot] It will be beautiful and poetic and it hurts like a motherfucker. Our penises flop up and down, and then we pick up speed, slap left to right, back and forth--who would have thought left to right? The pain! People should not do this. Penises were not meant for running. I think of a distended muffler scraping the pavement; I think of a bird shaking the life out of a worm--the agony is ridiculous...I can't imagine what it's like for the pierced-penis guy. It's definitely not helping to keep it in place. If he had some sort of hookup, like to his navel--"
HA. HA. Ha. That's my diversion for the day.
The road trip to NYC, New Haven, and Philly is still on for tomorrow morning, estimated time of departure, 7:00 am. Things packed: 0 (that's zero), people who know I'm actually coming: indefinite, possibly 2. Hoping for 4. Guess I should get cracking on that.
Tuesday, hmm...
And I had such grand plans for getting up and running this morning. The morning haze was not auspicious for exercise, and I stayed up way too late last night reading. It had been so long since I'd had a book good enough to make me do that. Dave Eggers is my hero (yes, another one). He is very funny. He is very meta. He is even strangely attractive, if probably 30. Therefore, I am in love, metaphorically speaking. Anyway, I'm still trying to get my shit together for the road trip, and mom wants me to water the herbs. How delightfully prosaic.
And I had such grand plans for getting up and running this morning. The morning haze was not auspicious for exercise, and I stayed up way too late last night reading. It had been so long since I'd had a book good enough to make me do that. Dave Eggers is my hero (yes, another one). He is very funny. He is very meta. He is even strangely attractive, if probably 30. Therefore, I am in love, metaphorically speaking. Anyway, I'm still trying to get my shit together for the road trip, and mom wants me to water the herbs. How delightfully prosaic.
Monday, July 07, 2003
disorganized, as usual
Another week begins, and I feel like I haven't gotten much accomplished since I got home. I still don't know if I'm going to be able to go to Italy, because of silly email-tag with the studio and my Mom being weird. I've been trying to go to the Post Office for three days now to mail cookies, and it's been closed every time. One more try today, then fuck it; I'm going to eat them myself.
I spent a few hours in Barnes and Noble yesterday afternoon after I saw a movie at the Naro, the little independend theater in Ghent, doing research for both grad school and the Watson Fellowship. Both of these things scare the crap out of me. I don't think I'm ready for real decisions/rejection right now, give me a couple of weeks. I did thoroughly enjoy the frappuccino, however, so it's not all bad. Speaking of not all bad, neither was the movie: An American In Paris. Very pretty movie, and Gershwin did a few songs for it, but it had some f-ed up gender role issues; a little too 1951 for my taste. The assertive female character gets berated for going after the man she wants, and Gene Kelly smiles a little too much for my tastes. He must have been an alcoholic or an abusive spouse or something. Nobody is that tan, tapdances all the time, and is cheerful without having serious mental side effects.
Almost strangled my maternal parental unit last night during a family viewing of "Out of Africa." Note to self: do NOT watch movies with family at home. Incessant editorializing during key moments of film tend not to enhance the cinematic experience. Robert Redford was sooo hot.
On a slightly more upbeat note, my Dad has given me free rein with regards to repaintin the '96 Plymouth Voyager Minivan, so I'm off to the library this afternoon to do some design planning, and find the right colors of spray paint. We're all excited about this. I'm thinking flames, I'm thinking Gaudi, I'm thinking his security clearance at the Naval Base might be revoked =).
Another week begins, and I feel like I haven't gotten much accomplished since I got home. I still don't know if I'm going to be able to go to Italy, because of silly email-tag with the studio and my Mom being weird. I've been trying to go to the Post Office for three days now to mail cookies, and it's been closed every time. One more try today, then fuck it; I'm going to eat them myself.
I spent a few hours in Barnes and Noble yesterday afternoon after I saw a movie at the Naro, the little independend theater in Ghent, doing research for both grad school and the Watson Fellowship. Both of these things scare the crap out of me. I don't think I'm ready for real decisions/rejection right now, give me a couple of weeks. I did thoroughly enjoy the frappuccino, however, so it's not all bad. Speaking of not all bad, neither was the movie: An American In Paris. Very pretty movie, and Gershwin did a few songs for it, but it had some f-ed up gender role issues; a little too 1951 for my taste. The assertive female character gets berated for going after the man she wants, and Gene Kelly smiles a little too much for my tastes. He must have been an alcoholic or an abusive spouse or something. Nobody is that tan, tapdances all the time, and is cheerful without having serious mental side effects.
Almost strangled my maternal parental unit last night during a family viewing of "Out of Africa." Note to self: do NOT watch movies with family at home. Incessant editorializing during key moments of film tend not to enhance the cinematic experience. Robert Redford was sooo hot.
On a slightly more upbeat note, my Dad has given me free rein with regards to repaintin the '96 Plymouth Voyager Minivan, so I'm off to the library this afternoon to do some design planning, and find the right colors of spray paint. We're all excited about this. I'm thinking flames, I'm thinking Gaudi, I'm thinking his security clearance at the Naval Base might be revoked =).
Friday, July 04, 2003
Trading Spaces
List of things to buy today:
1. Eggs, bread, celery, potatoes
2. Chesapeake Bay Blue Crabs 1.5 dozen
3. flame retardant spray
4. lampshade
Flame retardant spray? I think that everyone should have that on their shopping list; I said it as a joke to my Dad, and he wrote it down. Within seconds, I realized that not only does it sound hilarious, that I actually needed some. Why? Explanation to follow.
Yes, it's a federal holiday today. What does that mean you may ask? Clearly, it means that my mother has decided to clean the house. I love it how it can go for weeks on end looking like hell, with every horizontal surface filled with stacks of old mail and papers, and then suddenly, because goverment offices are closed and and the mail doesn't come, everything needs to be weeded. The process occurs regardless of other family members' occupation, usually starting with some form of gardening/lawn mowing until she's good and tired (moody), then the sorting begins; this machine scurries around the house on tasks of the utmost importance, such as asking me in a flustered tone if my headphones should go in the hall or on the ever accumulating pile of "Thea's Shit" on the front table. Of course it follows that the fate of the free world depends upon my response; again, regardless of whatever project I might be working on, infinitely less important than the organizational opus going on in the other room. GRRRRRRRRRRRR.
And people wonder why I don't chat with Cathy that often. Economy of conversation is in full effect; my sister and I have learned the futility of responding to questions whose answer is readily apparent. ex.- Thea fills coffee maker with water, removes beans from freezer and inserts filter. Mom asks "Oh, are you making coffee?" No, this is nuclear physics; appearances can be deceiving.
Well, that was fun. What really led me to post today, however, was what I was doing WHILE Mom cleaned. I made a lamp today, in full-on 'Trading Spaces' mode.
When I came home from Spain, I saw sitting on the front porch ready to go to the trash an old "bronze" lamp from about 1970 that had been in our living room since time immemorial. Saddened that our family should lose such a treasure, and being without a light in my bedroom (mine had been appropriated for some other use in my 6 month absence), I decided that I should succor the sad thing and give it a facelift, like I'd seen done so many times on TLC. I'm almost finished now, after three days, several trips to the hardware store, and much inhalation of paint fumes. In the process, I proved once again that it is indeed as the maxim says: everything is easier on TV.
After cleaning, sanding, and priming the lamp, I went in search of the right paint, and a new bulb socket and harp. Paint I found, right off the bat, but Home Depot only had sockets, not cords, so I'd have to use the antique wiring that the lamp already had, something that didn't seem all that prudent for fire-safety. I went home anyway to finish painting, reassembling, and such. Went back out again with Pops today to pick up the last few supplies, and I couldn't help but think that this 'little' project had sucked up an inordinate amount of my time in the past few days. On the show, it all looks so easy, because they probably have their little interns and assorted peons to run around to 3 hardware stores to find the right parts, and somebody to shoo the ants away from newly sprayed metal parts so they don't end up permanently affixed to the new creation. Unfortunately I am just me, peon-less in my redecorating schemes, and everything takes a lot more time than I think it will.
Also, little snags like Mom walking into the kitchen and glaring at the fabric that I had planned to used for a lampshade, snapping "That doesn't seem like a very good idea. Is it flame retardant?" [hence need for flame retardant spray]. So I compromise. Since nobody seemed to have any f.r.s., fabric goes on the border of a pre-made lampshade, and my project just does a little swerve at roadblock number 7.
It will be finished eventually, and I'll have a very fun light fixture that matches both my college decor and the pillows for our living room, so I guess it's worth the trouble. Oh, the sacrifices I make for design. =) I also feel strangely powerful when I can make electrical things that function. It's fun to say "I re-wired a lamp."
On a completely unrelated note, saw Legally Blonde 2 with Mom and Sis. Very funny. Also got to go to my favorite restaurant in Norfolk last night, Luna Maya (also complete with retro-orange-Trading-Spaces-esque decor), and had killer enchiladas with chipotle. Makes me happy. I'm not very patriotic, especially in this day and age, so the 4th kind of loses a little of its splendor. Being back in a military town is sure a kick in the head; blind patriotism scares me. The fact remains that I still like crabs with Old Bay and fireworks, so it should be a good holiday. Whew, I'm outie.
List of things to buy today:
1. Eggs, bread, celery, potatoes
2. Chesapeake Bay Blue Crabs 1.5 dozen
3. flame retardant spray
4. lampshade
Flame retardant spray? I think that everyone should have that on their shopping list; I said it as a joke to my Dad, and he wrote it down. Within seconds, I realized that not only does it sound hilarious, that I actually needed some. Why? Explanation to follow.
Yes, it's a federal holiday today. What does that mean you may ask? Clearly, it means that my mother has decided to clean the house. I love it how it can go for weeks on end looking like hell, with every horizontal surface filled with stacks of old mail and papers, and then suddenly, because goverment offices are closed and and the mail doesn't come, everything needs to be weeded. The process occurs regardless of other family members' occupation, usually starting with some form of gardening/lawn mowing until she's good and tired (moody), then the sorting begins; this machine scurries around the house on tasks of the utmost importance, such as asking me in a flustered tone if my headphones should go in the hall or on the ever accumulating pile of "Thea's Shit" on the front table. Of course it follows that the fate of the free world depends upon my response; again, regardless of whatever project I might be working on, infinitely less important than the organizational opus going on in the other room. GRRRRRRRRRRRR.
And people wonder why I don't chat with Cathy that often. Economy of conversation is in full effect; my sister and I have learned the futility of responding to questions whose answer is readily apparent. ex.- Thea fills coffee maker with water, removes beans from freezer and inserts filter. Mom asks "Oh, are you making coffee?" No, this is nuclear physics; appearances can be deceiving.
Well, that was fun. What really led me to post today, however, was what I was doing WHILE Mom cleaned. I made a lamp today, in full-on 'Trading Spaces' mode.
When I came home from Spain, I saw sitting on the front porch ready to go to the trash an old "bronze" lamp from about 1970 that had been in our living room since time immemorial. Saddened that our family should lose such a treasure, and being without a light in my bedroom (mine had been appropriated for some other use in my 6 month absence), I decided that I should succor the sad thing and give it a facelift, like I'd seen done so many times on TLC. I'm almost finished now, after three days, several trips to the hardware store, and much inhalation of paint fumes. In the process, I proved once again that it is indeed as the maxim says: everything is easier on TV.
After cleaning, sanding, and priming the lamp, I went in search of the right paint, and a new bulb socket and harp. Paint I found, right off the bat, but Home Depot only had sockets, not cords, so I'd have to use the antique wiring that the lamp already had, something that didn't seem all that prudent for fire-safety. I went home anyway to finish painting, reassembling, and such. Went back out again with Pops today to pick up the last few supplies, and I couldn't help but think that this 'little' project had sucked up an inordinate amount of my time in the past few days. On the show, it all looks so easy, because they probably have their little interns and assorted peons to run around to 3 hardware stores to find the right parts, and somebody to shoo the ants away from newly sprayed metal parts so they don't end up permanently affixed to the new creation. Unfortunately I am just me, peon-less in my redecorating schemes, and everything takes a lot more time than I think it will.
Also, little snags like Mom walking into the kitchen and glaring at the fabric that I had planned to used for a lampshade, snapping "That doesn't seem like a very good idea. Is it flame retardant?" [hence need for flame retardant spray]. So I compromise. Since nobody seemed to have any f.r.s., fabric goes on the border of a pre-made lampshade, and my project just does a little swerve at roadblock number 7.
It will be finished eventually, and I'll have a very fun light fixture that matches both my college decor and the pillows for our living room, so I guess it's worth the trouble. Oh, the sacrifices I make for design. =) I also feel strangely powerful when I can make electrical things that function. It's fun to say "I re-wired a lamp."
On a completely unrelated note, saw Legally Blonde 2 with Mom and Sis. Very funny. Also got to go to my favorite restaurant in Norfolk last night, Luna Maya (also complete with retro-orange-Trading-Spaces-esque decor), and had killer enchiladas with chipotle. Makes me happy. I'm not very patriotic, especially in this day and age, so the 4th kind of loses a little of its splendor. Being back in a military town is sure a kick in the head; blind patriotism scares me. The fact remains that I still like crabs with Old Bay and fireworks, so it should be a good holiday. Whew, I'm outie.
Wednesday, July 02, 2003
Scrapbooking continues, in light of the bad weather, and scraps of paper (appropriately) are flying everywhere.
It is so good to be back in the kitchen again, to be able to burn my fingers on meltey cookies right out of the oven, and emerge from the room lightly dusted in flour.
I haven't seen a thunderstorm in a while, and we've been having no shortage of them in the past few days. Although they make my hair frizzy and screw with my schedule, there's something familiar and comforting about the crack of lightning through a summer sky, and that 25 minute downpour (never more than that) that moves capriciously across the tidewater area, leaving drenched spots and dry ones in its wake. Yay for rain.
It is so good to be back in the kitchen again, to be able to burn my fingers on meltey cookies right out of the oven, and emerge from the room lightly dusted in flour.
I haven't seen a thunderstorm in a while, and we've been having no shortage of them in the past few days. Although they make my hair frizzy and screw with my schedule, there's something familiar and comforting about the crack of lightning through a summer sky, and that 25 minute downpour (never more than that) that moves capriciously across the tidewater area, leaving drenched spots and dry ones in its wake. Yay for rain.
Tuesday, July 01, 2003
the humidity continues, to which i am SO not accustomed. thank god for air conditioning, and having a comfy bed to sleep in. is it bad that i'm 20 years old, and really really missed my stuffed animals while in Spain? other things that i'm glad to have back in my daily life
1. the Chesapeake Bay (riding back on the train i got to see the whole damn thing. warms the heart)
2. fresh fruit in the fridge; i love summer produce. mmmm, cherries.
3. AMC; classic cinema 24-7, and in ENGLISH
4. seeing old friends
5. being behind the wheel of a car again; very empowering =)
trying to keep up the semi-regular exercise routine, as i have grown several pants sizes since i left in january, but the not so nice weather has made it an effort. i'm 2 for 3 so far, hopefully that will improve.
my family and i are coexisting relatively peacefully so far, and i think most of it has to do with the fact that we don't see each other for more than a few hours at a time every day. i'll take what i can get. the Williamson gals did go for a walk on the boardwalk last night, which was fun. gotta love the female bonding, plus salty sea air to rejuvenate the spirits.
1. the Chesapeake Bay (riding back on the train i got to see the whole damn thing. warms the heart)
2. fresh fruit in the fridge; i love summer produce. mmmm, cherries.
3. AMC; classic cinema 24-7, and in ENGLISH
4. seeing old friends
5. being behind the wheel of a car again; very empowering =)
trying to keep up the semi-regular exercise routine, as i have grown several pants sizes since i left in january, but the not so nice weather has made it an effort. i'm 2 for 3 so far, hopefully that will improve.
my family and i are coexisting relatively peacefully so far, and i think most of it has to do with the fact that we don't see each other for more than a few hours at a time every day. i'll take what i can get. the Williamson gals did go for a walk on the boardwalk last night, which was fun. gotta love the female bonding, plus salty sea air to rejuvenate the spirits.
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