There are a few things, all part of an everyday routine, that signify summer to me like nothing else. One of them is the beach. The other is pesto
I'm not talking about going down to the sand and wiggling your toes in the water beach, I'm talking frantically scanning the nearby water for jellyfish, wondering what creatures might be lurking in the dark shadowy water, letting salty hair dry out on a beach towel kind of beach. Yesterday morning, after a productive stint of errand running, I pulled in to 72nd street only to realize that I'd forgotten a most crucial ingredient for said "beach experience:" a towel.
Never fear, though, because *I* have local connections! Dialed up Rachael's cell to find out that the eldest Wagner child was living the high life in the Hudson Valley, sightseeing and dining at the CIA (that's the Culinary Institute of America for the uninitiated). Alas, while I could not accompany her on such gastronomic adventures, she was able to assist me in my quest for a sandy chaise. Having been assured that there was no one present in the house to give me a bathing blanket, I got the low down that the garage wasn't locked, so I pulled up the door and sure enough gained admittance to 7106 Oceanfront. Chatting all the while, I proceed through the laundry room, past the pantry and up the small flight of stairs that opens on the main hallway. As I chuckle at RAW's exploits in the Hudson River Valley, I hear a voice shriek from the patio "Where'd you come from?!"
Uh oh. As it turns out, Theresa, the babysitter had been folding laundry and talking on her cell phone, thus hand not answered the house line. Perplexed, she hurriedly told her friend that she'd call back, while I attempt to explain to both Theresa (in person) and Rachael (on the phone) what's going on. A short chat between the two of them (I relinquished my phone) solved all problems, and I even got a beach towel out of the whole ordeal. I reatreated back out through the garage, closing doors behind me, and then retreated further, out to the beach. Good times, good water, good sun.
Then, in a fit of verdant innovation, I decided that the basil out back needed to be harvested. When the pine nuts and olive oil hit the food processor, I knew it was summer. There are very few things that are as quintessentially summertime than fresh pesto, due to the seasonal availability of the ingredients, and the lackluster qualities of imitation pesto. Firing up the grill for roasted zucchini clinched the deal, and I had to admit to myself that even though it wasn't Memorial Day yet, it was definitely summer.
It's strange how these ordinary weekday events inspire thoughts of vacation and relaxation more than the surf-wear shopping extravaganza of this weekend, and it's 100 degree + heat, but that's just the way it goes in my crazy little head. The *only* downside, and I do mean only, is that schools are beginning to end, and that means that my quests for teaching observations are becoming ever that much more difficult. Well, I'll do what I can do, and then there's not much more I can do, right?
In the meantime, now that I've ordered my new camera (after much deliberation, and impressing the pants off the BestBuy salesclerk with my digital camera knowledge), I'm going to tackle the other half of my summer shopping project, and look for my teacher wardrobe. Off to Lynnhaven mall. Now that I think about it, maybe I'll buy a beach towel while I'm at it.
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
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
Saturday, May 22, 2004
Commencement?
Well, I've been home for almost a week now, and it's weird. I've been dividing my time inefficiently (as usual) between
1. unpacking
2. blowing my nose, due to sickness c/o ex-roommate and boyfriend
3. running (yes, even in the heat...it's bathing suit season, eeps)
4. being freaked out about tfa work
5. reading
6. cooking, cleaning, calling, and organizing life in 3704 Kingsgrove Circle
7. being a scullery maid
8. catching up on thank-you's
9. getting sunburnt (duh)
That pretty much describes my week so far, lots of advil cold and sinus, lots of trips to various car repair places, and lots of early mornings (arrrgh). Other than that, it's been a struggle to obey my mantra, avoid the inevitable afternoon thunderstorms, develop pictures, and not drive myself crazy in the house with my parents.
I beat Leroy and Cathy home 'cause my glassblowing lesson got cancelled (sadness), drove across the Bay Bridge in a lavender twilight paying my $10 one way toll. The view from the elevated bridge on Fisherman's Island never ceases to impress me; there's just something about those 17 miles of highway on ocean that no matter what meteorological phenomenon might be present, it just looks cool. That particular night it was a hazy sunset with deep blue-grey water at high tide, chopping against the pillars. My overloaded mini seemed do feel that it was close to rest, because she kicked it into high gear and got me home in decent time. It's too bad that "cheap" gas is $1.90, or I would *really* love that car.
Monday night, in a flurry of activity, I went out on the town with Mark. It felt good to catch up after almost a year, and I'm sure I served to stave off his boredom. What can I say, I'm good for a purpose. A girly martini at Empire made me nice and relaxed after the long drive home, and it felt good to talk about life with a non-Haverfordian for a change (no offense intended, by any means, to all of my nice Haverfordians). Mark's graduation from Duke filled the entire football stadium; they read every single person's name at my graduation. Mark shook hands with Madeline Albright; Dave ran into Paul Krugman on the nature trail at 7:30 Sunday morning before the ceremony. I sometimes forget that not everyone has the same sort of collegiate experiences as I have.
Yet in more ways than one, Mark and I shared some views on the closing of our college days. I alwasy forget that they call it Commencement, never Graduation. Cape Henry called it Commencement, and we agreed that it did feel like one. (Nearly) everyone had a place to go after the ceremony, an exciting new social and academic scene to enter into, and a definite course in life. This time, although I have definite plans and a structured short-term future, I had to agree that it felt more like an ending than a beginning. There are people who I won't see for a long time, most of them I'll never see again, and I worry this time about my desire/discipline to keep in touch with my peripheral acquaintances.
Never had that problem in high school, 'cause I didn't have ANY casual friends. My friends were emotionally bonded to me with tears and memories, cat hairs, and sandy beaches, not to mention siblings and family. Many of the people I know at Haverford aren't bonded to me by much at all, other than a few laughs or some common interests, yet I still care about them. I'll miss the Spanish majors, and the department with its craziness; running into EB on campus and being able to catch up, when we get too busy with our own lives and forget to talk; even saying hi to my customs group every once in a while (dysfunctional as we were); tagging along with klu's ecclectic bunch of SciLi addicts, and seeing Dave's crazy friends. I'll even miss a few CompLitters, and a soccer girl or two.
That said, in my case there is a commencement, a beginning on the horizon, and it's all too close. I have hours of reading to do, scary public schools to visit =), and an intense summer training period that I have to prepare for mentally, financially, and fashionably. That seems to be weighing most heavily on my mind at the moment, not the time apart from the boy, not my meager savings, not my health, not my friends. I miss my friends, I should call them.
I don't really know what else there is to say, other than it's getting hot, and likely to get hotter soon. I wish I had more time.
1. unpacking
2. blowing my nose, due to sickness c/o ex-roommate and boyfriend
3. running (yes, even in the heat...it's bathing suit season, eeps)
4. being freaked out about tfa work
5. reading
6. cooking, cleaning, calling, and organizing life in 3704 Kingsgrove Circle
7. being a scullery maid
8. catching up on thank-you's
9. getting sunburnt (duh)
That pretty much describes my week so far, lots of advil cold and sinus, lots of trips to various car repair places, and lots of early mornings (arrrgh). Other than that, it's been a struggle to obey my mantra, avoid the inevitable afternoon thunderstorms, develop pictures, and not drive myself crazy in the house with my parents.
I beat Leroy and Cathy home 'cause my glassblowing lesson got cancelled (sadness), drove across the Bay Bridge in a lavender twilight paying my $10 one way toll. The view from the elevated bridge on Fisherman's Island never ceases to impress me; there's just something about those 17 miles of highway on ocean that no matter what meteorological phenomenon might be present, it just looks cool. That particular night it was a hazy sunset with deep blue-grey water at high tide, chopping against the pillars. My overloaded mini seemed do feel that it was close to rest, because she kicked it into high gear and got me home in decent time. It's too bad that "cheap" gas is $1.90, or I would *really* love that car.
Monday night, in a flurry of activity, I went out on the town with Mark. It felt good to catch up after almost a year, and I'm sure I served to stave off his boredom. What can I say, I'm good for a purpose. A girly martini at Empire made me nice and relaxed after the long drive home, and it felt good to talk about life with a non-Haverfordian for a change (no offense intended, by any means, to all of my nice Haverfordians). Mark's graduation from Duke filled the entire football stadium; they read every single person's name at my graduation. Mark shook hands with Madeline Albright; Dave ran into Paul Krugman on the nature trail at 7:30 Sunday morning before the ceremony. I sometimes forget that not everyone has the same sort of collegiate experiences as I have.
Yet in more ways than one, Mark and I shared some views on the closing of our college days. I alwasy forget that they call it Commencement, never Graduation. Cape Henry called it Commencement, and we agreed that it did feel like one. (Nearly) everyone had a place to go after the ceremony, an exciting new social and academic scene to enter into, and a definite course in life. This time, although I have definite plans and a structured short-term future, I had to agree that it felt more like an ending than a beginning. There are people who I won't see for a long time, most of them I'll never see again, and I worry this time about my desire/discipline to keep in touch with my peripheral acquaintances.
Never had that problem in high school, 'cause I didn't have ANY casual friends. My friends were emotionally bonded to me with tears and memories, cat hairs, and sandy beaches, not to mention siblings and family. Many of the people I know at Haverford aren't bonded to me by much at all, other than a few laughs or some common interests, yet I still care about them. I'll miss the Spanish majors, and the department with its craziness; running into EB on campus and being able to catch up, when we get too busy with our own lives and forget to talk; even saying hi to my customs group every once in a while (dysfunctional as we were); tagging along with klu's ecclectic bunch of SciLi addicts, and seeing Dave's crazy friends. I'll even miss a few CompLitters, and a soccer girl or two.
That said, in my case there is a commencement, a beginning on the horizon, and it's all too close. I have hours of reading to do, scary public schools to visit =), and an intense summer training period that I have to prepare for mentally, financially, and fashionably. That seems to be weighing most heavily on my mind at the moment, not the time apart from the boy, not my meager savings, not my health, not my friends. I miss my friends, I should call them.
I don't really know what else there is to say, other than it's getting hot, and likely to get hotter soon. I wish I had more time.
Sunday, May 09, 2004
That's all she wrote
I finished the 6th paper about Borges I've written in the past 2 years, banged out my last film paper and threw it in the box at the English house at Bryn Mawr with a flourish. It crashed into the sides as it soared through the air on the second floor, clanging into the cardboard with a sufficiently aggressive sound to terminate my college career.
Went to TLA like a space-cadet to return my overdue movie, and found out that I owe them $25 in late fees for 5 fucking days. That's ridiculous, and I'm going to try and negotiate down to something more reasonable...if possible. Then rushed home to change and meet the rest of the class of 2004 at Founders' Hall to ring the bell in the tower. Whacking the thing with a mallet was rather appropriate, but the whole experience was a little surreal.
I saw students whom I'd never seen before in my life, and I'm sure I was "that girl" for a bunch of people as well. It was awkard, uncomfortably hot, and crowded in the tower, rather a propos for the Haverfordian experience. At the alumni banquet afterwards, I remembered why I don't like large group gatherings, and scrammed with Kaitlyn at the first excuse to leave. Seeing all of those people who I "know" or "knew" freshman year, and masses of people who are outside of my social periphery just kind of weirded me out. I had no desire to be social, to meet new people, or be bubbly. Just sat around with Klu and some of her friends, waved hi some of the crew from Leeds, and then ran like a scared rabbit. Hopefully this is not an indicator of how the rest of Senior Week is going to go. Optimism, Thea, optimism.
And for the time being, that's what I'm going for. I've got loads of shit to do before Miami, and more "homework" from TFA than I care to think about right now, but I'll deal with that later. Tomorrow, Tuesday, and whatnot. In the meantime, I'm starting to get really excited about the move, especially now that my connections at Hot Soup are trying to help me find a place to blow glass down south. That will be *key* for my future happiness =).
I also went to my last first Friday, rather accidentally. I was working at the Soup, set up the gallery and chatted with my teacher for a while, then Dave came and met me for dinner. Walking around Old City on a Friday is so much fun, especially now that it stays light until about 8:30. Out in the city with my boy, looking spiffy and eating wonderful Italian food at Gnocchi made me so happy. Coffee and tiramisu iced the proverbial cake of our evening, and put me in such a good mood that I found it hard to work when we got back to Haverford.
I'm back at the studio clocking in intern hours so that I don't break the bank on my last class here, but the thing that makes me really happy is that I know that I want to keep glass in my life, however I can. Usually I bore myself with my mediocrity in most artistic pursuits, but glass is kind of different. I'm not fantastically good yet, but there are so many technical things to learn, skills to practice, and ideas that I have, I can't wait to try them out. Like so many things, the more I learn about glass, the more accutely I realize what I dont' know/know how to do. With such an obscure, multi-disciplined medium the ignorance learning curve is pretty intense, but almost all of the people I've met by blowing class temper out the humility of constantly learning you're wrong. Glass attracts a certain eccentric personality, and I think that's cool. I often fancy myself a little eccentric sometimes, so it all makes sense.
What doesn't make sense to me at the moment is how different my life is going to be in the next year. So many things are changing that it's a little daunting, but I figure I can give myself at least until Graduation before I freak out about stuff. I deserve a bit of a break, dammit, and I'm going to take one =)
Went to TLA like a space-cadet to return my overdue movie, and found out that I owe them $25 in late fees for 5 fucking days. That's ridiculous, and I'm going to try and negotiate down to something more reasonable...if possible. Then rushed home to change and meet the rest of the class of 2004 at Founders' Hall to ring the bell in the tower. Whacking the thing with a mallet was rather appropriate, but the whole experience was a little surreal.
I saw students whom I'd never seen before in my life, and I'm sure I was "that girl" for a bunch of people as well. It was awkard, uncomfortably hot, and crowded in the tower, rather a propos for the Haverfordian experience. At the alumni banquet afterwards, I remembered why I don't like large group gatherings, and scrammed with Kaitlyn at the first excuse to leave. Seeing all of those people who I "know" or "knew" freshman year, and masses of people who are outside of my social periphery just kind of weirded me out. I had no desire to be social, to meet new people, or be bubbly. Just sat around with Klu and some of her friends, waved hi some of the crew from Leeds, and then ran like a scared rabbit. Hopefully this is not an indicator of how the rest of Senior Week is going to go. Optimism, Thea, optimism.
And for the time being, that's what I'm going for. I've got loads of shit to do before Miami, and more "homework" from TFA than I care to think about right now, but I'll deal with that later. Tomorrow, Tuesday, and whatnot. In the meantime, I'm starting to get really excited about the move, especially now that my connections at Hot Soup are trying to help me find a place to blow glass down south. That will be *key* for my future happiness =).
I also went to my last first Friday, rather accidentally. I was working at the Soup, set up the gallery and chatted with my teacher for a while, then Dave came and met me for dinner. Walking around Old City on a Friday is so much fun, especially now that it stays light until about 8:30. Out in the city with my boy, looking spiffy and eating wonderful Italian food at Gnocchi made me so happy. Coffee and tiramisu iced the proverbial cake of our evening, and put me in such a good mood that I found it hard to work when we got back to Haverford.
I'm back at the studio clocking in intern hours so that I don't break the bank on my last class here, but the thing that makes me really happy is that I know that I want to keep glass in my life, however I can. Usually I bore myself with my mediocrity in most artistic pursuits, but glass is kind of different. I'm not fantastically good yet, but there are so many technical things to learn, skills to practice, and ideas that I have, I can't wait to try them out. Like so many things, the more I learn about glass, the more accutely I realize what I dont' know/know how to do. With such an obscure, multi-disciplined medium the ignorance learning curve is pretty intense, but almost all of the people I've met by blowing class temper out the humility of constantly learning you're wrong. Glass attracts a certain eccentric personality, and I think that's cool. I often fancy myself a little eccentric sometimes, so it all makes sense.
What doesn't make sense to me at the moment is how different my life is going to be in the next year. So many things are changing that it's a little daunting, but I figure I can give myself at least until Graduation before I freak out about stuff. I deserve a bit of a break, dammit, and I'm going to take one =)
Thursday, May 06, 2004
Why I dislike ornithology
As D. and I strolled past the duck pond this afternoon by the paired mallards, it ocurred to me why I disliked birding so much as a small child. I explained that the green shiny male mallard was chattering at the canada goose to "leave off his wife" as the goose 'goosed' (literally! he bit her ass) the female mallard. All the male birds get the pretty colors, the irridescent feathers, and the flashy style. I wanted the girl birds to be pretty, and they weren't. The female of the species was always fat, brown, and dowdy looking, the antithesis of everything that I wanted in a bird. Consequently, we went on bird watching trips looking for all the male birds, which left me rather uninterested in the entire process.
A friend recently observed that "for you, it's all about aesthetics" and yes, I think that's a very astute observation. It pervades most of my thinking, this concept of "style." And not speaking as a preference for the strictly "beautiful" either, but something that pleases my own twisted, quixotic, aesthetic preferences. Sometimes my distraction over appearances (font styles, clothing, food) gets me into trouble when I'd rather do other things than work, but I figure that's just one of the pitfalls inherent in said obsession.
That said, I still managed to absorb a ridiculous amount of bird trivia over the first 13 or so years of existence, so I suppose it wasn't all for naught. My parents would be proud. =)
A friend recently observed that "for you, it's all about aesthetics" and yes, I think that's a very astute observation. It pervades most of my thinking, this concept of "style." And not speaking as a preference for the strictly "beautiful" either, but something that pleases my own twisted, quixotic, aesthetic preferences. Sometimes my distraction over appearances (font styles, clothing, food) gets me into trouble when I'd rather do other things than work, but I figure that's just one of the pitfalls inherent in said obsession.
That said, I still managed to absorb a ridiculous amount of bird trivia over the first 13 or so years of existence, so I suppose it wasn't all for naught. My parents would be proud. =)
Wednesday, May 05, 2004
the procrastination continues...
i've really got to stop this soon, but i couldn't resist:
stolen from Klu, who stole it in turn from Alex Kelly
college board's 101 greatest works of literature
bold= stuff i've read
Achebe, Chinua - Things Fall Apart
Agee, James - A Death in the Family
Austen, Jane - Pride and Prejudice [sigh, Darcy]
Baldwin, James - Go Tell It on the Mountain
Beckett, Samuel - Waiting for Godot
Bellow, Saul - The Adventures of Augie March
Bronte, Charlotte - Jane Eyre
Bronte, Emily - Wuthering Heights
Camus, Albert - The Stranger [changed my bitter little heart]
Cather, Willa - Death Comes for the Archbishop
Chaucer, Geoffrey - The Canterbury Tales
Chekhov, Anton - The Cherry Orchard
Chopin, Kate - The Awakening
Conrad, Joseph - Heart of Darkness
Cooper, James Fenimore - The Last of the Mohicans
Crane, Stephen - The Red Badge of Courage
Dante - Inferno
de Cervantes, Miguel - Don Quixote [required reading for the human race.]
Defoe, Daniel - Robinson Crusoe
Dickens, Charles - A Tale of Two Cities [no, really, the best of times and the worst of times]
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor - Crime and Punishment
Douglass, Frederick - Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass
Dreiser, Theodore - An American Tragedy
Dumas, Alexandre - The Three Musketeers
Eliot, George - The Mill on the Floss
Ellison, Ralph - Invisible Man
Emerson, Ralph Waldo - Selected Essays [yeah "Self Reliance!"]
Faulkner, William - As I Lay Dying
Faulkner, William - The Sound and the Fury
Fielding, Henry - Tom Jones
Fitzgerald, F. Scott - The Great Gatsby
Flaubert, Gustave - Madame Bovary
Ford, Ford Madox - The Good Soldier
Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von - Faust
Golding, William - Lord of the Flies
Hardy, Thomas - Tess of the d'Urbervilles
Hawthorne, Nathaniel - The Scarlet Letter
Heller, Joseph - Catch 22
Hemingway, Ernest - A Farewell to Arms
Homer - The Iliad
Homer - The Odyssey
Hugo, Victor - The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Hurston, Zora Neale - Their Eyes Were Watching God
Huxley, Aldous - Brave New World
Ibsen, Henrik - A Doll's House
James, Henry - The Portrait of a Lady [okay, so I haven't finished yet...]
James, Henry - The Turn of the Screw
Joyce, James - A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
Kafka, Franz - The Metamorphosis
Kingston, Maxine Hong - The Woman Warrior
Lee, Harper - To Kill a Mockingbird
Lewis, Sinclair - Babbitt
London, Jack - The Call of the Wild
Mann, Thomas - The Magic Mountain
Marquez, Gabriel Garcia - One Hundred Years of Solitude
Melville, Herman - Bartleby the Scrivener
Melville, Herman - Moby Dick
Miller, Arthur - The Crucible
Morrison, Toni - Beloved
O'Connor, Flannery - A Good Man is Hard to Find
O'Neill, Eugene - Long Day's Journey into Night
Orwell, George - Animal Farm
Pasternak, Boris - Doctor Zhivago [does the movie count?]
Plath, Sylvia - The Bell Jar
Poe, Edgar Allan - Selected Tales [Gold Bug = best story e-ver]
Proust, Marcel - Swann's Way
Pynchon, Thomas - The Crying of Lot 49
Remarque, Erich Maria - All Quiet on the Western Front
Rostand, Edmond - Cyrano de Bergerac
Roth, Henry - Call It Sleep
Salinger, J.D. - The Catcher in the Rye
Shakespeare, William - Hamlet
Shakespeare, William - Macbeth
Shakespeare, William - A Midsummer Night's Dream
Shakespeare, William - Romeo and Juliet
Shaw, George Bernard - Pygmalion
Shelley, Mary - Frankenstein
Silko, Leslie Marmon - Ceremony
Solzhenitsyn, Alexander - One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich
Sophocles - Antigone
Sophocles - Oedipus Rex [does Freud count?]
Steinbeck, John - The Grapes of Wrath [oh, summer reading]
Stevenson, Robert Louis - Treasure Island
Stowe, Harriet Beecher - Uncle Tom's Cabin [oh, summer reading]
Swift, Jonathan - Gulliver's Travels
Thackeray, William - Vanity Fair
Thoreau, Henry David - Walden
Tolstoy, Leo - War and Peace [again, does the movie count?]
Turgenev, Ivan - Fathers and Sons
Twain, Mark - The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
Voltaire - Candide
Vonnegut, Kurt Jr. - Slaughterhouse-Five
Walker, Alice - The Color Purple
Wharton, Edith - The House of Mirth
Welty, Eudora - Collected Stories
Whitman, Walt - Leaves of Grass [parts]
Wilde, Oscar - The Picture of Dorian Gray
Williams, Tennessee - The Glass Menagerie
Woolf, Virginia - To the Lighthouse
Wright, Richard - Native Son
43%, that's not fucking bad.
stolen from Klu, who stole it in turn from Alex Kelly
college board's 101 greatest works of literature
bold= stuff i've read
Achebe, Chinua - Things Fall Apart
Agee, James - A Death in the Family
Austen, Jane - Pride and Prejudice [sigh, Darcy]
Baldwin, James - Go Tell It on the Mountain
Beckett, Samuel - Waiting for Godot
Bellow, Saul - The Adventures of Augie March
Bronte, Charlotte - Jane Eyre
Bronte, Emily - Wuthering Heights
Camus, Albert - The Stranger [changed my bitter little heart]
Cather, Willa - Death Comes for the Archbishop
Chaucer, Geoffrey - The Canterbury Tales
Chekhov, Anton - The Cherry Orchard
Chopin, Kate - The Awakening
Conrad, Joseph - Heart of Darkness
Cooper, James Fenimore - The Last of the Mohicans
Crane, Stephen - The Red Badge of Courage
Dante - Inferno
de Cervantes, Miguel - Don Quixote [required reading for the human race.]
Defoe, Daniel - Robinson Crusoe
Dickens, Charles - A Tale of Two Cities [no, really, the best of times and the worst of times]
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor - Crime and Punishment
Douglass, Frederick - Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass
Dreiser, Theodore - An American Tragedy
Dumas, Alexandre - The Three Musketeers
Eliot, George - The Mill on the Floss
Ellison, Ralph - Invisible Man
Emerson, Ralph Waldo - Selected Essays [yeah "Self Reliance!"]
Faulkner, William - As I Lay Dying
Faulkner, William - The Sound and the Fury
Fielding, Henry - Tom Jones
Fitzgerald, F. Scott - The Great Gatsby
Flaubert, Gustave - Madame Bovary
Ford, Ford Madox - The Good Soldier
Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von - Faust
Golding, William - Lord of the Flies
Hardy, Thomas - Tess of the d'Urbervilles
Hawthorne, Nathaniel - The Scarlet Letter
Heller, Joseph - Catch 22
Hemingway, Ernest - A Farewell to Arms
Homer - The Iliad
Homer - The Odyssey
Hugo, Victor - The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Hurston, Zora Neale - Their Eyes Were Watching God
Huxley, Aldous - Brave New World
Ibsen, Henrik - A Doll's House
James, Henry - The Portrait of a Lady [okay, so I haven't finished yet...]
James, Henry - The Turn of the Screw
Joyce, James - A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
Kafka, Franz - The Metamorphosis
Kingston, Maxine Hong - The Woman Warrior
Lee, Harper - To Kill a Mockingbird
Lewis, Sinclair - Babbitt
London, Jack - The Call of the Wild
Mann, Thomas - The Magic Mountain
Marquez, Gabriel Garcia - One Hundred Years of Solitude
Melville, Herman - Bartleby the Scrivener
Melville, Herman - Moby Dick
Miller, Arthur - The Crucible
Morrison, Toni - Beloved
O'Connor, Flannery - A Good Man is Hard to Find
O'Neill, Eugene - Long Day's Journey into Night
Orwell, George - Animal Farm
Pasternak, Boris - Doctor Zhivago [does the movie count?]
Plath, Sylvia - The Bell Jar
Poe, Edgar Allan - Selected Tales [Gold Bug = best story e-ver]
Proust, Marcel - Swann's Way
Pynchon, Thomas - The Crying of Lot 49
Remarque, Erich Maria - All Quiet on the Western Front
Rostand, Edmond - Cyrano de Bergerac
Roth, Henry - Call It Sleep
Salinger, J.D. - The Catcher in the Rye
Shakespeare, William - Hamlet
Shakespeare, William - Macbeth
Shakespeare, William - A Midsummer Night's Dream
Shakespeare, William - Romeo and Juliet
Shaw, George Bernard - Pygmalion
Shelley, Mary - Frankenstein
Silko, Leslie Marmon - Ceremony
Solzhenitsyn, Alexander - One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich
Sophocles - Antigone
Sophocles - Oedipus Rex [does Freud count?]
Steinbeck, John - The Grapes of Wrath [oh, summer reading]
Stevenson, Robert Louis - Treasure Island
Stowe, Harriet Beecher - Uncle Tom's Cabin [oh, summer reading]
Swift, Jonathan - Gulliver's Travels
Thackeray, William - Vanity Fair
Thoreau, Henry David - Walden
Tolstoy, Leo - War and Peace [again, does the movie count?]
Turgenev, Ivan - Fathers and Sons
Twain, Mark - The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
Voltaire - Candide
Vonnegut, Kurt Jr. - Slaughterhouse-Five
Walker, Alice - The Color Purple
Wharton, Edith - The House of Mirth
Welty, Eudora - Collected Stories
Whitman, Walt - Leaves of Grass [parts]
Wilde, Oscar - The Picture of Dorian Gray
Williams, Tennessee - The Glass Menagerie
Woolf, Virginia - To the Lighthouse
Wright, Richard - Native Son
43%, that's not fucking bad.
Concentration Factor = Negative
This is ridiculous. Just finished my CompLit Oral exam, ridiculously nervous about the questions Roberto, Ulrich, and Sedley were going to ask me, I almost answered Ulrich in Spanish again after talking to Roberto. Again, ridiculous, was my immediate regression to Baskin Robbins to reward my *stellar* (read: sufficient) performance.
It is now 3:30, and I have a little more than an hour before I have to leave for Hot Soup. My goal was 4 more pages this afternoon, I'm at 1.5. Ridiculous. Keep reading emails, checking the Go boards, and finding more music to suit my confused mood. "Out of Habit" I return to the solid, stable, Ani. After all these years, I still love that woman. Even if she did "sell out" and marry her manager; don't be so critical, people.
Sometimes I need to get over myself for wanting to be extraordinary, for people to bow down before my awe-imspiring Thea-ness.
Like the fear that you're standing here
'Cause you want to be liked.
Yes, you know you need your instrument,
But does your instrument need to be miked?
And you keep imagining that pretty soon
You will just disappear,
And figured out one thing is what saves you
from your fear of being here,
Here for now...
You're here for now,
Here for now.
I bet you're looking for the little red x
Next to the red arrow and the words "you are here"
...and I keep imagining that pretty soon I'll just disappear,
But I'm here for now,
I'm here for now,
I'm just here for now.
Yay Ani. I tried on the dresses in my closet last night to see if there was anything appropriate for Graduation, and no such luck. A few things didn't fit the same as they did 5 years ago, 2 years ago, or whenever, but they fit. It brought back some strange memories: my sister's graduation party in SoHo with all Viking appliances, a foreboding Screw sophomore year, and riding home on the subway after a VIP treatment at "Go!" I felt surreal wearing that stuff in my dimly lit hallway, felt the need for something new, something without the old connotations of memory for this year's graduation. Something pretty that is waiting to be filled with new memories.
So instead of finishing my English paper, I listen to more old Ani, more new Chilean pop, and fantasize about dresses. Much more productive, yes? NO.
It is now 3:30, and I have a little more than an hour before I have to leave for Hot Soup. My goal was 4 more pages this afternoon, I'm at 1.5. Ridiculous. Keep reading emails, checking the Go boards, and finding more music to suit my confused mood. "Out of Habit" I return to the solid, stable, Ani. After all these years, I still love that woman. Even if she did "sell out" and marry her manager; don't be so critical, people.
Sometimes I need to get over myself for wanting to be extraordinary, for people to bow down before my awe-imspiring Thea-ness.
Like the fear that you're standing here
'Cause you want to be liked.
Yes, you know you need your instrument,
But does your instrument need to be miked?
And you keep imagining that pretty soon
You will just disappear,
And figured out one thing is what saves you
from your fear of being here,
Here for now...
You're here for now,
Here for now.
I bet you're looking for the little red x
Next to the red arrow and the words "you are here"
...and I keep imagining that pretty soon I'll just disappear,
But I'm here for now,
I'm here for now,
I'm just here for now.
Yay Ani. I tried on the dresses in my closet last night to see if there was anything appropriate for Graduation, and no such luck. A few things didn't fit the same as they did 5 years ago, 2 years ago, or whenever, but they fit. It brought back some strange memories: my sister's graduation party in SoHo with all Viking appliances, a foreboding Screw sophomore year, and riding home on the subway after a VIP treatment at "Go!" I felt surreal wearing that stuff in my dimly lit hallway, felt the need for something new, something without the old connotations of memory for this year's graduation. Something pretty that is waiting to be filled with new memories.
So instead of finishing my English paper, I listen to more old Ani, more new Chilean pop, and fantasize about dresses. Much more productive, yes? NO.
Tuesday, May 04, 2004
Most Depressing Activity EVER
Yesterday, on the first day of exams, I decided to reward myself for being moderately productive on my English paper and go shopping. I had in my possession a check for Cape Henry blood-money, a check which I intended to cash immediately and with not a little spite at the way I'd been treated after the interview. I talked to RAW for the first time in months, and she told me the scoop that the fucking Headmaster had called her mom the day before my trip to ask "So, what can we do to get Thea?" This, from the people who didn't even offer me a job? I was assured that I had indeed been abused, making me all that much more enthusiastic about sticking it to my high school's administration by spending their money.
All I wanted to do on this rainy, quiet Monday was buy a pair of jeans, maybe some earrings, or a cute spring skirt. I should have known better than to expect a productive shopping experience at King of Prussia Mall, for several reasons.
1. I neglected to put on makeup
2. Was not wearing 2+ inch heels
3. Had not (respecting the deleterious effect that the rain would have on my unruly locks) straightened my hair
4. Did not coordinate my purse and pants
5. Wore my old REI fleece instead of cute jean/northface jacket which I do not own.
All I needed to do was replace my ripped Abercrombie jeans (btw, the best jeans EVER) which my fat self ripped while playing volleyball, completely sober, on Founders' Green during Haverfest. Okay, so it's hard to have a fat *knee*, but you get the point. You know things are bad when I get irrationally angry at full-length mirrors and specific garments. The salespeople ignored me in Abercrombie, leaving me to wander around the store in pants that were falling off of my ass because they were too big, in search of my size. No luck.
Fine, no practical clothing? Off to Arden B for complete frivolity; too expensive, too cute, too trendy. Found a perfect skirt, but again, while waiting 10 MINUTES for the retail assistant to come back with another size, I realized that she'd forgotten that I existed. I walked out of the store completely unnoticed. Same deal in Rampage, Bebe, Jessica McClintock looking for graduation dresses. I couldn't even bring myself to go IN to BCBG, Kenneth Cole, or J Crew for fear of more humilating degredation. Thus, with a ridiculous over $200 in cash burning a hole through its bank envelope, I spent 3.60 on a latte at Starbucks and fled the scene of consumeristic impotence.
All the mirrors seemed to accentuate my whiteness, my lack of togetherness, and my lack of expensive car/accessories/outerwear. All the salesgirls looked down at me, as did half the other shoppers, and I didn't even look THAT BAD! People wonder why teenagers' self-images get distorted, why you feel like shit between 13 and 20. I'll fucking tell you why: places and people like those which fester in suburban upper-income-bracket Pennsylvania. Ick.
In an attempt to salvage an otherwise miserable and flat out depressing day, I swung by Suburban Square to try on the dress that I'd been eyeing at Gap, which fit horribly and thus saved me another buying decision. Done, finished, I surrender. Concede defeat to the shitty spring fashions tailored for those abnormal females with no hips or quads. What ended up redeeming the day, irony of ironies, was my salsa rosa pasta dinner (divine, if I must say myself), the leftovers of which I guiltily ate for lunch, dwelling on the cream-content in high school-esque paranoia. Enough, enough, I say!
I will go for long runs in the afternoon sun, eat strawberries and whipped cream with abandon, and say "fuck it" to Abercrombie, Arden B. and Banana Republic. I will not eat to alleviate the stress of my nonexistent summer plans, nor the disapproving comments of my mother regarding my desire to purchase a cat, or spend a week with my boyfriend. "You want to stay in the same APARTMENT with him for a WEEK?!" Jesus christ, woman, what do you *think* does on at school? I will not let my fear of bikini weather paralyze/mutate my love of good food, and I sure as hell won't go to King of Prussia again without putting myself together beforehand.
10 pages of papers left to write, one oral exam, and 4 days! Woo hoo, freedom, you're soooo close.
All I wanted to do on this rainy, quiet Monday was buy a pair of jeans, maybe some earrings, or a cute spring skirt. I should have known better than to expect a productive shopping experience at King of Prussia Mall, for several reasons.
1. I neglected to put on makeup
2. Was not wearing 2+ inch heels
3. Had not (respecting the deleterious effect that the rain would have on my unruly locks) straightened my hair
4. Did not coordinate my purse and pants
5. Wore my old REI fleece instead of cute jean/northface jacket which I do not own.
All I needed to do was replace my ripped Abercrombie jeans (btw, the best jeans EVER) which my fat self ripped while playing volleyball, completely sober, on Founders' Green during Haverfest. Okay, so it's hard to have a fat *knee*, but you get the point. You know things are bad when I get irrationally angry at full-length mirrors and specific garments. The salespeople ignored me in Abercrombie, leaving me to wander around the store in pants that were falling off of my ass because they were too big, in search of my size. No luck.
Fine, no practical clothing? Off to Arden B for complete frivolity; too expensive, too cute, too trendy. Found a perfect skirt, but again, while waiting 10 MINUTES for the retail assistant to come back with another size, I realized that she'd forgotten that I existed. I walked out of the store completely unnoticed. Same deal in Rampage, Bebe, Jessica McClintock looking for graduation dresses. I couldn't even bring myself to go IN to BCBG, Kenneth Cole, or J Crew for fear of more humilating degredation. Thus, with a ridiculous over $200 in cash burning a hole through its bank envelope, I spent 3.60 on a latte at Starbucks and fled the scene of consumeristic impotence.
All the mirrors seemed to accentuate my whiteness, my lack of togetherness, and my lack of expensive car/accessories/outerwear. All the salesgirls looked down at me, as did half the other shoppers, and I didn't even look THAT BAD! People wonder why teenagers' self-images get distorted, why you feel like shit between 13 and 20. I'll fucking tell you why: places and people like those which fester in suburban upper-income-bracket Pennsylvania. Ick.
In an attempt to salvage an otherwise miserable and flat out depressing day, I swung by Suburban Square to try on the dress that I'd been eyeing at Gap, which fit horribly and thus saved me another buying decision. Done, finished, I surrender. Concede defeat to the shitty spring fashions tailored for those abnormal females with no hips or quads. What ended up redeeming the day, irony of ironies, was my salsa rosa pasta dinner (divine, if I must say myself), the leftovers of which I guiltily ate for lunch, dwelling on the cream-content in high school-esque paranoia. Enough, enough, I say!
I will go for long runs in the afternoon sun, eat strawberries and whipped cream with abandon, and say "fuck it" to Abercrombie, Arden B. and Banana Republic. I will not eat to alleviate the stress of my nonexistent summer plans, nor the disapproving comments of my mother regarding my desire to purchase a cat, or spend a week with my boyfriend. "You want to stay in the same APARTMENT with him for a WEEK?!" Jesus christ, woman, what do you *think* does on at school? I will not let my fear of bikini weather paralyze/mutate my love of good food, and I sure as hell won't go to King of Prussia again without putting myself together beforehand.
10 pages of papers left to write, one oral exam, and 4 days! Woo hoo, freedom, you're soooo close.
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