Well, I got cut. Cut outright from Fiddler. Not a place in the chorus, even. That's unexpected. But I don't feel so bad. I actually feel kind of lucky.
From the beginning we were told that the roles would go to the students first and the community after, and that a lot of people were needed for the chorus. When the actual casting happened, though, that wasn't the case--about half of the major roles went to people not attending the college, and of the rest, most of the major roles gotten by us were guys. Shaminda got Motel, of course, though I think he'dve made a better Lazar Wolf. John got Lazar Wolf, which makes him happy--and me, too, though I think he'dve made the better Motel. ::giggles:: And the one thing I think they did exactly right: Simon got Perchik, who marries Hodel and ends up in Siberia. It was almost typecasting--Simon is just odd enough to be spectacular at playing him. I'd come just to see him do it (though obviously, John, I'll come to see you, too). Albert got Nahum, the beggar, which's a pretty small part, but since Albert's not in chorus or choir or acting or anything but band (he's a very good flute player), I think he's happy to have gotten this far.
But most of the girls who got called back ended up with bit parts or in the chorus, and contrary to all we'd been led to believe, only about ten chorus people got casted. I know Fiddler isn't huge on women, but the greater part of the female roles went to community members. I feel really bad for Jaimie, who got told early on by our choir director (who did the casting in conjunction with her husband, who's one of the theater profs) to try out for Tzeitel, who got called back to read for the sisters, and who ended up cast as Fruma-Sarah, this creepy, nasty old freak of a lady who shows up for about two minutes (you'll remember who've seen the play). Jaimie's taken it very well, though, partly because she's also got a good part in Vagina Monologues, which Lindsey's putting on with help from Susan, who taught my honors seminar last semester. I didn't go for that--besides it not being quite my type of play--::laughs::--I was devoting all my energies to Fiddler. Which, in retrospect, is pretty funny.
What hurt most was not being called back after everyone said I did so well with the tryout, but it turns out I was one of the lucky ones. I'dve felt even worse if I thought I had a shot at something good, only to have it turn out this way. What they did with casting was really pretty weird, 'cause we've got the talent, and we'd been told it'd be students first and community second. I haven't heard as much anger as I thought I would, but there is a lot of bewilderment. We just don't get what they were thinking.
Those who got cast are taking it so well that it's almost maddening, really (though I should point out that I haven't heard from Hailley yet, and she's always good for a vitriolic tangent about our directors). I haven't heard yet from a lot of people who didn't get in, so we'll see.
But hey, all the time I've been setting aside for this? I'm free. I can do my 16 credits and not go crazy, I can pledge for APO without a worry--I can try out for the three student plays holding auditions tomorrow night, though there're only about five roles between them to go around.
I can't believe I've only been back here for ten days. So much has happened that I'm spinning.
-Laurel
1.27.2004
Our hearts a bubblemaker's dream/Moved on by winds of everything...
I have a much bigger appreciation for Jars of Clay's album Much Afraid than I did back when I first got it in middle school.
Started listening to it tonight after going after lyrics to describe something that was going on--and started missing the feel of some of the songs.
I think I get it better because I think more metaphorically now. Sara and I didn't use to like it as much because they'd kind of grown up too fast for us, so to speak--Much Afraid is so different from the self-titled first album, in ways I can't quite describe, except, yeah, that they kind of grew up--and kind of not. 'Cause it's still very dramatic, in its way, in ways that--
--like dude, maybe it's 'cause of all that's been going on over here with APO and other randomness, but it reminds me of Tim and especially Tom, the way the lyrics go. Sometimes I think that only high-school and college boys would write songs like that and sing them, so ambiguous and dramatic and subtly proud of their philosophy. But dang, they're good for twisting into what you want them to say.
Everything is less simple than I saw it in middle school--and that's saying something. But I get what they're saying now, I think, a little better.
Fare thee well
Trade in all our words for tea and sympathy
Wonder why we tried, for things could never be
Play our hearts' lament like an unrehearsed symphony
Not intend
To leave this castle full of empty rooms
Our love the captive in the tower never rescued
And all our victory songs
Seem to be playing out of tune
But it's not the way
That it has to be
Don't trade our love for tea and sympathy
'Cause it's not the way
That it has to be
You begin
All your words fall to the floor and break like china cups
And the waitress grabs a broom and tries to sweep them up
I reach for my tea, slowly drink in
'Cause it's not the way
That it has to be
Don't trade our love for tea and sympathy
'Cause it's not the way
That it has to be
Don't trade our love for tea and sympathy
Fare thee well
The words, the bag of leaves that fill my head
I could taste the bitterness, call the waitress instead
'Cause she holds the answer, smiles and asks one teaspoon or two
'Cause it's not the way
That it has to be
Don't trade our love for tea and sympathy
'Cause it's not the way
That it has to be
Don't trade our love for tea and sympathy
Don't trade us for tea and sympathy
Don't trade us for tea and sympathy
We can work it out
Don't trade us for tea and sympathy
Don't trade us for tea and sympathy
We can work it out
Don't trade us for tea and sympathy
We can work it out...
-"Tea and Sympathy"
...this's been quite the not-all-there-minded rant. Time for some good old-fashioned homework. Yech.
-Laurel
Started listening to it tonight after going after lyrics to describe something that was going on--and started missing the feel of some of the songs.
I think I get it better because I think more metaphorically now. Sara and I didn't use to like it as much because they'd kind of grown up too fast for us, so to speak--Much Afraid is so different from the self-titled first album, in ways I can't quite describe, except, yeah, that they kind of grew up--and kind of not. 'Cause it's still very dramatic, in its way, in ways that--
--like dude, maybe it's 'cause of all that's been going on over here with APO and other randomness, but it reminds me of Tim and especially Tom, the way the lyrics go. Sometimes I think that only high-school and college boys would write songs like that and sing them, so ambiguous and dramatic and subtly proud of their philosophy. But dang, they're good for twisting into what you want them to say.
Everything is less simple than I saw it in middle school--and that's saying something. But I get what they're saying now, I think, a little better.
Fare thee well
Trade in all our words for tea and sympathy
Wonder why we tried, for things could never be
Play our hearts' lament like an unrehearsed symphony
Not intend
To leave this castle full of empty rooms
Our love the captive in the tower never rescued
And all our victory songs
Seem to be playing out of tune
But it's not the way
That it has to be
Don't trade our love for tea and sympathy
'Cause it's not the way
That it has to be
You begin
All your words fall to the floor and break like china cups
And the waitress grabs a broom and tries to sweep them up
I reach for my tea, slowly drink in
'Cause it's not the way
That it has to be
Don't trade our love for tea and sympathy
'Cause it's not the way
That it has to be
Don't trade our love for tea and sympathy
Fare thee well
The words, the bag of leaves that fill my head
I could taste the bitterness, call the waitress instead
'Cause she holds the answer, smiles and asks one teaspoon or two
'Cause it's not the way
That it has to be
Don't trade our love for tea and sympathy
'Cause it's not the way
That it has to be
Don't trade our love for tea and sympathy
Don't trade us for tea and sympathy
Don't trade us for tea and sympathy
We can work it out
Don't trade us for tea and sympathy
Don't trade us for tea and sympathy
We can work it out
Don't trade us for tea and sympathy
We can work it out...
-"Tea and Sympathy"
...this's been quite the not-all-there-minded rant. Time for some good old-fashioned homework. Yech.
-Laurel
1.26.2004
1.25.2004
High Range
Yesterday was pretty darn spectacular.
Slept in late, got up and made ready, had lunch. All the APOs, whom I normally eat with, were in some annual meeting-thing, so I ate with Evelyn, Kate, Albert, and Katya instead. That was pretty cool. Albert I've been getting to know better through linguistics class (though he eats in the Asylum with us a lot anyway), Evelyn through hanging around with Kristin a lot, and Kate through choir--but Katya I've only seen here and there, and when the others left, she and I hung around. I've heard some pretty mixed things about her, but she's certainly interesting, seems very methodical.
Went back and did some cleaning (yes, you see it written, cleaning!), then went over to John'n'Tom's dorm and hung round with them. Though they get along, it's a rare day that they hang around in Tom's room talking, so that was cool. We went to dinner after that--was pretty good--and then John came back with me. He and I played some DDR for a bit, then he and Lily and I decided that we should finally practice our songs for Fiddler tryouts.
So we walked all the way down to the performing arts center in the cold and went into one of the practice rooms. Lily played with a few songs from Godspell, trying to decide which was best, while I stuck to Kiss Me, Kate's "So in Love", the one John gave me to learn a few weeks ago. I'd never sung it in front of anybody before, and had really dragged my feet about it in days past, but finally I tried it for Lily and John, and it went a lot better than I expected.
John took us into the dance studio after that, where it's big and echoey, and had us stand across the room from him (he was at the piano) and sing our songs. From there, he played with our technique. Lily and I got put through quite a few paces--enunciation, projection, placement. ::laughs:: John has an amazing knack for picking technique games that I've done for choir and can't stand. But it was fun trying to sing my whole song with my mouth really wide open, and it sounded pretty cool at times, too.
I can hit all the high notes, which is good. Nothing higher than F-sharp, top line of the staff, but that's good, 'cause it's a solo; I don't want it any higher than that. I am an alto, after all.
After all the singing, Lily decided we needed to have an ice cream party (she decided that a few days ago, actually, when her meal plan got changed and she ended up with all these snack shop dollars), so John got Libby (that's his girlfriend, as I think I said long ago) and we went to one of the cafe-type things and got Ben & Jerry's and hot chocolate, courtesy of Lily :), and hung round eating and talking and laughing.
And then we went back to Lily's and my room for more DDR. We taught Libby, and John and I played, too. Lily went to the late-night gym thing after a while, but we were still playing (albeit on fingers) by the time she got back.
So we were up late, and John and I're going to go halves on the price of two ignition pads for DDR (that's the really sweet kind, one step down from metal) at some point.
Today: singing at Friendly's for choir, a bit of shopping, a bit more song practice, and Fiddler tryouts.
w00t!
-Laurel
Slept in late, got up and made ready, had lunch. All the APOs, whom I normally eat with, were in some annual meeting-thing, so I ate with Evelyn, Kate, Albert, and Katya instead. That was pretty cool. Albert I've been getting to know better through linguistics class (though he eats in the Asylum with us a lot anyway), Evelyn through hanging around with Kristin a lot, and Kate through choir--but Katya I've only seen here and there, and when the others left, she and I hung around. I've heard some pretty mixed things about her, but she's certainly interesting, seems very methodical.
Went back and did some cleaning (yes, you see it written, cleaning!), then went over to John'n'Tom's dorm and hung round with them. Though they get along, it's a rare day that they hang around in Tom's room talking, so that was cool. We went to dinner after that--was pretty good--and then John came back with me. He and I played some DDR for a bit, then he and Lily and I decided that we should finally practice our songs for Fiddler tryouts.
So we walked all the way down to the performing arts center in the cold and went into one of the practice rooms. Lily played with a few songs from Godspell, trying to decide which was best, while I stuck to Kiss Me, Kate's "So in Love", the one John gave me to learn a few weeks ago. I'd never sung it in front of anybody before, and had really dragged my feet about it in days past, but finally I tried it for Lily and John, and it went a lot better than I expected.
John took us into the dance studio after that, where it's big and echoey, and had us stand across the room from him (he was at the piano) and sing our songs. From there, he played with our technique. Lily and I got put through quite a few paces--enunciation, projection, placement. ::laughs:: John has an amazing knack for picking technique games that I've done for choir and can't stand. But it was fun trying to sing my whole song with my mouth really wide open, and it sounded pretty cool at times, too.
I can hit all the high notes, which is good. Nothing higher than F-sharp, top line of the staff, but that's good, 'cause it's a solo; I don't want it any higher than that. I am an alto, after all.
After all the singing, Lily decided we needed to have an ice cream party (she decided that a few days ago, actually, when her meal plan got changed and she ended up with all these snack shop dollars), so John got Libby (that's his girlfriend, as I think I said long ago) and we went to one of the cafe-type things and got Ben & Jerry's and hot chocolate, courtesy of Lily :), and hung round eating and talking and laughing.
And then we went back to Lily's and my room for more DDR. We taught Libby, and John and I played, too. Lily went to the late-night gym thing after a while, but we were still playing (albeit on fingers) by the time she got back.
So we were up late, and John and I're going to go halves on the price of two ignition pads for DDR (that's the really sweet kind, one step down from metal) at some point.
Today: singing at Friendly's for choir, a bit of shopping, a bit more song practice, and Fiddler tryouts.
w00t!
-Laurel
1.23.2004
Well, that would explain it...
I just figured out why my BlogSpeak (the new commenting system) hasn't been working.
It got taken over a week or two ago by HaloScan, and because I hadn't provided an e-mail with my registration, I kind of missed out on that little news bulletin.
But dang, I just got BlogSpeak like a month ago, and no mention of it on the page, so what the heck?
Anyway, HaloScan had a template that fit QPQ perfectly, and it was called "bemani", after the DDR site, so I'm happy.
Time to get ready for the day.
-Laurel
It got taken over a week or two ago by HaloScan, and because I hadn't provided an e-mail with my registration, I kind of missed out on that little news bulletin.
But dang, I just got BlogSpeak like a month ago, and no mention of it on the page, so what the heck?
Anyway, HaloScan had a template that fit QPQ perfectly, and it was called "bemani", after the DDR site, so I'm happy.
Time to get ready for the day.
-Laurel
1.21.2004
Icarus: Almost had it perfect, but just couldn't resist a little bit more...
Got a little closer to success tonight with my sugar doodads.
...Sugar doodads are basically caramelized sugar: you boil sugar, water, and a little corn syrup together (that's to add glucose to the mix, to keep the sucrose from crystallizing)--I had no straight corn syrup, so I added vanilla, which's got corn syrup in it, turns out. When enough water boils off, you're hopefully left with caramelized sugar and just enough moisture to make a syrup out of it. This syrup gets drizzled into cool shapes and hardens into sugar candy. Whee.
This's my second try--my first was back in tenth or eleventh grade--and the problem is that I'm working without a candy thermometer, so I never quite get it. This time I almost got it perfect, but ended up reheating it after I'd partly cooled it down, convinced it wasn't done yet. The rest of the water evaporated during this second simmering, and the sugar--still not quite cooked--hardened to the bottom of the saucepan.
I think I'm reducing the heat too quickly--that may be why I never got the "deep amber" I was looking for and ended up overcooking it in an attempt to find it. The medium heat evaporates the water and probably finishes the caramelization, but it can only go so far; the high is more volatile, but probably helps the most in the cooking process.
Hm.
-Laurel
...Sugar doodads are basically caramelized sugar: you boil sugar, water, and a little corn syrup together (that's to add glucose to the mix, to keep the sucrose from crystallizing)--I had no straight corn syrup, so I added vanilla, which's got corn syrup in it, turns out. When enough water boils off, you're hopefully left with caramelized sugar and just enough moisture to make a syrup out of it. This syrup gets drizzled into cool shapes and hardens into sugar candy. Whee.
This's my second try--my first was back in tenth or eleventh grade--and the problem is that I'm working without a candy thermometer, so I never quite get it. This time I almost got it perfect, but ended up reheating it after I'd partly cooled it down, convinced it wasn't done yet. The rest of the water evaporated during this second simmering, and the sugar--still not quite cooked--hardened to the bottom of the saucepan.
I think I'm reducing the heat too quickly--that may be why I never got the "deep amber" I was looking for and ended up overcooking it in an attempt to find it. The medium heat evaporates the water and probably finishes the caramelization, but it can only go so far; the high is more volatile, but probably helps the most in the cooking process.
Hm.
-Laurel
Give a cheer...
Has been, in large part, a very good day.
First day of classes; went to four, plus choir, 'cause I wasn't sure which three of the four I'd be taking. In each class I found people I knew - absolutely spectacular, as last semester I didn't know anybody, save John in honors.
More on my classes later, but as it stands, the official courses are choir, honors, Acting I, Basic Linguistics, and--Survey of American Lit! ::wild applause:: It does pay after all to show up to a course you've been cut out of--I got in, I got in! Though Ananda made a good point: it's wonderfully ironic that our American literature course is taught by a British professor.
...Psych meth/stat I went to but am dropping 'cause of Am-Lit; will take next semester. Looks massively easy, really. And I get my math requirement done with it. Major hurrah.
Didn't watch the State of the Union, as Lily, Devin, and I randomly went to Wal-Mart and Wegmans at about nine-thirty. Managed, while I was there, to bend my car key, cracking it, while trying to unlock my door; thought I was in big trouble for a bit there, but cheers for God in heaven and Wegmans here on earth, 'cause the guys on the late staff there pounded it back into operational shape, though that's not part of their job, and they did it for free, at like quarter after ten at night, when everything was on skeleton crew. So I bought some cool vegetarian-type cup-o-soups (was curious, as I've always been about organic food) and some gummy alphabet letters, along with various necessities like contact solution.
And the best part? Tomorrow's a late day; no class 'til 12:20. :)
Writing in my acting journal--::squinches and grins::--and then going to bed.
-Laurel
First day of classes; went to four, plus choir, 'cause I wasn't sure which three of the four I'd be taking. In each class I found people I knew - absolutely spectacular, as last semester I didn't know anybody, save John in honors.
More on my classes later, but as it stands, the official courses are choir, honors, Acting I, Basic Linguistics, and--Survey of American Lit! ::wild applause:: It does pay after all to show up to a course you've been cut out of--I got in, I got in! Though Ananda made a good point: it's wonderfully ironic that our American literature course is taught by a British professor.
...Psych meth/stat I went to but am dropping 'cause of Am-Lit; will take next semester. Looks massively easy, really. And I get my math requirement done with it. Major hurrah.
Didn't watch the State of the Union, as Lily, Devin, and I randomly went to Wal-Mart and Wegmans at about nine-thirty. Managed, while I was there, to bend my car key, cracking it, while trying to unlock my door; thought I was in big trouble for a bit there, but cheers for God in heaven and Wegmans here on earth, 'cause the guys on the late staff there pounded it back into operational shape, though that's not part of their job, and they did it for free, at like quarter after ten at night, when everything was on skeleton crew. So I bought some cool vegetarian-type cup-o-soups (was curious, as I've always been about organic food) and some gummy alphabet letters, along with various necessities like contact solution.
And the best part? Tomorrow's a late day; no class 'til 12:20. :)
Writing in my acting journal--::squinches and grins::--and then going to bed.
-Laurel
1.19.2004
Erik [over AIM]: ERIK=> O: ) [ANANDA]=> }; )
Hilarious high-jinks back at college, early in the morning, like one o'clock.
Yay for Erik and 'Nanda, who brought me out of my missing-home-missing-Glenn mini-tragedy by starting a good-natured argument over whether any of us actually watch movies with our significant others, and if not, whose fault it is.
And here at school, down in the side hall on the ground floor, listed in the "12 Ways to Prevent Colds and Flu" display, is a method of telling whether you're drinking enough water--"if your urine is almost clear, that's a good level, but if it is dark yellow, you aren't getting enough".
Oh, and this, too...
Ananda [over AIM]: wowwwwwww... spam e-mail from "U.S Bank", telling me my account's been frozen etc...
..sends me to a site, US Bank..with a korean address extension *giggling*
And now Evan and James are back here, just got in a bit ago, and are sitting on our floor wreaking havoc, so I should go and be social.
Argh, I need to sleep. ::giggles::
-Laurel
Yay for Erik and 'Nanda, who brought me out of my missing-home-missing-Glenn mini-tragedy by starting a good-natured argument over whether any of us actually watch movies with our significant others, and if not, whose fault it is.
And here at school, down in the side hall on the ground floor, listed in the "12 Ways to Prevent Colds and Flu" display, is a method of telling whether you're drinking enough water--"if your urine is almost clear, that's a good level, but if it is dark yellow, you aren't getting enough".
Oh, and this, too...
Ananda [over AIM]: wowwwwwww... spam e-mail from "U.S Bank", telling me my account's been frozen etc...
..sends me to a site, US Bank..with a korean address extension *giggling*
And now Evan and James are back here, just got in a bit ago, and are sitting on our floor wreaking havoc, so I should go and be social.
Argh, I need to sleep. ::giggles::
-Laurel
1.18.2004
"I am gonna beat Tom up later tonight. Probably right after church." -Kristin (who didn't realize it was funny until Tim and I burst out laughing)
::exhales:: Well, back at school. And this afternoon was entertaining; Lily had a bad headache, so I absconded from the scene for a while and went to visit Krystal and Kristin, who happened to have Tim over, and I hung there for a couple of hours and we talked and laughed, and laughed some more. ...Giving the twins digital cameras for Christmas was a dangerous, dangerous thing.
The good news? Being back at school, on my own computer, means that I can see the text on ***stardust now.
The bad news? For some reason, this's still lo-fi Blogger. Maybe if I updated my MIE...? I don't know. Will check.
Saw Brandon yesterday. That was great; he's having a blast in college, had all sorts of tales of good clean music-geek fun to tell.
Saw Glenn yesterday, too. Among the various things we did was watch a snatch of Battlestar Galactica, which Glenn and Matt say is ultra-geeky, but as soon as I mentioned it to my parents, they're like, hey, all right, we used to watch that all the time when it was on TV!
::giggles:: And you wonder where I get it from.
Well, it's nearly 9:30 PM, and I am nowhere near done unpacking. And I forgot my socks. But, as Daffy says, that's what Wally World is for. ...I should stop complaining about Wal-Mart being a nasty evil sweatshop capital. It is a nasty evil sweatshop capital, but I patronize it too often. Darn their low prices.
Word of the week: "spectacular". Adjective, used in such contexts as seeing Glenn last night for four hours was nothing short of spectacular. :)
-Laurel
The good news? Being back at school, on my own computer, means that I can see the text on ***stardust now.
The bad news? For some reason, this's still lo-fi Blogger. Maybe if I updated my MIE...? I don't know. Will check.
Saw Brandon yesterday. That was great; he's having a blast in college, had all sorts of tales of good clean music-geek fun to tell.
Saw Glenn yesterday, too. Among the various things we did was watch a snatch of Battlestar Galactica, which Glenn and Matt say is ultra-geeky, but as soon as I mentioned it to my parents, they're like, hey, all right, we used to watch that all the time when it was on TV!
::giggles:: And you wonder where I get it from.
Well, it's nearly 9:30 PM, and I am nowhere near done unpacking. And I forgot my socks. But, as Daffy says, that's what Wally World is for. ...I should stop complaining about Wal-Mart being a nasty evil sweatshop capital. It is a nasty evil sweatshop capital, but I patronize it too often. Darn their low prices.
Word of the week: "spectacular". Adjective, used in such contexts as seeing Glenn last night for four hours was nothing short of spectacular. :)
-Laurel
1.16.2004
Bah. I'm tired of melodrama.
Time for some mostly-pointless, rather-random, and completely-innocuous humor:
Do the Mario!
That one makes a good start, throwback to our first-grade days, with two fat guys dancing after the cartoons. And this one, as an Easter-egg of sorts...
Ethan Frome Secret Bonus!
...is a version of Ethan Frome in 12 Seconds that does not appear on Nate's site, that you won't find anywhere but this very special offer. ::grin::
Enjoy. Cut loose.
-Laurel
Do the Mario!
That one makes a good start, throwback to our first-grade days, with two fat guys dancing after the cartoons. And this one, as an Easter-egg of sorts...
Ethan Frome Secret Bonus!
...is a version of Ethan Frome in 12 Seconds that does not appear on Nate's site, that you won't find anywhere but this very special offer. ::grin::
Enjoy. Cut loose.
-Laurel
1.15.2004
This, that, and the other thing...
Hurrah for increase in culinary prowess. I have now tackled meat: hamburgers Tuesday, pork and sauerkraut yesterday, chicken piccata tonight. I've been surprised at how easy meat-cooking can be.
I have also come up with a reason to stop biting my nails, 'cause it's interfering with my cooking, I keep getting sore from juices and flour and nonsense getting into my bitten places.
Today's small victory: figured out how to zip up the sweater Glenn's family got me for Christmas. This's not as easy as it sounds--there are two zippers, one on top of the other, on this shirt, and only one of them is meant to be zipped, and it wasn't any too kind, either--I had to soap the bottom couple inches. About the time I was ready to give up, I finally got it to work, and have been wearing it since. I like it. :)
::exhales:: I don't want to go back to school on Sunday. I like it here, here with my best friends and my boyfriend, work and church and a decent kitchen. ...not necessarily in that order.
But at school are my other friends, new classes, APO, the musical, and independence. That has to count for something, right?
-Laurel
I have also come up with a reason to stop biting my nails, 'cause it's interfering with my cooking, I keep getting sore from juices and flour and nonsense getting into my bitten places.
Today's small victory: figured out how to zip up the sweater Glenn's family got me for Christmas. This's not as easy as it sounds--there are two zippers, one on top of the other, on this shirt, and only one of them is meant to be zipped, and it wasn't any too kind, either--I had to soap the bottom couple inches. About the time I was ready to give up, I finally got it to work, and have been wearing it since. I like it. :)
::exhales:: I don't want to go back to school on Sunday. I like it here, here with my best friends and my boyfriend, work and church and a decent kitchen. ...not necessarily in that order.
But at school are my other friends, new classes, APO, the musical, and independence. That has to count for something, right?
-Laurel
1.13.2004
And oh dude dude dude dude dude!
This's gotta be one of the best Strong Bads ruddy ever!
http://www.homestarrunner.com/sbemail94.html
-Laurel
http://www.homestarrunner.com/sbemail94.html
-Laurel
More than you cared to know about bread-baking and maternity...
Apparently I have been blessed with bread-baking talent.
Last night was the second time I made bread using yeast--something my mom can never quite succeed at, and she can do a lot of cooking-type things--and again it came out golden brown and wonderful, when in normal life I have a long and disappointing history of screwing up any baking project more complex than amateur-level cookies. I cannot make fudge (and not just 'cause of the fudge bars). I cannot make candy. I cannot make sugar doodads. I cannot even get maple snow to work, for crying out loud. Mom says I must be good at kneading. But I never really learned how, save a quick paragraph on it from some website.
But last night's dill bread came out fine, not even too dilly, despite that the pot seemed clogged with it due to what was probably an inaccurate estimation of how much dillweed equaled 1/4 cup of chopped dill. (Tip to any dill-bread-makers out there: A tablespoon of dillweed is enough. I used about 1 1/3 tablespoons, but some came out of the pot during the stirring process and stuff like that.) ...Kind of pushes the line a bit in my mouth, because the highish dill concentration makes it a little like rye bread, which I hate anywhere outside of reuben sandwiches.
::blinks:: Dude, I think we have stuff for reuben sandwiches. That's what I'm having for lunch, corned beef and sauerkraut and Thousand Island and a bit of pickle on dill bread. This is excellent.
I feel like Jeffrey Steingarten. ::grin::
So by the time I got to sleep, it cannot have been much later than 2:30 (it was a late-night bread-baking, and if it had taken as long as the recipe said for the risings, I would only have been taking the bread out at that time, not even able to taste it yet)...
...and yet I slept until 1 this afternoon, and would've slept longer, except that my mom called, asking if I'd make spaghetti for dinner tonight, or at least start it.
(Hurrah! Spaghetti! Moving on up in the culinary-preparation world from chicken nuggets out of a box!)
And I'm glad she woke me, 'cause the worst of my dream was over--like, even in my dream I'd realized that part of it was just a dream. 'Cause okay dude, that's got to be the worst dream I've had in a long long time. It was almost funny, though, that my subconscious would at least make sure that, in my dream, I had gotten married before I became a college-freshman mother and had a kid. Though this husband of mine did not look familiar.
::snorts:: And other random things and this and that, and I have to get ready, 'cause in two hours I have to be up at school to pick up my brother from SFE. The end.
-Laurel
Last night was the second time I made bread using yeast--something my mom can never quite succeed at, and she can do a lot of cooking-type things--and again it came out golden brown and wonderful, when in normal life I have a long and disappointing history of screwing up any baking project more complex than amateur-level cookies. I cannot make fudge (and not just 'cause of the fudge bars). I cannot make candy. I cannot make sugar doodads. I cannot even get maple snow to work, for crying out loud. Mom says I must be good at kneading. But I never really learned how, save a quick paragraph on it from some website.
But last night's dill bread came out fine, not even too dilly, despite that the pot seemed clogged with it due to what was probably an inaccurate estimation of how much dillweed equaled 1/4 cup of chopped dill. (Tip to any dill-bread-makers out there: A tablespoon of dillweed is enough. I used about 1 1/3 tablespoons, but some came out of the pot during the stirring process and stuff like that.) ...Kind of pushes the line a bit in my mouth, because the highish dill concentration makes it a little like rye bread, which I hate anywhere outside of reuben sandwiches.
::blinks:: Dude, I think we have stuff for reuben sandwiches. That's what I'm having for lunch, corned beef and sauerkraut and Thousand Island and a bit of pickle on dill bread. This is excellent.
I feel like Jeffrey Steingarten. ::grin::
So by the time I got to sleep, it cannot have been much later than 2:30 (it was a late-night bread-baking, and if it had taken as long as the recipe said for the risings, I would only have been taking the bread out at that time, not even able to taste it yet)...
...and yet I slept until 1 this afternoon, and would've slept longer, except that my mom called, asking if I'd make spaghetti for dinner tonight, or at least start it.
(Hurrah! Spaghetti! Moving on up in the culinary-preparation world from chicken nuggets out of a box!)
And I'm glad she woke me, 'cause the worst of my dream was over--like, even in my dream I'd realized that part of it was just a dream. 'Cause okay dude, that's got to be the worst dream I've had in a long long time. It was almost funny, though, that my subconscious would at least make sure that, in my dream, I had gotten married before I became a college-freshman mother and had a kid. Though this husband of mine did not look familiar.
::snorts:: And other random things and this and that, and I have to get ready, 'cause in two hours I have to be up at school to pick up my brother from SFE. The end.
-Laurel
1.12.2004
On a completely different note...
...quizzes. 'Cause I've got nothing better to do just now. :)
How stuck in the past are you??
(::giggles:: Got that last time I took it, too, in like the tenth grade.)
Who's your inner classic movie star?
-Laurel
|
the internet junk slacker test deems me:
65% slacker |
|
How stuck in the past are you??
 Cor blimey, I taste like Tea.I am a subtle flavour, quiet and polite, gentle, almost ambient. My presence in crowds will often go unnoticed. Best not to spill me on your clothes though, I can leave a nasty stain. What Flavour Are You? |
(::giggles:: Got that last time I took it, too, in like the tenth grade.)
Who's your inner classic movie star?
-Laurel
::blinks:: Maybe I have been away too long...
...I had no idea anything was shaping up between Kathy and Matt until Saturday night, when Kathy told me so. I'd sat by them at the pizza thing and never guessed.
Today they're going out.
Hurrah for them. Wow.
-Laurel
Today they're going out.
Hurrah for them. Wow.
-Laurel
Ah, the sweet smell of success!
...Finally acquired knowledge enough of the code that all my posts can have titles now. ...A lot of back ones are going to start having titles, too, as I add them...'cause, let's face it, titling ancient posts is an excellent way to alleviate boredom. *g* Posts I choose to leave untitled will probably bear the stamp "> >".
-Laurel
-Laurel
1.10.2004
"Don't tell me what I don't understand..."
Tonight has been a bit on the angsty side over here--not in my world as much as other people's, but it's happened in such a way that it's thrown my friends and me into thought. Kathy and I've spent a lot of time on AIM waxing philosophical, talking relationships, hardships, and what we take for granted.
I have to start realizing, first of all, that I'm not as deep as I sometimes think I am...
...and that other people are a lot deeper than I think they are.
In elementary school, there's a huge difference in two years, three years. First grade to third grade, fourth grade--just think of those. And again in middle school--sixth grade to eighth grade, I felt so much like I changed--but eighth to tenth, I got to tenth and realized that as mature as I felt I was, as an eighth-grader, I'd still had so much more to learn.
But the thing is, the gap starts to shrink in junior high. Suddenly the difference between ninth and eleventh grade, tenth and twelfth, high school junior to college freshman...not so big. I mean, there are differences and no mistake. But not as big as we'd have them.
We seniors in SFE last year--Daf and Bethie and I--rather ridiculed the "triplets", the sophomore girls who acted rather like my friends and I did as of sixth grade, everything tempestuous. Not to their faces, of course, but among ourselves, looking with condescending amusement--how do they not understand how tiny their world is? But the thing is, one of them, Danielle, and I got to talking at an Envirothon training session--and I don't remember what she said, but whatever she was saying, I got this sudden flash that she was deeper than I thought she was. For all her warped sense of proportion, her eyes were open to some things--and I felt for the first time like there was hope for her yet, if the comment isn't too savage.
So with my brother. He came to visit in--what was it, November?--and walking down somewhere late at night, we got to talking about careers--and I realized that my brother knew some things I didn't think he knew--including about himself. He hasn't always been very self-aware, or at least hasn't appeared so to me...
...but I'm so used to being the older one when being older really did mean being deeper. What kind of depth can you expect from a second-grader? A fifth-grader, like I was when he was in second grade, really is going to have more. So is an eighth-grader when compared with a fifth-grader, for that matter. I've always been deeper in thought by default, more drawn to reading, more concerned with personal connection, wanting more than a playmate, wanting a soulmate. ...I've found many, over the years.
But however slower boys mature, I have to expect more from my brother, because he will only rise to as high a level as I give him a chance to. I dismiss him, a lot of times, as still my little brother--as not having lived long enough to understand.
But I'm getting flashes of C.J. Cregg, wondering if I'm making that kind of mistake: "*Don't* tell me what I don't understand! I'm not in my freshman year anymore. I know more than you think."
We have had our moments when I see that sometimes we are on the same level, that he knows more than I think.
Glenn is two years younger than me, but I've seen so much depth in him--and what blows my mind is that he sees so much of it in me, and is so surprised that I see so much of it in him. But his mom, she can't see him as anything but her little boy. And he knows it, and I wish she could see that he knows enough to know it.
...but the thing is, that's how it goes. The spectrum shades between red and purple blend together, change so gradually--each shade is so close to the one just before it and just after it, but look at the range of colors it makes. Being a parent must be like that--you see the kid every day. How can you see the change?
It's also hard to see it in yourself. Reading my first QPQ entries, there's a lot of things that surprise me: I only figured that out then?--or, alternately, I was still worried about that?
::exhales:: My mind is spinning off into space, so I think I'll stop this where it is, but what Aneya said, I'll paraphrase here--our group's certainly had its share of drama, but we've gotten to see just how deep, how strong everyone is.
Humanity certainly has its moments of finery, not least of which being how it grows up. I hate the term grow up. I think that's because looking to the finished state, this perfection we're going after, seems to insult what we already are, and--most of all--lays emphasis on how ungraceful the pursuit of it is. I like comparisons to Pippin when it's by choice; I hate looking ungraceful, sounding it, when I'm trying to be the opposite. I hate not being taken seriously when I want to be--this explains a lot of my phobia of being too girly, that I'll be dismissed as hyperemotional when I'm trying to be serious. I don't like saying that college has changed me--first of all, because I'm not sure the change is for the better--secondly, because it seems to imply that I wasn't adult enough as a high-schooler.
But things like this, I learn the most from, and end up understanding so much more because of them.
Daf, we've watched you look for independence, identity. However this turns out, we recognize--and are proud--that you're choosing it for yourself and what you feel you are.
-Laurel
I have to start realizing, first of all, that I'm not as deep as I sometimes think I am...
...and that other people are a lot deeper than I think they are.
In elementary school, there's a huge difference in two years, three years. First grade to third grade, fourth grade--just think of those. And again in middle school--sixth grade to eighth grade, I felt so much like I changed--but eighth to tenth, I got to tenth and realized that as mature as I felt I was, as an eighth-grader, I'd still had so much more to learn.
But the thing is, the gap starts to shrink in junior high. Suddenly the difference between ninth and eleventh grade, tenth and twelfth, high school junior to college freshman...not so big. I mean, there are differences and no mistake. But not as big as we'd have them.
We seniors in SFE last year--Daf and Bethie and I--rather ridiculed the "triplets", the sophomore girls who acted rather like my friends and I did as of sixth grade, everything tempestuous. Not to their faces, of course, but among ourselves, looking with condescending amusement--how do they not understand how tiny their world is? But the thing is, one of them, Danielle, and I got to talking at an Envirothon training session--and I don't remember what she said, but whatever she was saying, I got this sudden flash that she was deeper than I thought she was. For all her warped sense of proportion, her eyes were open to some things--and I felt for the first time like there was hope for her yet, if the comment isn't too savage.
So with my brother. He came to visit in--what was it, November?--and walking down somewhere late at night, we got to talking about careers--and I realized that my brother knew some things I didn't think he knew--including about himself. He hasn't always been very self-aware, or at least hasn't appeared so to me...
...but I'm so used to being the older one when being older really did mean being deeper. What kind of depth can you expect from a second-grader? A fifth-grader, like I was when he was in second grade, really is going to have more. So is an eighth-grader when compared with a fifth-grader, for that matter. I've always been deeper in thought by default, more drawn to reading, more concerned with personal connection, wanting more than a playmate, wanting a soulmate. ...I've found many, over the years.
But however slower boys mature, I have to expect more from my brother, because he will only rise to as high a level as I give him a chance to. I dismiss him, a lot of times, as still my little brother--as not having lived long enough to understand.
But I'm getting flashes of C.J. Cregg, wondering if I'm making that kind of mistake: "*Don't* tell me what I don't understand! I'm not in my freshman year anymore. I know more than you think."
We have had our moments when I see that sometimes we are on the same level, that he knows more than I think.
Glenn is two years younger than me, but I've seen so much depth in him--and what blows my mind is that he sees so much of it in me, and is so surprised that I see so much of it in him. But his mom, she can't see him as anything but her little boy. And he knows it, and I wish she could see that he knows enough to know it.
...but the thing is, that's how it goes. The spectrum shades between red and purple blend together, change so gradually--each shade is so close to the one just before it and just after it, but look at the range of colors it makes. Being a parent must be like that--you see the kid every day. How can you see the change?
It's also hard to see it in yourself. Reading my first QPQ entries, there's a lot of things that surprise me: I only figured that out then?--or, alternately, I was still worried about that?
::exhales:: My mind is spinning off into space, so I think I'll stop this where it is, but what Aneya said, I'll paraphrase here--our group's certainly had its share of drama, but we've gotten to see just how deep, how strong everyone is.
Humanity certainly has its moments of finery, not least of which being how it grows up. I hate the term grow up. I think that's because looking to the finished state, this perfection we're going after, seems to insult what we already are, and--most of all--lays emphasis on how ungraceful the pursuit of it is. I like comparisons to Pippin when it's by choice; I hate looking ungraceful, sounding it, when I'm trying to be the opposite. I hate not being taken seriously when I want to be--this explains a lot of my phobia of being too girly, that I'll be dismissed as hyperemotional when I'm trying to be serious. I don't like saying that college has changed me--first of all, because I'm not sure the change is for the better--secondly, because it seems to imply that I wasn't adult enough as a high-schooler.
But things like this, I learn the most from, and end up understanding so much more because of them.
Daf, we've watched you look for independence, identity. However this turns out, we recognize--and are proud--that you're choosing it for yourself and what you feel you are.
-Laurel
1.09.2004
::bursts out laughing::
A-a-a-and one more thought for the night:
I keep catching this blog called "No Milk Please" in the Blogger mainpage's "recently updated" column, and I keep clicking on it in that you again? What're you saying *this* time? sense. It's an unusual, sometimes bizarre little board, but it's always well-written, which I appreciate. One of tonight's observations, put forth in the midst of a tribute to blogging as an outlet for the psyche, was so amusing that I had to copy it here:
The United States has the highest number of bloggers in the world. If terrorists wanted to wipe out America, they just need to bring Blogger down for a week and watch the violence and suicide increase as people find no vent for their Seinfeldian observations. Right-wing extremists, with no outlet for their fiery misspelled rhetoric will declare war on other nations, resulting in nuclear holocaust. A blogless coup.
...I know full well that it's tongue-in-cheek, but oh, if you've glanced at half as many blogs as I have in my two-plus total years of blogging (dating from Topaz Meanderings, not just this blog)--oh, how you can relate to this picture of Everyman journalism. ::giggling helplessly:: Blogging is, at times, a little less like personal essay and a little more like talk radio, though I don't limit it even in joke to the conservatives. Liberals, moderates--just as crazy, here in our Cheers-like habitats.
A thousand points, in any case, to the wry, twisted pundit of "No Milk Please".
-Laurel
I keep catching this blog called "No Milk Please" in the Blogger mainpage's "recently updated" column, and I keep clicking on it in that you again? What're you saying *this* time? sense. It's an unusual, sometimes bizarre little board, but it's always well-written, which I appreciate. One of tonight's observations, put forth in the midst of a tribute to blogging as an outlet for the psyche, was so amusing that I had to copy it here:
The United States has the highest number of bloggers in the world. If terrorists wanted to wipe out America, they just need to bring Blogger down for a week and watch the violence and suicide increase as people find no vent for their Seinfeldian observations. Right-wing extremists, with no outlet for their fiery misspelled rhetoric will declare war on other nations, resulting in nuclear holocaust. A blogless coup.
...I know full well that it's tongue-in-cheek, but oh, if you've glanced at half as many blogs as I have in my two-plus total years of blogging (dating from Topaz Meanderings, not just this blog)--oh, how you can relate to this picture of Everyman journalism. ::giggling helplessly:: Blogging is, at times, a little less like personal essay and a little more like talk radio, though I don't limit it even in joke to the conservatives. Liberals, moderates--just as crazy, here in our Cheers-like habitats.
A thousand points, in any case, to the wry, twisted pundit of "No Milk Please".
-Laurel
Okay wow...
Ruddy crud. I just now realized that Wow-I'm-Swift Epiphany, when taken as an acronym...
...spells wise.
::exhales in blast, cheeks expanding:: Sheesh.
-Laurel
...spells wise.
::exhales in blast, cheeks expanding:: Sheesh.
-Laurel
Fat penguins--less dense than muscular penguins...
...Skipped out on the hockey game tonight, on the grounds that I spent seven hours at work being cold, semi-bored, and sitting down; there was no need to spend another three hours at a sports event in the same states.
Yesterday's Wow-I'm-Swift Epiphany: Density is a lot about how much space there is between particles.
Illustrated in the following concept: Crunchy snow.
Snow crunches, it turns out, because we're--let's see if I remember this right--collapsing a certain shape of snow crystal (one that doesn't always occur--snow'll be too fluffy or too hard to crunch otherwise). Bunches of collapsed crystals together, the air coming out of the pocket-like shapes as they're stepped on, fall together closely, packing the crunched snow under our feet.
Or something like that. In any case, it got me thinking about soil, and when I studied for Envirothon that the density of soil depended on how packed down it was. There was a mathematical formula to track the extent of this, but the operative part of it involved just how much air (or, to a certain degree, water) was in the soil. If the air (or water) was forced out by the weight of a foot or machine, the soil particles were squished in closer, and soil grew denser, even though it was the same basic amount of matter. It was the same amount, but it wasn't organized the same.
And that, probably via the human density experiment in eighth grade, made me realize that that's a big difference, if not even the main (I'm afraid to say it is in case it isn't) between things that float and things that sink: how close the particles are. Things really dense, really packed together, like stones, tend to sink; things a little more loose and stretched out, like a sponge with all its airy crevices, float.
But sometimes things sink if they get waterlogged. Is that the air being replaced with water, or what?
::goes rather pink:: This's rather a self-mocking epiphany, 'cause then we get people who've known this since fifth grade and cannot believe I've gotten this far already, through Earth science and all, without grasping it more fully. But here I am yesterday, staring out the window at work, thinking that maybe this by nature is part of why muscle weighs more than fat, because fat's about expanded cells, cells that because they can stretch back and forth (you don't usually gain weight because fat cells multiply, but because the existing ones are in swollen state) imply a certain amount of space taken up or left, cells that are stretchier-spongier-floppier, pressing up against each other, than tough fibrous things interwoven, like muscle. Make a square by putting pennies right next to each other, four by four, and you can see the spaces between them where the roundnesses press up but can't come together; maybe fat layers are a little like that.
...maybe I should ask someone in AP bio and shut up.
But that's what I've been thinking, right or wrong.
-Laurel
Yesterday's Wow-I'm-Swift Epiphany: Density is a lot about how much space there is between particles.
Illustrated in the following concept: Crunchy snow.
Snow crunches, it turns out, because we're--let's see if I remember this right--collapsing a certain shape of snow crystal (one that doesn't always occur--snow'll be too fluffy or too hard to crunch otherwise). Bunches of collapsed crystals together, the air coming out of the pocket-like shapes as they're stepped on, fall together closely, packing the crunched snow under our feet.
Or something like that. In any case, it got me thinking about soil, and when I studied for Envirothon that the density of soil depended on how packed down it was. There was a mathematical formula to track the extent of this, but the operative part of it involved just how much air (or, to a certain degree, water) was in the soil. If the air (or water) was forced out by the weight of a foot or machine, the soil particles were squished in closer, and soil grew denser, even though it was the same basic amount of matter. It was the same amount, but it wasn't organized the same.
And that, probably via the human density experiment in eighth grade, made me realize that that's a big difference, if not even the main (I'm afraid to say it is in case it isn't) between things that float and things that sink: how close the particles are. Things really dense, really packed together, like stones, tend to sink; things a little more loose and stretched out, like a sponge with all its airy crevices, float.
But sometimes things sink if they get waterlogged. Is that the air being replaced with water, or what?
::goes rather pink:: This's rather a self-mocking epiphany, 'cause then we get people who've known this since fifth grade and cannot believe I've gotten this far already, through Earth science and all, without grasping it more fully. But here I am yesterday, staring out the window at work, thinking that maybe this by nature is part of why muscle weighs more than fat, because fat's about expanded cells, cells that because they can stretch back and forth (you don't usually gain weight because fat cells multiply, but because the existing ones are in swollen state) imply a certain amount of space taken up or left, cells that are stretchier-spongier-floppier, pressing up against each other, than tough fibrous things interwoven, like muscle. Make a square by putting pennies right next to each other, four by four, and you can see the spaces between them where the roundnesses press up but can't come together; maybe fat layers are a little like that.
...maybe I should ask someone in AP bio and shut up.
But that's what I've been thinking, right or wrong.
-Laurel
::singing:: "Ooh-de-lally, ooh-de-lally - golly, what a day..."
'Nanda's party was tonight-turned-last-night. It was fun, though DDR-free. ...Driving home was, ehm, entertaining, since there were six inches of snow on the unplowed roads. My anti-lock brakes work, I found. No really scary moments, just a few seconds of slipping here and there. Mostly my heater was blasting, the Monkees were playing, and I was doing a good 15 under the speed limit, like everybody else.
Came up to school before all that snow started, looking for Glenn, and ended up talking to his mother for a full fifteen minutes--she's nurse's aide to the middle school, and was having a late night with paperwork 'cause someone'd gotten sick in the afternoon and had to have an ambulance. Like dude, though, we talked for a full civil fifteen minutes, and I actually rather enjoyed it. Was crazy, inasmuch as she is a slightly intimidating personage, and there was nothing intimidating about this. I feel like this's a breakthrough of some sort, finally assured somehow that I'm not in major trouble just for being her only child's first girlfriend.
Today was work, but mostly it was all right. We had fun people in there.
Tomorrow: more work, hockey.
Saturday: pre-pizza entertainment with Glenn, who has practice and can't come with us, then the Mass Outing, whee!
-Laurel
Came up to school before all that snow started, looking for Glenn, and ended up talking to his mother for a full fifteen minutes--she's nurse's aide to the middle school, and was having a late night with paperwork 'cause someone'd gotten sick in the afternoon and had to have an ambulance. Like dude, though, we talked for a full civil fifteen minutes, and I actually rather enjoyed it. Was crazy, inasmuch as she is a slightly intimidating personage, and there was nothing intimidating about this. I feel like this's a breakthrough of some sort, finally assured somehow that I'm not in major trouble just for being her only child's first girlfriend.
Today was work, but mostly it was all right. We had fun people in there.
Tomorrow: more work, hockey.
Saturday: pre-pizza entertainment with Glenn, who has practice and can't come with us, then the Mass Outing, whee!
-Laurel
1.07.2004
> >
Today I went and got 'Nanda a present (no, I'm not telling here what it is, not yet!). Was brilliant and forgot my money when I left the house, so I had to find a place that took Discover. Turns out some places don't. Hmph.
Anyway, yeah, tonight I went up to church, presumably to watch little children with Kathy, but there weren't that many little children, so I spent a lot of the night chasing Jesse (Lesa's three-year-old son) around.
Saturday is Pizza Action, 'cause we're having a mass gathering.
And now I'm gonna watch West Wing.
-Laurel
Anyway, yeah, tonight I went up to church, presumably to watch little children with Kathy, but there weren't that many little children, so I spent a lot of the night chasing Jesse (Lesa's three-year-old son) around.
Saturday is Pizza Action, 'cause we're having a mass gathering.
And now I'm gonna watch West Wing.
-Laurel
1.06.2004
Shoutout to Stew Pot, now a screwy Scottish squire...how's that for groan-worthy, huh?
Am reading the Tolkien biography after all--have been since this weekend, actually--and am actually enjoying it. Skipped ahead to the chapter on Tolkien's friendship with C.S. Lewis and read that, too. :)
Today I did practically nothing of any value, save going up to school for exactly five minutes to pick up my brother from SFE. Made dinner again, out of cartons this time instead of boxes: heat-and-eat pulled pork and barbeque beans. More volleyball practice for my brother; that's what's driving this. At least he ate dinner as soon as it was ready this time.
Once again my blog has ceased to be profound, but right now I have not the energy to change that.
The high school just casted the players for Brigadoon, which they're putting on, so I looked up a synopsis online out of curiosity. It's slightly confusing and out-there a storyline, but on the plus side, Glenn's got a decent role (though apparently not as comic as last year's--whether that's good or bad, I don't know), so that part's cool. Wonder if I'll be able to get to any of the performances. I never got to South Pacific last year, more's the great pity.
I have been informed by my dad that I am working on Thursday and Friday. Batch-indexing. Of course. Wheeeeee. But at least I've gotten lots of time off this break.
On Sunday the English majors went bowling--Matt (who most likely will be one in a couple of years), Aneya, and me. It was great fun. We put H*R names into the computer-scoring, so Matt was The Cheat, Aneya was Trogdor, and I was Coach Z. That was entertaining, 'cause when we got strikes or spares, our altered names showed up, flashing on the screen. Bowled two games (we're so pitiful, it's hysterical) and went down to Other-Coffee-Shop for a change.
Back to school on the 18th. Come back to one set of friends, miss another. Meh, hard to win. Ah, well.
-Laurel
Today I did practically nothing of any value, save going up to school for exactly five minutes to pick up my brother from SFE. Made dinner again, out of cartons this time instead of boxes: heat-and-eat pulled pork and barbeque beans. More volleyball practice for my brother; that's what's driving this. At least he ate dinner as soon as it was ready this time.
Once again my blog has ceased to be profound, but right now I have not the energy to change that.
The high school just casted the players for Brigadoon, which they're putting on, so I looked up a synopsis online out of curiosity. It's slightly confusing and out-there a storyline, but on the plus side, Glenn's got a decent role (though apparently not as comic as last year's--whether that's good or bad, I don't know), so that part's cool. Wonder if I'll be able to get to any of the performances. I never got to South Pacific last year, more's the great pity.
I have been informed by my dad that I am working on Thursday and Friday. Batch-indexing. Of course. Wheeeeee. But at least I've gotten lots of time off this break.
On Sunday the English majors went bowling--Matt (who most likely will be one in a couple of years), Aneya, and me. It was great fun. We put H*R names into the computer-scoring, so Matt was The Cheat, Aneya was Trogdor, and I was Coach Z. That was entertaining, 'cause when we got strikes or spares, our altered names showed up, flashing on the screen. Bowled two games (we're so pitiful, it's hysterical) and went down to Other-Coffee-Shop for a change.
Back to school on the 18th. Come back to one set of friends, miss another. Meh, hard to win. Ah, well.
-Laurel
Nod to Kathy: AIWG!
Today-now-yesterday was a good day. Slept in late after talking to John for a long time, got an early-morning call from Erik (who I snapped at cruelly because he'd woken me up, but he was concerned at my "blah" from before--all apologies, ami, though you've heard them already), hung round, talked to people online, got ready for the day. Scraped off my snow-covered car, went up to school. Talked to random English-department people, then to Glenn; very good. Got home around four-fifteen and made dinner for my brother, who had volleyball practice early tonight: frozen chicken nuggets and Velveeta. Not exactly cuisine, and I don't actually like Velveeta (had leftover spaghetti with my nuggets), but a good deal on the whole, only took 20 minutes or thereabouts from start to finish. Some other time, if I make dinner, I will try to do something cool.
At some point soon 'Nanda's having a birthday party, which will be cool.
Lalalalalalala. ...It's been a while since I've said that.
-Laurel
At some point soon 'Nanda's having a birthday party, which will be cool.
Lalalalalalala. ...It's been a while since I've said that.
-Laurel
1.04.2004
::sigh of improved mood::
...that's a lot happier.
Yay for John's cell having free nights and weekends. I didn't think it was possible for me to be cheery except via sleeping, but I do miss everyone at school, him especially, so hearing a voice from school after these few weeks was incredible.
::thanking::
-Laurel
Yay for John's cell having free nights and weekends. I didn't think it was possible for me to be cheery except via sleeping, but I do miss everyone at school, him especially, so hearing a voice from school after these few weeks was incredible.
::thanking::
-Laurel
Ay chihuahua...
Whew. Just got home forty-five minutes ago from watching little kids for church, and I am still exhausted. In all the time I have spent helping there, I have never had to change a diaper: I was with four-year-olds for PIG, and they're toilet-trained. But I got put with steady-walkers for second service (mostly ones and twos). A lot of the twos can go to the bathroom themselves with help, and that's what I thought I was getting when two-year-old Micah pulled on the bathroom door handle, but when he got his diaper down...ehm, no. Everything everywhere, and there's no sink in the little-kid bathroom, so I'm trying to get him to stay in one place while I wash things off...and the other girls helping me, they couldn't keep an eye on everyone at once, so no one noticed that Chelsea had wandered over to the bathroom until I opened the door and smacked her in the head. ...They noticed her then.
Kathy and I watched the fours later on, for the third service, which would have been fine, we did it every week from February to June--but there was another lady in there helping, and it was her first week, and she was old enough to be, ehm, let's say old-fashioned, so we none of us breathed without worrying about what she would say about it, including Kathy and me.
She took one of the nursery toys, a tiny plastic power tool, home with her to throw it away, on the grounds that it was shaped like a gun (only very vaguely, I might add--in the sense that, you know, it had a handle and a slightly tubular part, but to me that's where the similarities ended...), and as everyone knows, she said, little boys make everything into G-U-N-S and it shouldn't be in the nursery.
...I didn't bother pointing out that Jonah had played with it for over half an hour without doing any more with it than pretending to fix the ceiling.
Lesa, who runs the nursery, got wind of the G-U-N incident and is going to talk to Gloria, who supervises this kind of thing.
Anyway, entertainment this afternoon, so I'll be going. Stuff later.
-Laurel
Kathy and I watched the fours later on, for the third service, which would have been fine, we did it every week from February to June--but there was another lady in there helping, and it was her first week, and she was old enough to be, ehm, let's say old-fashioned, so we none of us breathed without worrying about what she would say about it, including Kathy and me.
She took one of the nursery toys, a tiny plastic power tool, home with her to throw it away, on the grounds that it was shaped like a gun (only very vaguely, I might add--in the sense that, you know, it had a handle and a slightly tubular part, but to me that's where the similarities ended...), and as everyone knows, she said, little boys make everything into G-U-N-S and it shouldn't be in the nursery.
...I didn't bother pointing out that Jonah had played with it for over half an hour without doing any more with it than pretending to fix the ceiling.
Lesa, who runs the nursery, got wind of the G-U-N incident and is going to talk to Gloria, who supervises this kind of thing.
Anyway, entertainment this afternoon, so I'll be going. Stuff later.
-Laurel
1.03.2004
bored.
It's nice to have my car back. Was in the shop yesterday and most of today, getting a tire and an oil leak fixed.
::sighs:: I'm so massively bored tonight. I feel as though I have done everything there is to do around here: it is too soon to cook something else, I read all the books and library books I care about (I love LotR, but what made me think I wanted to read about Tolkien?), I've already played DDR today (heck, I taught my mom how to play DDR today, and she wasn't bad, either), and everything online I do has been done and done and done some more. Tried to get a hold of Glenn, but I guess he's still in Albany; most of my other friends have things going on, and anyway, it's 9:00 already, too late for anything.
So I'm here complaining. And now I'm done. Bleh.
Maybe I will go make myself a cassette tape of DDR music for my car. Though the first thing I'm going to do is have a snack.
-Laurel
::sighs:: I'm so massively bored tonight. I feel as though I have done everything there is to do around here: it is too soon to cook something else, I read all the books and library books I care about (I love LotR, but what made me think I wanted to read about Tolkien?), I've already played DDR today (heck, I taught my mom how to play DDR today, and she wasn't bad, either), and everything online I do has been done and done and done some more. Tried to get a hold of Glenn, but I guess he's still in Albany; most of my other friends have things going on, and anyway, it's 9:00 already, too late for anything.
So I'm here complaining. And now I'm done. Bleh.
Maybe I will go make myself a cassette tape of DDR music for my car. Though the first thing I'm going to do is have a snack.
-Laurel
> >
Instead of going to bed at nine, I wrote letters for the choir trip, asking local businesses for donations. It is going for 12:30, so now, though I've only been awake for some twelve-and-a-half-hours, I plan on reading for a bit and then going to bed.
-Laurel
-Laurel
1.02.2004
> >
Uch. Couldn't sleep worth crap last night, mainly because naps in the afternoon are okay, but naps at night are a bad idea. Slept from ten to midnight while my computer was virus-scanning and defragmenting, and come five-forty-five I was still awake. Had breakfast, even, but didn't get to sleep 'til almost seven.
So it is 1:24 pm, I've been awake for like an hour and up for like half an hour, and I'm thinking that maybe I'm going to bed at nine or something tonight.
Ick, and now my face medicine's revolting against me. Must go have milk and do paper-shredding for my mom and try not to keel over and die, figuratively.
-Laurel
So it is 1:24 pm, I've been awake for like an hour and up for like half an hour, and I'm thinking that maybe I'm going to bed at nine or something tonight.
Ick, and now my face medicine's revolting against me. Must go have milk and do paper-shredding for my mom and try not to keel over and die, figuratively.
-Laurel
Big whonkin' mall...
::sighs:: I'm tired of Lo-Fi Blogger. I don't know under what criteria Blogger decided that my family's only-built-last-year computer could not handle the regular-format page (c'mon, we're eMachines, we have the latest version of MIE, what the heck?), but since I got home I have been posting to this stupid hard-to-navigate page, and I'm just not happy about it.
...But that's rather a whiny tone to set for an entry about so nice a day as today-now-yesterday was.
My brother spent the day at his friend Craig's, so it was just my parents and me for today's trip to the Big Mall. ...Like, okay, as this's a private blog (at least in theory, not counting the fact that you can get to it given the right Google keywords), I could prolly give the name of the mall without fear that someone's gonna use it to hunt me down and steal my credit card and my Peru-trip money and my Beanie Babies from the seventh grade *g*, but I feel that the term Big Mall better expresses my feelings about this mall. 'Cause even by my snot-nosed city-suburb-kid standards, this is a big whonkin' mall. I am completely amazed that I could navigate this mall with any directional sense whatsoever. I haven't been there since like the ninth or tenth grade, with Zinni and Daf and 'Nanda.
The sixties-clothing store is still there, which made me happy, 'cause I thought it'd gone under. What is going under, tragically, is Zany Brainy, this really really awesome store that was Noodle Kidoodle when we first loved it. It was mid-going-out-of-business-sale when I went in today, and all the awesome stuff that made us love the place was gone, if it'd been there since it changed names. All the cool stickers and art supplies and things were gone; it was geared toward a slightly younger set, I think. So I looked through, but even with the slashed prices, I couldn't find a thing I wanted (though I considered getting some Mighty Beanz--::grin::--you seen those things? They're silly, but they're fun).
A whole day of wandering through this massive mall, and I only bought two things. First was a pair of green stretch jeans. I have never seen these things, much less owned them: they are jeans that're 4% spandex, so that they look like straight denim, but when you sit down, the legs don't hike up. This's incredible to me. They're massively comfortable. And were on sale. *g*
Second was this miniature-sunflower garden, one of those things you buy in a little box in bookstores. Got one for Aneya once for Christmas and decided yesterday that I wanted one for myself, 'cause I'm not huge on winter, so if I can take a mini-sunflower garden back to college and watch it grow, so much the better. It's a bit of a scam-in-a-box, though, 'cause I paid six-something and it's totally not worth more than half of that. ::laughs:: The biggest thing in the box was a little teeny book on sunflowers, containing such high-flown adjectives as magnanimous (to describe a sunflower?). Two pages of directions on how to plant the sunflowers, and vague-ish directions at that; another ten-or-twelve pages of filler-type crap. Came with this book a "peat pellet"--small bag of dirt that I will have to soak before I plant--a small clear-plastic planter, and four sunflower seeds. ...I didn't even get a tiny shovel. *g*
Anyway, after the shopping, we went to the Chinese restaurant adjacent, meeting a couple there that my mom and dad are friends with. The wait was ridiculously long, even though the food was good. The best part was dessert, banana spring rolls, which made me think of Teen Girl Squad (ow! My stomach lining!), but which were very, very delicious.
Tomorrow, ridiculously enough, we're going to another mall, 'cause now my brother needs pants and my mom and I need our glasses fixed. So I guess I have another shot at buying things, down at one of the medium-sized malls, one I've been going to since I was two or three.
::yawns:: Am tired. Going to bed soon. Or so I claim.
-Laurel
...But that's rather a whiny tone to set for an entry about so nice a day as today-now-yesterday was.
My brother spent the day at his friend Craig's, so it was just my parents and me for today's trip to the Big Mall. ...Like, okay, as this's a private blog (at least in theory, not counting the fact that you can get to it given the right Google keywords), I could prolly give the name of the mall without fear that someone's gonna use it to hunt me down and steal my credit card and my Peru-trip money and my Beanie Babies from the seventh grade *g*, but I feel that the term Big Mall better expresses my feelings about this mall. 'Cause even by my snot-nosed city-suburb-kid standards, this is a big whonkin' mall. I am completely amazed that I could navigate this mall with any directional sense whatsoever. I haven't been there since like the ninth or tenth grade, with Zinni and Daf and 'Nanda.
The sixties-clothing store is still there, which made me happy, 'cause I thought it'd gone under. What is going under, tragically, is Zany Brainy, this really really awesome store that was Noodle Kidoodle when we first loved it. It was mid-going-out-of-business-sale when I went in today, and all the awesome stuff that made us love the place was gone, if it'd been there since it changed names. All the cool stickers and art supplies and things were gone; it was geared toward a slightly younger set, I think. So I looked through, but even with the slashed prices, I couldn't find a thing I wanted (though I considered getting some Mighty Beanz--::grin::--you seen those things? They're silly, but they're fun).
A whole day of wandering through this massive mall, and I only bought two things. First was a pair of green stretch jeans. I have never seen these things, much less owned them: they are jeans that're 4% spandex, so that they look like straight denim, but when you sit down, the legs don't hike up. This's incredible to me. They're massively comfortable. And were on sale. *g*
Second was this miniature-sunflower garden, one of those things you buy in a little box in bookstores. Got one for Aneya once for Christmas and decided yesterday that I wanted one for myself, 'cause I'm not huge on winter, so if I can take a mini-sunflower garden back to college and watch it grow, so much the better. It's a bit of a scam-in-a-box, though, 'cause I paid six-something and it's totally not worth more than half of that. ::laughs:: The biggest thing in the box was a little teeny book on sunflowers, containing such high-flown adjectives as magnanimous (to describe a sunflower?). Two pages of directions on how to plant the sunflowers, and vague-ish directions at that; another ten-or-twelve pages of filler-type crap. Came with this book a "peat pellet"--small bag of dirt that I will have to soak before I plant--a small clear-plastic planter, and four sunflower seeds. ...I didn't even get a tiny shovel. *g*
Anyway, after the shopping, we went to the Chinese restaurant adjacent, meeting a couple there that my mom and dad are friends with. The wait was ridiculously long, even though the food was good. The best part was dessert, banana spring rolls, which made me think of Teen Girl Squad (ow! My stomach lining!), but which were very, very delicious.
Tomorrow, ridiculously enough, we're going to another mall, 'cause now my brother needs pants and my mom and I need our glasses fixed. So I guess I have another shot at buying things, down at one of the medium-sized malls, one I've been going to since I was two or three.
::yawns:: Am tired. Going to bed soon. Or so I claim.
-Laurel
1.01.2004
Genius at work
http://www.eskimo.com/~miyaguch/schmies.html
...Got 158. Though I don't know how I did it. Holy cow.
And this one...
http://www.eskimo.com/~miyaguch/quantityquiz.html
...I got a 15. Out of 60. 25%, woo7. ::laughs::
...So much for going to bed.
-Laurel
...Got 158. Though I don't know how I did it. Holy cow.
And this one...
http://www.eskimo.com/~miyaguch/quantityquiz.html
...I got a 15. Out of 60. 25%, woo7. ::laughs::
...So much for going to bed.
-Laurel
Let's be predictable: "All is quiet on New Year's Day..."
All of today-now-yesterday was great fun. Slept in late, lounged round in my pajamas. Talked to Erik on the phone, talked to Glenn online a bit after that (he's in Albany with family--all of whom, including him, have fallen sick--::frowns::). Finally showered and made ready for the day, then made "PB-Triple-C" bars (peanut-butter-chocolate-cream-cheese) from the cookbook Erik got me. (Not their original name, no.) The things turned out pretty much exactly as they were supposed to, which is a very good thing. Tasted good, too. :)
Went to Aneya's for New Year's: Bethie was there, and Daf and Calypso, and Matt and, for a bit, Erik. We played Cranium, Bethie-Matt-me against the others; my team won. Did other entertaining things after that, like locking Calypso and Matt out of the house for a bit (long story), then unlocking the door and seeing if they'd ever figure it out before we took pity on them and let them in (nope). Had lots of sparkling grape juice, and I watched my first bit of South Park (the corruption continues--::laughs::), which wasn't as terrible as I'd expected, so maybe I got one of the tamer ones (the South Park kids go on Ritalin; Timmy becomes part of a band). Not like I'm gonna go out of my way to see any more of it, but it was...interesting. *g*
We didn't tune in to Times Square 'til 11:58, but that was okay--we all managed to get our flutes of grape juice into Aneya's living room in time, and clinked plastic tubular glasses in toasts before drinking.
Left around 12:30, took Matt home, twice backing out of driveways I almost got hit (once was my fault, once was not). Honestly, in three days I will have been driving for five months, and I'm thinking it's pretty much a divine miracle that I have not hit anything or been hit, 'cause I've had enough close calls in my time. My personal favorites: seeing a whole line of buses with the flashing stop and still not getting it 'cause the car in front of me was still going and therefore following along, like some kind of crazed imprinted duckling tagging after its mother, even though I could potentially have hit a high school student trying to cross; and--this one occurred only five days after getting my license, so cut me some slack--going onto a highway offramp, somehow either misinterpreting or not noticing the signs that said one way.
Though, in my own defense, my worst mistakes happen when I am alone (I would have seen that car on the honors trip, so shut up before you start, John and Erik--::blows raspberry::). With other people, I am much better, mainly because I am less likely to panic, which makes me do many of these stupid things. (Though, strangely, with other people present I do get lost a lot more often.) Discounting tonight as an outlier, I have gotten much better over time.
You who ride with me and never breathe a word, I thank you for your undeserved support. Thanks also to Glenn and Aneya; I know not how they acquired their respective abilities to accurately direct my driving, but they did--I am still in awe of Glenn getting me from Great Northern Pizza to his house without using the highway and without taking over 20 minutes. (If only I had the slightest idea how he did it; it might help me in the future. ::laughs::) And thanks to John for some words he doesn't remember anymore that've made me feel a lot better when I screw up, even though he also likes to heckle me about the honors trip and volunteer my driving for things I don't intend to drive to. *g*
Anyway, tonight was cool, and tomorrow-slash-today is some much-needed clothes shopping, and I'm tired, and holy cow, it's quarter to three and I had no idea so much time'd passed.
'night, all.
-Laurel
Went to Aneya's for New Year's: Bethie was there, and Daf and Calypso, and Matt and, for a bit, Erik. We played Cranium, Bethie-Matt-me against the others; my team won. Did other entertaining things after that, like locking Calypso and Matt out of the house for a bit (long story), then unlocking the door and seeing if they'd ever figure it out before we took pity on them and let them in (nope). Had lots of sparkling grape juice, and I watched my first bit of South Park (the corruption continues--::laughs::), which wasn't as terrible as I'd expected, so maybe I got one of the tamer ones (the South Park kids go on Ritalin; Timmy becomes part of a band). Not like I'm gonna go out of my way to see any more of it, but it was...interesting. *g*
We didn't tune in to Times Square 'til 11:58, but that was okay--we all managed to get our flutes of grape juice into Aneya's living room in time, and clinked plastic tubular glasses in toasts before drinking.
Left around 12:30, took Matt home, twice backing out of driveways I almost got hit (once was my fault, once was not). Honestly, in three days I will have been driving for five months, and I'm thinking it's pretty much a divine miracle that I have not hit anything or been hit, 'cause I've had enough close calls in my time. My personal favorites: seeing a whole line of buses with the flashing stop and still not getting it 'cause the car in front of me was still going and therefore following along, like some kind of crazed imprinted duckling tagging after its mother, even though I could potentially have hit a high school student trying to cross; and--this one occurred only five days after getting my license, so cut me some slack--going onto a highway offramp, somehow either misinterpreting or not noticing the signs that said one way.
Though, in my own defense, my worst mistakes happen when I am alone (I would have seen that car on the honors trip, so shut up before you start, John and Erik--::blows raspberry::). With other people, I am much better, mainly because I am less likely to panic, which makes me do many of these stupid things. (Though, strangely, with other people present I do get lost a lot more often.) Discounting tonight as an outlier, I have gotten much better over time.
You who ride with me and never breathe a word, I thank you for your undeserved support. Thanks also to Glenn and Aneya; I know not how they acquired their respective abilities to accurately direct my driving, but they did--I am still in awe of Glenn getting me from Great Northern Pizza to his house without using the highway and without taking over 20 minutes. (If only I had the slightest idea how he did it; it might help me in the future. ::laughs::) And thanks to John for some words he doesn't remember anymore that've made me feel a lot better when I screw up, even though he also likes to heckle me about the honors trip and volunteer my driving for things I don't intend to drive to. *g*
Anyway, tonight was cool, and tomorrow-slash-today is some much-needed clothes shopping, and I'm tired, and holy cow, it's quarter to three and I had no idea so much time'd passed.
'night, all.
-Laurel