Drat. So Binghamton wasn't kidding when they said they were shutting e-mail/BUSI off today for maintenance. Oh, well, they'll be back tomorrow.
Proving that they still write some of the catchiest songs known to man, and that they still have a sense of humor, Newsboys has come out (well, probably several months ago) with a rather exuberantly dorky song about writing catchy songs, the addictive "I Fought the La...". Sean got me an iTunes giftcard for Christmas, which is how I acquired it. I probably shouldn't like this song nearly as much as I do, but oh, I do.
Went to Rochester this past weekend, incidentally, which was very nice. Six of us made gingerbread houses, something I haven't done since about kindergarten (well, I think there was one other time, but I remember nothing of it), and then played Apples to Apples. About Aneya and me getting each other the same Christmas present: whoa! And I saw Erik for a bit the next day, since he hadn't been there.
I did indeed get two Dave Barry books for Christmas, but to be fair, I also asked for them when my mom informed me that she needed more gift ideas than just DangerMouse on DVD (with which I was also blessed--hurrah!). So that doesn't really count as predicting them, huh?
My DDR pad is dead after two-and-a-half honorable years of periodic service, which is a pretty long life for a dance pad. I should probably look into getting another one. Anyone want to go halves on an eBay set of two? You'd get one, I'd get one, and they're cheapest that way. Hit up my comment box at the end of this post, I guess (new readers: that's the weird Latin thing that usually says "silentium"), if e-mail's still down, haha.
12.24.2007
Maranatha
Waiting in silence, waiting in hope
We are your people; we long for you, Lord
God ever with us, Emmanuel
Come, Lord Jesus - Maranatha!
Nowhere on Google can I find the lyrics in their entirety to that hymn, which I'd never heard until we sang it for church choir a few weeks ago. It's really lovely.
There was also, in our hymnal, music to Richard Wilbur's "A Christmas Hymn," which I quoted in full last year (though you'll have to scroll down). I didn't get to hear how it went, but I was impressed. He was credited as author, there on the page, of course.
*
Heedless of traditional warnings against entering a mall on Christmas Eve, my family went over to Carousel Center to see National Treasure: Book of Secrets. Surprisingly, the mall was simply not that crowded. Maybe people were, you know, seeing their families or something.
The movie was entertaining and I liked it, but I'm still trying to figure out whether they left a humongous plot point unresolved. (Possible spoiler alert coming, but then, probably not. Make your own decision on whether you want to chance the rest of this paragraph.) I've been reading the reviews, but they don't make this any clearer: I understand that the point of trying to find the treasure was to clear Ben's ancestor's name--they certainly say that more than once. My question is, though, how does finding the treasure do that? Does it mean that the diary page isn't a list of conspirators? Because if it doesn't, why would finding the map on the back of the page undercut the conspirator list on the front of the page? They must've addressed this point exactly once, if they addressed it at all, and I must have missed it. If anyone else is seeing the movie, could you keep an ear out for me and let me know?
*
Unless this year's newcomers to the blog have done some considerable poking around my archives (or, I suppose, followed the link to last year's entry), they will not be familiar with my Christmas Eve tradition of saluting, in brief, all the new friends I've made in the past year (whether or not they know it).
So, merry Christmas to Kaleb and TJ, Laura from psych and folk dancing, Lori, Billy D., Erica's Josh, Dustin, Josh G., 12-Park-Jaime, summer-Cory, summer-Jonathan, Krista, Katrina, Tasha, Peter and Janet, Yoshiko and Shuyi, Abby T. (the one I referenced in '03 was pirate-alphabet-Abby), Carrie, Matt and Anne and Anne's mom Joyce, Lee, Ife, Micah, Jose, Ryan, Sarah K., CN-Matt, CN-Josh, Andrei, Natasha, Laura K., Polly, Mijeong, Hyewon, Chiun, Meir, Marion, Pam, Michelle, Stephanie, Clarissa, Annissa, Katy, Mike, and of course Ninth Hour (Christina-Matt-Jon-Thomas-Karen-Grace-Anthony-Richard-Sunroot-Sam). I hope I'm not forgetting anyone. I'm truly rich in warm and friendly people this year. I mean, most years I am, but I have made a lot of new friends this semester. Knowing to join IV-B right away made things so much easier.
Merry Christmas to Samweli...we've had to say goodbye to Sunil, as I mentioned some months ago, and don't know how he is. Someday we will. Merry Christmas to the soldiers; peace and safety.
And a merry Christmas to, as always, you, my longtime friends and cariños. So much love.
We are your people; we long for you, Lord
God ever with us, Emmanuel
Come, Lord Jesus - Maranatha!
Nowhere on Google can I find the lyrics in their entirety to that hymn, which I'd never heard until we sang it for church choir a few weeks ago. It's really lovely.
There was also, in our hymnal, music to Richard Wilbur's "A Christmas Hymn," which I quoted in full last year (though you'll have to scroll down). I didn't get to hear how it went, but I was impressed. He was credited as author, there on the page, of course.
*
Heedless of traditional warnings against entering a mall on Christmas Eve, my family went over to Carousel Center to see National Treasure: Book of Secrets. Surprisingly, the mall was simply not that crowded. Maybe people were, you know, seeing their families or something.
The movie was entertaining and I liked it, but I'm still trying to figure out whether they left a humongous plot point unresolved. (Possible spoiler alert coming, but then, probably not. Make your own decision on whether you want to chance the rest of this paragraph.) I've been reading the reviews, but they don't make this any clearer: I understand that the point of trying to find the treasure was to clear Ben's ancestor's name--they certainly say that more than once. My question is, though, how does finding the treasure do that? Does it mean that the diary page isn't a list of conspirators? Because if it doesn't, why would finding the map on the back of the page undercut the conspirator list on the front of the page? They must've addressed this point exactly once, if they addressed it at all, and I must have missed it. If anyone else is seeing the movie, could you keep an ear out for me and let me know?
*
Unless this year's newcomers to the blog have done some considerable poking around my archives (or, I suppose, followed the link to last year's entry), they will not be familiar with my Christmas Eve tradition of saluting, in brief, all the new friends I've made in the past year (whether or not they know it).
So, merry Christmas to Kaleb and TJ, Laura from psych and folk dancing, Lori, Billy D., Erica's Josh, Dustin, Josh G., 12-Park-Jaime, summer-Cory, summer-Jonathan, Krista, Katrina, Tasha, Peter and Janet, Yoshiko and Shuyi, Abby T. (the one I referenced in '03 was pirate-alphabet-Abby), Carrie, Matt and Anne and Anne's mom Joyce, Lee, Ife, Micah, Jose, Ryan, Sarah K., CN-Matt, CN-Josh, Andrei, Natasha, Laura K., Polly, Mijeong, Hyewon, Chiun, Meir, Marion, Pam, Michelle, Stephanie, Clarissa, Annissa, Katy, Mike, and of course Ninth Hour (Christina-Matt-Jon-Thomas-Karen-Grace-Anthony-Richard-Sunroot-Sam). I hope I'm not forgetting anyone. I'm truly rich in warm and friendly people this year. I mean, most years I am, but I have made a lot of new friends this semester. Knowing to join IV-B right away made things so much easier.
Merry Christmas to Samweli...we've had to say goodbye to Sunil, as I mentioned some months ago, and don't know how he is. Someday we will. Merry Christmas to the soldiers; peace and safety.
And a merry Christmas to, as always, you, my longtime friends and cariños. So much love.
12.22.2007
For my senior-year and BA-holding friends,
who are all much braver than I am
From a site showing some of Bill Watterson's early work (he's the guy who did my favorite comic ever, Calvin and Hobbes):
If even engineers are having a little trouble these days, you know things're bad. So here you go, and just think: in another three semesters, this will probably be me, in spite of everything!
12.19.2007
::stares::
The college semester where I've felt most like an idiot and taken the least pride and pleasure in my work...
...and I got the first 4.0 of my entire college career.
Not that I'm not grateful, but what?!
Also, if I could rant for just a minute: I can grudgingly tolerate the concept of "98% Fat Free Holiday Nog," even if it (as John used to say) makes my heart sad. But lite "orange juice beverage" is going too darn far. Yes, Tropicana took regular orange juice (what fruit juice is more healthy than that?!), watered it down, then added sucralose (ewwwww) to try to compensate flavor-wise. And it's in my family's refrigerator. This is ridiculous: my feeling is, if you are not actively diabetic or fructose-intolerant, you have absolutely no business not drinking real orange juice. It's just calorie/sugar paranoia run amok. If you cannot afford the extra sixty calories between regular and lite orange juice, or if 22 grams of naturally-occurring (not corn syrup, which is more of a problem) sugar just can't be borne, then elsewhere in your diet you're consistently making bad nutritional choices. Change those, then; don't drink orange-colored Splenda water. I know this is not life or death, but it's just the principle of the thing.
...and I got the first 4.0 of my entire college career.
Not that I'm not grateful, but what?!
Also, if I could rant for just a minute: I can grudgingly tolerate the concept of "98% Fat Free Holiday Nog," even if it (as John used to say) makes my heart sad. But lite "orange juice beverage" is going too darn far. Yes, Tropicana took regular orange juice (what fruit juice is more healthy than that?!), watered it down, then added sucralose (ewwwww) to try to compensate flavor-wise. And it's in my family's refrigerator. This is ridiculous: my feeling is, if you are not actively diabetic or fructose-intolerant, you have absolutely no business not drinking real orange juice. It's just calorie/sugar paranoia run amok. If you cannot afford the extra sixty calories between regular and lite orange juice, or if 22 grams of naturally-occurring (not corn syrup, which is more of a problem) sugar just can't be borne, then elsewhere in your diet you're consistently making bad nutritional choices. Change those, then; don't drink orange-colored Splenda water. I know this is not life or death, but it's just the principle of the thing.
12.15.2007
Gratitude
In honor of the nearly forty-one minutes' worth of sermon (swiped off an acquaintence's blog; long but much-needed) I just heard on the humongous importance of thankfulness, here are forty-one things I'm thankful for, starting importantly general and getting delightfully specific:
1. New life in Christ. (Many of these are in no particular order, but it would be truly lame to put that any farther down the list.)
2. Having two parents (still married) and a brother.
3. Having true friends, two whole hands' worth and then some.
4. Spending my entire K-12 career with best friends, some of whom I didn't realize until later were such.
5. Never lacking for food, water, clothing, shelter, or love.
6. Absence of severe physical/mental/emotional afflictions.
7. Living in a free society.
8. Living in a time and culture that allows me to wear pants, own property, feel reasonably assured of my personal safety, participate in government and education, and do whatever I want with my hair.
9. The printed word and my ability to read it, from which so very, very much has followed.
10. Scholarshipped private-school college education.
11. The experience of graduate education, even when pleasure is in no way involved.
12. In particular, graduate education at a school repeatedly considered the best public-education value in the entire northeastern United States.
13. Pearce Memorial Church, to which I owe so much.
14. InterVarsity-USA, to which I owe little less.
15. The delicious small simplicity, closeness, and sincerity of InterVarsity-Alfred.
16. The mere astonishing actuality of the close-feelingness of a chapter as big as InterVarsity-Binghamton, probably a result of their own sincerity.
17. Good Shepherd Anglican Church.
18. Practically everything ever written by C.S. Lewis.
19. Basileia, for the blessings I saw right away, and for the big one I didn't register until later (having met Carrie before Binghamton).
20. Getting the church-finding-in-Binghamton thing right the first time (thank you, Carrie Moorhead).
21. The frustration and lingering discontent of not having gotten it right in Syracuse for at least a year, if only for having a much better understanding that, outside of Methodism and IV, it really does help to know some liturgy.
22. Having picked up some of that liturgy already via having Catholic friends.
23. Having a license and a car.
24. The incredible freedom to take care of others that I have by way of being a spoiled child of a family with more than enough of nearly everything. Ninth Hour thinks it's because I'm service-oriented that I can bring food and give rides. I may or may not be so, but one thing I do know: nearly everything God puts into my hands is sent through my parents' hands first, even now.
25. The internet in general.
26. Wegmans.
27. Farmers' markets.
28. The communicational addictions that are e-mail and AOL Instant Messenger.
29. Cross-lookup online of one Bible verse/passage/chapter/book across dozens of different translations.
30. Multiple translations in tangible form on my bookshelf.
31. Children's literature as an entire gorgeous genre.
32. Folk dancing.
33. Dance Dance Revolution.
34. Medical, security, and rescue technicians everywhere. (Like I said, much of this was not supposed to be in order.)
35. Libraries.
36. Cafés/teashops.
37. Plumbing, particularly the indoor kind.
38. Hugs.
39. Naps, one of which I interrupted the writing of this entry to take.
40. Days devoid of responsibility.
41. Life being like a sonnet.
...I got to forty-one way before I covered everything I planned to cover, but I'm still going to stop there.
Gracias a Dios.
1. New life in Christ. (Many of these are in no particular order, but it would be truly lame to put that any farther down the list.)
2. Having two parents (still married) and a brother.
3. Having true friends, two whole hands' worth and then some.
4. Spending my entire K-12 career with best friends, some of whom I didn't realize until later were such.
5. Never lacking for food, water, clothing, shelter, or love.
6. Absence of severe physical/mental/emotional afflictions.
7. Living in a free society.
8. Living in a time and culture that allows me to wear pants, own property, feel reasonably assured of my personal safety, participate in government and education, and do whatever I want with my hair.
9. The printed word and my ability to read it, from which so very, very much has followed.
10. Scholarshipped private-school college education.
11. The experience of graduate education, even when pleasure is in no way involved.
12. In particular, graduate education at a school repeatedly considered the best public-education value in the entire northeastern United States.
13. Pearce Memorial Church, to which I owe so much.
14. InterVarsity-USA, to which I owe little less.
15. The delicious small simplicity, closeness, and sincerity of InterVarsity-Alfred.
16. The mere astonishing actuality of the close-feelingness of a chapter as big as InterVarsity-Binghamton, probably a result of their own sincerity.
17. Good Shepherd Anglican Church.
18. Practically everything ever written by C.S. Lewis.
19. Basileia, for the blessings I saw right away, and for the big one I didn't register until later (having met Carrie before Binghamton).
20. Getting the church-finding-in-Binghamton thing right the first time (thank you, Carrie Moorhead).
21. The frustration and lingering discontent of not having gotten it right in Syracuse for at least a year, if only for having a much better understanding that, outside of Methodism and IV, it really does help to know some liturgy.
22. Having picked up some of that liturgy already via having Catholic friends.
23. Having a license and a car.
24. The incredible freedom to take care of others that I have by way of being a spoiled child of a family with more than enough of nearly everything. Ninth Hour thinks it's because I'm service-oriented that I can bring food and give rides. I may or may not be so, but one thing I do know: nearly everything God puts into my hands is sent through my parents' hands first, even now.
25. The internet in general.
26. Wegmans.
27. Farmers' markets.
28. The communicational addictions that are e-mail and AOL Instant Messenger.
29. Cross-lookup online of one Bible verse/passage/chapter/book across dozens of different translations.
30. Multiple translations in tangible form on my bookshelf.
31. Children's literature as an entire gorgeous genre.
32. Folk dancing.
33. Dance Dance Revolution.
34. Medical, security, and rescue technicians everywhere. (Like I said, much of this was not supposed to be in order.)
35. Libraries.
36. Cafés/teashops.
37. Plumbing, particularly the indoor kind.
38. Hugs.
39. Naps, one of which I interrupted the writing of this entry to take.
40. Days devoid of responsibility.
41. Life being like a sonnet.
...I got to forty-one way before I covered everything I planned to cover, but I'm still going to stop there.
Gracias a Dios.
12.13.2007
-also-
Maybe I should decide (after all this time) whether I mean this journal primarily as a record of my life, for my own benefit, or as a way to tell others what's going on with me.
It turns out there's a significant percentage of the blog-reading world that would probably find mine boring as all get-out, except for the parts where I'm being soul-searchy. Which I tend not to like, in retrospect, because I have a low tolerance for stale angst (mine, that is; I'm not telling anyone else what to write). When I look back at the stuff from, say, freshman year, I'm kind of glad for the boring parts. It doesn't do to always be grappling with or proclaiming or celebrating something. Sometimes I just want to remember what things were like. So, while I've imposed the five-sentence mundanity limit, I don't know.
And maybe I should finally stop signing every post. There's something about the routine that's always seemed right before, but now it kind of strikes me as hokey, not to mention intensely repetitive.
It turns out there's a significant percentage of the blog-reading world that would probably find mine boring as all get-out, except for the parts where I'm being soul-searchy. Which I tend not to like, in retrospect, because I have a low tolerance for stale angst (mine, that is; I'm not telling anyone else what to write). When I look back at the stuff from, say, freshman year, I'm kind of glad for the boring parts. It doesn't do to always be grappling with or proclaiming or celebrating something. Sometimes I just want to remember what things were like. So, while I've imposed the five-sentence mundanity limit, I don't know.
And maybe I should finally stop signing every post. There's something about the routine that's always seemed right before, but now it kind of strikes me as hokey, not to mention intensely repetitive.
::blinkety::
I feel compelled to add, for greater blog truthfulness, that the sleep thing hasn't been working as well as I expected.
Still, things've been pretty good. It was fun having people over last night.
I'm still waiting on the moment to make Anne's soup (my normal state, since Tuesday night, has been hours of mindless laziness followed by fits of cooking). And to use up my last two eggs before they rot.
-Laurel
Still, things've been pretty good. It was fun having people over last night.
I'm still waiting on the moment to make Anne's soup (my normal state, since Tuesday night, has been hours of mindless laziness followed by fits of cooking). And to use up my last two eggs before they rot.
-Laurel
12.11.2007
Semester's End: What I've Done So Far to Celebrate the Next Forty-Eightish(!) Days of Freedom
Well, I slept, for one thing. From about five-something tonight to almost nine. Don't worry, I'll still get to sleep tonight. Believe me.
And then I wanted to experiment with recreating the butternut-squash soup that Reverend Anne posted about on her blog (yes, she has a blog. It's good, too), but it seemed too late at night to be roasting squash and then putting it through the blender, so I guess I'll do it tomorrow. Speaking of foodstuffs that aren't in cans or boxes, I should also do something about my pears, potatoes, lemons, and horrifying amount of leftover cheese bread. Not that I couldn't bring the potatoes and lemons home, since they'll keep that long.
But anyway, while I was still considering making the soup, I'd gone on her blog to look up the recipe, and one thing led to another, and I ended up following her link to Micah's blog and just sitting in my chair, half braindead, reading months' worth of entries, which mostly take the form of poems, since he's an MFA candidate in poetry. Micah, as I've mentioned, is not only my choir director, but also the youth pastor. He's also a first-semester graduate student, like me...and, I've discovered to my shock, is only a year older than me. Less than a year, technically.
Though he didn't write it (his friend Jan apparently did), this one made me laugh, and I post it here for Matt and Christina's benefit:
Micah,
I miss your beard.
The locks that made you look
like a Hassidic man in golden tones,
without the baloney curls.
Micah,
I miss your beard,
the golden fleece of Jason's quest.
The nest that called noses to rest
against your cheek.
Micah,
I miss your beard,
the warm spot from winter winds.
The fur coat your laughter wore.
Micah,
I miss your beard.
And the childish way we used to say,
What's under Micah's beard?
It's another beard.
More mental salmagundi:
Turns out I like buttered Brussels sprouts. I bought them last month out of Wegmans's frozen-food case in what I thought, surveying them tonight, might have been an act of unreasonable optimism: I have no recollection of the last time I attempted Brussels sprouts, nor whether I liked them when I did. But I needed to eat something for dinner more nutritious than what I began with, which was a piece of Annissa's birthday cake that she'd given me when I stopped by for a minute. They were, as I say, pretty good.
Mijeong came home from the library (she's got two tests tomorrow!) as I was putting the sprouts in the microwave, and we talked for about ten minutes as they cooked and cooled, time she used to make herself a scrambled egg. It's funny, because she was so quiet and shy when we first moved in, but now, no question, she's the apartmentmate I talk to most, and with the most ease. It probably turned out that way because she had friends over for dinner one Sunday night back around October, and when I came downstairs for a minute--to get a glass of milk, maybe?--she invited me to try some of the food she'd made, and before I knew it, the four of us had been talking for something like three-and-a-half hours. It was crazy. We did it again, this time at one of her friends' houses (I don't know how to spell her name; something like Chiun), the Sunday before Thanksgiving. Not that we were all equally loud--Chiun and I were the loudest and most talkative ones both times, I think--but it was very nice.
I think the new apartmentmate (Polly, if I haven't mentioned, decided to move into the city, where it's cheaper and she's nearer her friends) moves in tomorrow, actually. All I know about the new girl is that her name is Jessica and she's American. Should be interesting.
I should probably go back to bed; it's later than my timestamp says it is, as almost-always. Lots of cooking tomorrow! Yay! And I should clean things up then, too, before various Ninth Hour (of course!) people come for dinner.
-Laurel
And then I wanted to experiment with recreating the butternut-squash soup that Reverend Anne posted about on her blog (yes, she has a blog. It's good, too), but it seemed too late at night to be roasting squash and then putting it through the blender, so I guess I'll do it tomorrow. Speaking of foodstuffs that aren't in cans or boxes, I should also do something about my pears, potatoes, lemons, and horrifying amount of leftover cheese bread. Not that I couldn't bring the potatoes and lemons home, since they'll keep that long.
But anyway, while I was still considering making the soup, I'd gone on her blog to look up the recipe, and one thing led to another, and I ended up following her link to Micah's blog and just sitting in my chair, half braindead, reading months' worth of entries, which mostly take the form of poems, since he's an MFA candidate in poetry. Micah, as I've mentioned, is not only my choir director, but also the youth pastor. He's also a first-semester graduate student, like me...and, I've discovered to my shock, is only a year older than me. Less than a year, technically.
Though he didn't write it (his friend Jan apparently did), this one made me laugh, and I post it here for Matt and Christina's benefit:
Micah,
I miss your beard.
The locks that made you look
like a Hassidic man in golden tones,
without the baloney curls.
Micah,
I miss your beard,
the golden fleece of Jason's quest.
The nest that called noses to rest
against your cheek.
Micah,
I miss your beard,
the warm spot from winter winds.
The fur coat your laughter wore.
Micah,
I miss your beard.
And the childish way we used to say,
What's under Micah's beard?
It's another beard.
More mental salmagundi:
Turns out I like buttered Brussels sprouts. I bought them last month out of Wegmans's frozen-food case in what I thought, surveying them tonight, might have been an act of unreasonable optimism: I have no recollection of the last time I attempted Brussels sprouts, nor whether I liked them when I did. But I needed to eat something for dinner more nutritious than what I began with, which was a piece of Annissa's birthday cake that she'd given me when I stopped by for a minute. They were, as I say, pretty good.
Mijeong came home from the library (she's got two tests tomorrow!) as I was putting the sprouts in the microwave, and we talked for about ten minutes as they cooked and cooled, time she used to make herself a scrambled egg. It's funny, because she was so quiet and shy when we first moved in, but now, no question, she's the apartmentmate I talk to most, and with the most ease. It probably turned out that way because she had friends over for dinner one Sunday night back around October, and when I came downstairs for a minute--to get a glass of milk, maybe?--she invited me to try some of the food she'd made, and before I knew it, the four of us had been talking for something like three-and-a-half hours. It was crazy. We did it again, this time at one of her friends' houses (I don't know how to spell her name; something like Chiun), the Sunday before Thanksgiving. Not that we were all equally loud--Chiun and I were the loudest and most talkative ones both times, I think--but it was very nice.
I think the new apartmentmate (Polly, if I haven't mentioned, decided to move into the city, where it's cheaper and she's nearer her friends) moves in tomorrow, actually. All I know about the new girl is that her name is Jessica and she's American. Should be interesting.
I should probably go back to bed; it's later than my timestamp says it is, as almost-always. Lots of cooking tomorrow! Yay! And I should clean things up then, too, before various Ninth Hour (of course!) people come for dinner.
-Laurel
12.10.2007
(still awake)
On the other hand, the people in my life are amazing.
I suppose I did just write a whole creative-nonfiction project on how people don't find happiness through achievement.
From my social-psychology textbook from sophomore year: "The things that make for genuinely good life--close, supportive relationships, a hope-filled faith community, positive traits, engaging activity--are enduringly sustainable."
The first two I have already; the second two will come back soon.
-Laurel
I suppose I did just write a whole creative-nonfiction project on how people don't find happiness through achievement.
From my social-psychology textbook from sophomore year: "The things that make for genuinely good life--close, supportive relationships, a hope-filled faith community, positive traits, engaging activity--are enduringly sustainable."
The first two I have already; the second two will come back soon.
-Laurel
::very concerned look::
Creative nonfiction: the party was fine, but the piece...who knows. It's not that good, but she's grading on improvement; hopefully I've shown some. Everything took longer than I expected, I was really late because I had to go get an envelope for my piece, and my cheese bread (we all had to make food for the party) didn't turn out very well. It's been a long day.
Theory: I have to write at least ten pages by three o'clock tomorrow, and clearly, because that's how I've arranged this thing, I don't have any of them written yet. And now Jose says that Dr. Keith seems to be forgetting that it's only ten instead of fifteen and I have to remind him of what his syllabus says and hope he doesn't still believe he changed it to fifteen. Which he didn't. And I'm not going to get fifteen pages out of my mediocre topic, particularly not when I have only nineteen hours to do even the ten pages. But for the mercy of God, the paper's going to be awful. I suck as a graduate, seriously; it's like I'm a college freshman or something. At least it will all be over by three tomorrow.
Right now, I'm taking a nap. No, I didn't waste a lot of time on this entry; it's literally only been five minutes.
-Laurel
Theory: I have to write at least ten pages by three o'clock tomorrow, and clearly, because that's how I've arranged this thing, I don't have any of them written yet. And now Jose says that Dr. Keith seems to be forgetting that it's only ten instead of fifteen and I have to remind him of what his syllabus says and hope he doesn't still believe he changed it to fifteen. Which he didn't. And I'm not going to get fifteen pages out of my mediocre topic, particularly not when I have only nineteen hours to do even the ten pages. But for the mercy of God, the paper's going to be awful. I suck as a graduate, seriously; it's like I'm a college freshman or something. At least it will all be over by three tomorrow.
Right now, I'm taking a nap. No, I didn't waste a lot of time on this entry; it's literally only been five minutes.
-Laurel
12.08.2007
Five-Sentence Update
-I still adore Adam Gopnik's essay "Bumping Into Mr. Ravioli," which I reread over dinner. The ending, however, still drives me crazy.
-The CN project is only partly about SFE anymore; I hope Dr. Heywood doesn't mind that it's not very environmentally-oriented even though she was really hoping it'd go in that direction.
-I can't wait for Tuesday afternoon to come and all of this to be over.
-I am really good at procrasinating.
-Laurel
-The CN project is only partly about SFE anymore; I hope Dr. Heywood doesn't mind that it's not very environmentally-oriented even though she was really hoping it'd go in that direction.
-I can't wait for Tuesday afternoon to come and all of this to be over.
-I am really good at procrasinating.
-Laurel
Christina says I update this a lot. She's pretty much right.
Tonight was great.
After opening large group with Christmas carols (with Boaz on violin and Anthony on flute, no less!), we had a testimonial night, so basically we were asked to share how God had worked in our lives this semester. Lots of people got really personal. I mostly didn't, but I did make a silly fool of myself, trying to explain, but doing it very roundabout-ly, how and why I was so thankful for everybody. (Lesson learned, given how all of us fumbled through it: we white kids have no idea how to talk about our admiration for Asian Christian culture without sounding vaguely like we're making ethnic jokes. Well, Matt did better than most of us, but still. I really hope no one was offended.) "Was my testimony ridiculous?" I asked Jon later. "How," he protested, "can you be ridiculous when you're talking about the works of God and God is so awesome?" This is a thought-provokingly fair point, and makes me ashamed to admit that I still care whether or not I sounded ridiculous.
We had the secret-Santa exchange. To my relief, Colin was excited about the Mets calendar I gave him (I hardly know him at all and had resorted to scanning his Facebook profile for inspiration), and I got a cute, very soft plushy snowman from Karen.
Then, after the guys'-small-group sandwich sale (proceeds to children's education in Belize; I hadn't yet had any dinner, so it was my pleasure to support the effort!), a bunch of us went out for bubble tea and talked and laughed and generally had a good time.
I'm somewhat behind on my creative-nonfiction project, of course, in the sense that I was hoping to be 50% done by tonight's end so's to lessen my workload per day, but I'm only at 30% and will have to pick up the slack tomorrow. I do think I mostly know what I'm doing, though. Mostly.
Anyway, in summary: I love InterVarsity. Any InterVarsity. I owe both chapters more than I can repay.
It's time for me to try to get some sleep. Lots to do tomorrow.
-Laurel
After opening large group with Christmas carols (with Boaz on violin and Anthony on flute, no less!), we had a testimonial night, so basically we were asked to share how God had worked in our lives this semester. Lots of people got really personal. I mostly didn't, but I did make a silly fool of myself, trying to explain, but doing it very roundabout-ly, how and why I was so thankful for everybody. (Lesson learned, given how all of us fumbled through it: we white kids have no idea how to talk about our admiration for Asian Christian culture without sounding vaguely like we're making ethnic jokes. Well, Matt did better than most of us, but still. I really hope no one was offended.) "Was my testimony ridiculous?" I asked Jon later. "How," he protested, "can you be ridiculous when you're talking about the works of God and God is so awesome?" This is a thought-provokingly fair point, and makes me ashamed to admit that I still care whether or not I sounded ridiculous.
We had the secret-Santa exchange. To my relief, Colin was excited about the Mets calendar I gave him (I hardly know him at all and had resorted to scanning his Facebook profile for inspiration), and I got a cute, very soft plushy snowman from Karen.
Then, after the guys'-small-group sandwich sale (proceeds to children's education in Belize; I hadn't yet had any dinner, so it was my pleasure to support the effort!), a bunch of us went out for bubble tea and talked and laughed and generally had a good time.
I'm somewhat behind on my creative-nonfiction project, of course, in the sense that I was hoping to be 50% done by tonight's end so's to lessen my workload per day, but I'm only at 30% and will have to pick up the slack tomorrow. I do think I mostly know what I'm doing, though. Mostly.
Anyway, in summary: I love InterVarsity. Any InterVarsity. I owe both chapters more than I can repay.
It's time for me to try to get some sleep. Lots to do tomorrow.
-Laurel
12.07.2007
Status Report
Things to do by 5ish PM tonight:
-Go out and get the secret-Santa present for IV. And wrap it. And, while I'm at it, get the other things I'll need for the rest of this weekend, like the envelope and folder for the creative-nonfiction project.
Things to do by 3:30 PM on Monday:
-Revamp said creative-nonfiction project. Somehow. It's not like I haven't been working on this (though I haven't been working as diligently as I should have been), but so far the research has not gone as well as I'd hoped. My trips to both libraries yesterday, school and public, were fruitless: the city's public library didn't have any good books and didn't even accept my library card (it's sort of a long story); the campus library supposedly has a good book, but it's not on the shelf where it's supposed to be. So even if I put out a search on it, it might take two days to find it, and then I'd have to read it. At least some of it.
-Compile final list (though the research for this is done, thank heavens) of literary journals to which I would submit my project if I didn't dislike it so much.
-Choose two-page scene from my project to read out to the class at Dr. Heywood's party on Monday afternoon. She decided that it was not enough for us to have 20-40 pages and a submission list due; we also have to make food and bring it to her house so we can have a party and a short-performance session. I'm sure that, on Monday at 3:30, I'll be happy about this, but for this moment, I'm mostly finding it a hassle.
-Make cheese bread for said party; it's not the most convenient thing ever, but at least I can do other things while the dough rises, and anyway, I was out of other easily-transportable ideas. And I suppose I'm a sucker for people admiring my bread.
To do by 3:00 PM on Tuesday:
-Write the 10-page theory-class paper. Talk about your frustrating research. Basically, I have to decide a) how to set up a convincing argument that my panopticist reading of The Giver hasn't already been thoroughly done (though I think I've figured out how to do this), and b) whether I can make the argument that Gathering Blue is also semi-panoptic despite the lack of constant outer surveillance, and if not, whether I can fit it into my paper at all.
In short, I have a lot to do, and probably shouldn't be doing a bunch of IV stuff all tonight, but probably will anyway, and then simply work like sixty for the rest of the weekend and be nervous and sleep-deprived. On the other hand, as hinted, it will all be done by Tuesday afternoon. Victory shall indeed be mine!
-Laurel
-Go out and get the secret-Santa present for IV. And wrap it. And, while I'm at it, get the other things I'll need for the rest of this weekend, like the envelope and folder for the creative-nonfiction project.
Things to do by 3:30 PM on Monday:
-Revamp said creative-nonfiction project. Somehow. It's not like I haven't been working on this (though I haven't been working as diligently as I should have been), but so far the research has not gone as well as I'd hoped. My trips to both libraries yesterday, school and public, were fruitless: the city's public library didn't have any good books and didn't even accept my library card (it's sort of a long story); the campus library supposedly has a good book, but it's not on the shelf where it's supposed to be. So even if I put out a search on it, it might take two days to find it, and then I'd have to read it. At least some of it.
-Compile final list (though the research for this is done, thank heavens) of literary journals to which I would submit my project if I didn't dislike it so much.
-Choose two-page scene from my project to read out to the class at Dr. Heywood's party on Monday afternoon. She decided that it was not enough for us to have 20-40 pages and a submission list due; we also have to make food and bring it to her house so we can have a party and a short-performance session. I'm sure that, on Monday at 3:30, I'll be happy about this, but for this moment, I'm mostly finding it a hassle.
-Make cheese bread for said party; it's not the most convenient thing ever, but at least I can do other things while the dough rises, and anyway, I was out of other easily-transportable ideas. And I suppose I'm a sucker for people admiring my bread.
To do by 3:00 PM on Tuesday:
-Write the 10-page theory-class paper. Talk about your frustrating research. Basically, I have to decide a) how to set up a convincing argument that my panopticist reading of The Giver hasn't already been thoroughly done (though I think I've figured out how to do this), and b) whether I can make the argument that Gathering Blue is also semi-panoptic despite the lack of constant outer surveillance, and if not, whether I can fit it into my paper at all.
In short, I have a lot to do, and probably shouldn't be doing a bunch of IV stuff all tonight, but probably will anyway, and then simply work like sixty for the rest of the weekend and be nervous and sleep-deprived. On the other hand, as hinted, it will all be done by Tuesday afternoon. Victory shall indeed be mine!
-Laurel
12.02.2007
Momentary victory is mine!
Have gotten all my homework done except for putting down final comments on Matt B.'s creative-nonfiction draft, though I read and marked it, not to mention enjoyed it. This I can do during my free hour between classes on Monday. And, well, I guess I only skimmed the last third of Rey Chow, but I know what she said, anyway, and I can read it through more fully later if I really feel obligated to.
The three for this week were easily the most enjoyable creative-nonfiction drafts I've read all semester. Which is no knock on how well-written the Sarahs' and Jose's were, in particular, but "enjoy" is the wrong word for theirs (though I did enjoy Jose's sterling talent for description) because their topics were so serious. Matt B., on the other hand, wrote about photographing train graffiti, in which I didn't expect to find myself interested, but he actually made it quite engaging; Kevin wrote about his love for his family's land; and Laura (not the side-columned Laura, but another, with whom I'm also friends, just a little bit less closely so) wrote about food symbolizing love. As for this last, oh my gosh. I defy anyone old enough to appreciate her piece (which is to say, if you're young enough to still think Chef Boyardee the pinnacle of Italian cuisine, then give it a few more years) to read her draft, read her meal descriptions, and not sigh at least once in mingled longing and delight.
So Monday morning is going to have to involve research for my own creative-non revamp and my theory paper, but tomorrow is mine for resting and church and cooking--my last day of freedom until the 10th, or maybe the 12th, depending on when Dr. Keith makes his paper really-truly due (I'm not naive or scrupulous enough, unfortunately, to think that this Sunday-rest thing isn't going to be cheated on come the 9th). My phone will be on from 2ish pm until bedtime; call me if you'd like to talk.
-Laurel
The three for this week were easily the most enjoyable creative-nonfiction drafts I've read all semester. Which is no knock on how well-written the Sarahs' and Jose's were, in particular, but "enjoy" is the wrong word for theirs (though I did enjoy Jose's sterling talent for description) because their topics were so serious. Matt B., on the other hand, wrote about photographing train graffiti, in which I didn't expect to find myself interested, but he actually made it quite engaging; Kevin wrote about his love for his family's land; and Laura (not the side-columned Laura, but another, with whom I'm also friends, just a little bit less closely so) wrote about food symbolizing love. As for this last, oh my gosh. I defy anyone old enough to appreciate her piece (which is to say, if you're young enough to still think Chef Boyardee the pinnacle of Italian cuisine, then give it a few more years) to read her draft, read her meal descriptions, and not sigh at least once in mingled longing and delight.
So Monday morning is going to have to involve research for my own creative-non revamp and my theory paper, but tomorrow is mine for resting and church and cooking--my last day of freedom until the 10th, or maybe the 12th, depending on when Dr. Keith makes his paper really-truly due (I'm not naive or scrupulous enough, unfortunately, to think that this Sunday-rest thing isn't going to be cheated on come the 9th). My phone will be on from 2ish pm until bedtime; call me if you'd like to talk.
-Laurel
12.01.2007
Eight Thoughts Just Before Bed
1) Seriously, the next time Greg Jao(!!!) comes to speak at InterVarsity, I'm bringing paper and pen so I can write things down when the lightbulb comes on over my head.
2) Currently slogging for Diaspora through Rey Chow, who's warning us all about the potential dangers of "naming" others, and even though it's not quite the same, all I can think of is, well, dude. Don't tell Meg Murry.
3) Speaking of, there are a lot of books I want to read over the break. One of them is The Phantom Tollbooth, since--okay, confession time: I first read A Wrinkle in Time because it had shown up in a Baby-Sitters Club book. And look where that implicit recommendation got me, so I'm heeding another and reading Tollbooth. Sometime.
4) Part of me is almost certain, somewhere inside, that my mother's going to get me Dave Barry's History of the Millenium (So Far) for Christmas. Which is cool, seriously, but if I do, then let me just say, called it.
5) What on earth--this is sort of a perpetual question--am I going to get my brother for Christmas? To be honest, part of me wants to just buy him a big summer sausage, since he always claimed the mini ones out of the gift baskets that Aunt Lisa and Uncle Paul sent us a few years running. Heck, I could do a lot worse. But I feel like I should maybe do something else.
6) The only thing I actually want for Christmas, as of this writing, is DangerMouse on DVD, now that more of the series than just a few episodes here and there have finally been released to visual media. In fact, the entire series is now on DVD, which is pretty exciting. Not that I wouldn't also enjoy a Dave Barry book, as aforementioned.
7) I really want to just take this whole weekend, but especially Sunday, and cook things. One considerable advantage of this would be that I could refrigerate/freeze things and then heat them up when I get back lateish from class on Monday and Tuesday. (Dang, but I sound middle-aged and working-parently, talking about quick dinners on weeknights.) The problem is, I have too much else to do this weekend.
8) It is really hard not to get cliquey and over-affectionate about Ninth Hour. They're just so warm and wonderful. But we are in for change: Christina's going to be in Kenya next semester, and it's looking (whoa, boy) like Thomas and I are going to end up running it together in her absence (since Sunroot got stolen away by IV-B's e-board to run small groups). This should be, if nothing else (though I think it'll be more than this), an excellent way to discover what-all goes into being a servant leader, instead of the annoyed and annoying figure I was while running APO's service program. But no, I really think it'll be fine, as long as I can get out of my own way when necessary.
-Laurel
2) Currently slogging for Diaspora through Rey Chow, who's warning us all about the potential dangers of "naming" others, and even though it's not quite the same, all I can think of is, well, dude. Don't tell Meg Murry.
3) Speaking of, there are a lot of books I want to read over the break. One of them is The Phantom Tollbooth, since--okay, confession time: I first read A Wrinkle in Time because it had shown up in a Baby-Sitters Club book. And look where that implicit recommendation got me, so I'm heeding another and reading Tollbooth. Sometime.
4) Part of me is almost certain, somewhere inside, that my mother's going to get me Dave Barry's History of the Millenium (So Far) for Christmas. Which is cool, seriously, but if I do, then let me just say, called it.
5) What on earth--this is sort of a perpetual question--am I going to get my brother for Christmas? To be honest, part of me wants to just buy him a big summer sausage, since he always claimed the mini ones out of the gift baskets that Aunt Lisa and Uncle Paul sent us a few years running. Heck, I could do a lot worse. But I feel like I should maybe do something else.
6) The only thing I actually want for Christmas, as of this writing, is DangerMouse on DVD, now that more of the series than just a few episodes here and there have finally been released to visual media. In fact, the entire series is now on DVD, which is pretty exciting. Not that I wouldn't also enjoy a Dave Barry book, as aforementioned.
7) I really want to just take this whole weekend, but especially Sunday, and cook things. One considerable advantage of this would be that I could refrigerate/freeze things and then heat them up when I get back lateish from class on Monday and Tuesday. (Dang, but I sound middle-aged and working-parently, talking about quick dinners on weeknights.) The problem is, I have too much else to do this weekend.
8) It is really hard not to get cliquey and over-affectionate about Ninth Hour. They're just so warm and wonderful. But we are in for change: Christina's going to be in Kenya next semester, and it's looking (whoa, boy) like Thomas and I are going to end up running it together in her absence (since Sunroot got stolen away by IV-B's e-board to run small groups). This should be, if nothing else (though I think it'll be more than this), an excellent way to discover what-all goes into being a servant leader, instead of the annoyed and annoying figure I was while running APO's service program. But no, I really think it'll be fine, as long as I can get out of my own way when necessary.
-Laurel