Well, my world is interesting again (that was quick), and, as usual, it's Aubrey providing the excitement--positive this time, however. Just called me. I've not heard from him since the summer began, and had wondered whether he'd read all our blogs and decided we hated him or something...which, at times, truth be told, wouldn'tve been too far off the mark. I recognized his voice right away--and was sort of surprised to hear how excited my "Hi!" was.
He's moved...with his grandmother and brother now, out of our immediate town, and even out of our school district. He lost his address book for a while in the middle of it, I guess, and has only found it recently. He's thrilled with the idea of college--all his tuition is paid; he just has to scrape together the money for books--and has had a great summer. He told me about all the Whose Line he'd been watching, and actually recommended a book to me. He sounded good, which I kind of expected.
He also said some things I never expected to hear--the first being an apology of sorts for all the stuff he wrote in creative writing (much of it was angst over his breakup with Daffy--and Daf was in the class at the time): "...I feel bad about that now...I feel sorry for the class, having to hear all that, and I put too much of that into my work--the whole breakup thing. I just look back now and think, Oh, jeez...but I got it all out. I'm really okay now." This led to the second: "I really am happy for [Daf's current boyfriend]. How is he?"
I told him, wondering how he'd take it, that they were completely moony over each other...and he laughed, and it wasn't sadly, and yet it wasn't derisively, nor yet stiffly. It seemed to me exactly the kind of laugh such a statement would have gotten out of anyone who knows Daf and "Calypso", and he knows them both. Knowing them both myself, it's the kind of laugh I'dve given if how sappy they are didn't remind me so much of Aubrey doing the same from ninth grade to this February.
He doesn't have a computer where he is, so your e-mail to him has plenty of revision time, Zinni. He says, however, that college internet is free. I laughed at that. "Just don't spend all your time on it!"
...He, naturally, subsided into mumbling. But I, temporarily brain-frozen, didn't get it. "Aubrey, you're supposed to laugh. It was a joke." ...See, 'cause he was always online for hours on end.
"Well, you know, that thing at school...it's still sort of weird." --That is, his suspension for computer violations. Ri-i-i-ight, that thing we got so mad at him for. That little series of lies, never truly resolved, that preyed on my mind for two months after the fact and mocked my months of worry and desperate activism as though it had a voice.
...Had forgotten that. And it was thinking about that that I remembered my dreams. Reconciliation...what I'd wanted, but didn't dare to give (where do you draw the line between forgiveness and asking to be taken advantage of?). I realized I'd given it when I grabbed the phone with both hands as I held it against my ear...realizing that, much to my surprise, I missed him. You know what it was like? It was like eighth grade, when I first knew him, when we'd sit on the bus with Zinni, and the three of us would have joke marathons, breathless with laughing and me fighting back hiccups. No knowledge then of his hardship, hardly a thought spared for what Daf thought of him...just three friends. How strange it is to think of him as somewhat of a normal friend...and to trust him, more or less, to take care of himself.
Lest my friends read this with heads slightly shaking, remembering other conversations with him that left me thinking everything was finally going to be well: don't worry about me. Forgiven doesn't mean forgotten. I know we had the problems, and I imagine there's plenty that he isn't telling me...his glossed-over accounts of his current disagreements with his grandmother, for example. I'm not naive enough now to think that it's as smooth as he makes it out to be...nor yet that the difficulty is all her fault. Part of his eagerness to get to college may well be a wanting to get out of the house before he's turned out. There were things he said that made me wonder.
And the awkward part was his comment that he didn't want to call Ananda (I suggested it; he's wondering if his bike is over there by any chance) because he thought maybe she and Daf were still furious with him. And well they might be, even 'Nanda, though certainly Daf. "I'm glad we stayed friends," he said, meaning me, and I only said, "Yeah." 'Cause right now I'm okay with that, but since February it's been pretty rocky. We had a longish, quietish talk on my birthday, after the Envirothon, both at the window of the science office, about what had gone on those last couple of months, and that was more temporary a truce than I'd planned--I thought, after that, that maybe everything would be okay. Afraid as I am of short-changing Aubrey, I can't help but wonder if this is the same kind of thing--just like I used to do with Bryan--sliding back into my hopes, upon talking, instead of seeing that it's still hopeless.
It's part hope, though part really believing this time that he's pretty much for real, that leads me to make up with him again.
To quote Two Towers, "I cannot tell how it will fall out, well or ill for us." ...But can you blame me for trying? He really did seem for real this time. I didn't suspect anything when I talked to him. He sounds genuinely happy with his summer, genuinely excited about college, and genuinely contrite about the past.
Sensible enough, right?
-Laurel
7.30.2002
Glarf. Do not know what is wrong with me. Do not want to read. Do not want to imagine. Do not even want to watch M*A*S*H, though it's one I've never seen. Have no idea what I want to do.
...Will probably watch M*A*S*H anyway while I think about it.
...Guys, do you really think Powerful Play is worth it?
-Laurel
...Will probably watch M*A*S*H anyway while I think about it.
...Guys, do you really think Powerful Play is worth it?
-Laurel
7.29.2002
Went to my aunt and uncle's church yesterday, an Episcopal-Presbyterian hybrid led by a female priest with cerebral palsy. It was very small and very friendly. I was very impressed with the priest. It was a little hard to understand her, only a little, but her sermon was totally relevant to what was going on in their church...and in all churches everywhere...and it was clearly connected to the text...and it was finished on time.
And the people higher up in the hierarchy are going to replace her--she's only an interim priest--because she's disabled. They say it isn't fair to the congregation (not that any of them do anything but like her).
I liked her very much. Megan's church doesn't approve of females of the cloth, but my church has two, and I think I go my church's way on that question. I think their priest should stay, in any case. She's very intelligent. She's got a doctorate. She knows what she's talking about. What do they want?
::shrug:: Whatever.
Wish I had something profound to say, but mine was not a profound day. But definitely recommend Death Be Not Proud. Not that I remember the author.
-Laurel
And the people higher up in the hierarchy are going to replace her--she's only an interim priest--because she's disabled. They say it isn't fair to the congregation (not that any of them do anything but like her).
I liked her very much. Megan's church doesn't approve of females of the cloth, but my church has two, and I think I go my church's way on that question. I think their priest should stay, in any case. She's very intelligent. She's got a doctorate. She knows what she's talking about. What do they want?
::shrug:: Whatever.
Wish I had something profound to say, but mine was not a profound day. But definitely recommend Death Be Not Proud. Not that I remember the author.
-Laurel
7.28.2002
Well, six months of M*A*S*H viewing, and I find out last night that my cousin, who has just joined the Army, will spend a year in Korea for hardship training starting about December.
...And what am I thinking? Wow, I hope they let him wear lots of warm clothes. It's cold over there in the wintertime! ...This based only on watching M*A*S*H, thinking of Hawkeye and B.J. sitting in the Swamp (their tent) and shivering like heck in that one episode about Charles's polar suit.
But, hey, the show has been praised for its (atmospherical) realism (never mind the anachronisms, character contradictions, etc.)...
-Laurel
...And what am I thinking? Wow, I hope they let him wear lots of warm clothes. It's cold over there in the wintertime! ...This based only on watching M*A*S*H, thinking of Hawkeye and B.J. sitting in the Swamp (their tent) and shivering like heck in that one episode about Charles's polar suit.
But, hey, the show has been praised for its (atmospherical) realism (never mind the anachronisms, character contradictions, etc.)...
-Laurel
7.26.2002
Scratch that last. Will not miss my brother, assuming he ends up going to the lake after all. Has been a jerk all day and night, acting, even more than usual, like I'm an offense just glancing at him. ...He's just asked me why I always have to be down here in the basement when he is, despite the fact that I'm across the room, not speaking to him, listening to my music with headphones on. I'll try not to breathe his air.
Anyway, just came from a big happy dinner. Went with some friends of my family's to this Greek restaurant downtown, and it's lovely. Oh, gosh, bazuki music (never mind that I'm probably spelling it wrong), complete with guy occasionally yelling "Opah!" (traditional exclamation of joy); Greek decor, Greek food, which I honestly have had only once, maybe...it was great. Guided by Manny, who's Greek all the way back, far as I know, and can speak the language fluently, my family (which is British Isles all the way back) tried all sorts of stuff. Fried cheese (which I didn't like for the alcohol on it--yech, tastes like the cruddy beer dip one of my aunts makes), octopus (which was strongish, but which was pretty good), stuffed grape leaves (which was sort of olive-ish, but also good), and Greek pitas (lovely). With everyone's dinner also came Greek salad (very good) and garlic bread (not much out of the common way, but I love it anywhere). Souvlaki, which I picked for my actual dinner, is actually, as I found, basically shish kebab with twice the meat and half the vegetables--which was great, 'cause I don't like fried peppers or onions anyway. With that came lemon potatoes with cucumber-dill dip stuff, and some other random vegetables that my mom ate. Dessert was one forkful of my dad's baklava, which was all pastry, honey, and nuttiness.
The only thing not Greek (besides me!) was my drink-- the adults were having things that I guess were vaguely Greek, but my brother and I went with Shirley Temples. I was sort of tempted to order it like Radar did in one M*A*S*H episode--"Shirley Temple, extra dry"--but the waiter didn't look so much like a M*A*S*H fan, so I let it be.
I kept getting "Private Charles Lamb" flashes while we were there, though, of the last scene with the party. The music was so much like that, and how hypnotic the bazuki players' fingers always are...Radar, of course, would not have approved of the lamb in my souvlaki...hm, or maybe he would've; in another episode, oddly enough, he turns down a date with a girl in order to get a hold of a roasted lamb and mint jelly (which, of course, shows up on "Nitpicker's Guide", this site that points out all the mistakes and anachronisms in the show)...
Have one question: How did the Greeks of old manage to be so profound, with such food and music to distract them? I tried it myself and got nowhere.
Oh, well, no matter. I've a new favorite restaurant, anyway, and our families are already talking about doing a Mediterranean cruise in five years. They may have been joking, or only pipe dreaming...but somehow I'm not so sure. My parents never wanted to come back from the last one. I mean, it's five years, so it's too early yet to really consider, but...that'd be so cool.
In the meantime, opah!
-Laurel
Anyway, just came from a big happy dinner. Went with some friends of my family's to this Greek restaurant downtown, and it's lovely. Oh, gosh, bazuki music (never mind that I'm probably spelling it wrong), complete with guy occasionally yelling "Opah!" (traditional exclamation of joy); Greek decor, Greek food, which I honestly have had only once, maybe...it was great. Guided by Manny, who's Greek all the way back, far as I know, and can speak the language fluently, my family (which is British Isles all the way back) tried all sorts of stuff. Fried cheese (which I didn't like for the alcohol on it--yech, tastes like the cruddy beer dip one of my aunts makes), octopus (which was strongish, but which was pretty good), stuffed grape leaves (which was sort of olive-ish, but also good), and Greek pitas (lovely). With everyone's dinner also came Greek salad (very good) and garlic bread (not much out of the common way, but I love it anywhere). Souvlaki, which I picked for my actual dinner, is actually, as I found, basically shish kebab with twice the meat and half the vegetables--which was great, 'cause I don't like fried peppers or onions anyway. With that came lemon potatoes with cucumber-dill dip stuff, and some other random vegetables that my mom ate. Dessert was one forkful of my dad's baklava, which was all pastry, honey, and nuttiness.
The only thing not Greek (besides me!) was my drink-- the adults were having things that I guess were vaguely Greek, but my brother and I went with Shirley Temples. I was sort of tempted to order it like Radar did in one M*A*S*H episode--"Shirley Temple, extra dry"--but the waiter didn't look so much like a M*A*S*H fan, so I let it be.
I kept getting "Private Charles Lamb" flashes while we were there, though, of the last scene with the party. The music was so much like that, and how hypnotic the bazuki players' fingers always are...Radar, of course, would not have approved of the lamb in my souvlaki...hm, or maybe he would've; in another episode, oddly enough, he turns down a date with a girl in order to get a hold of a roasted lamb and mint jelly (which, of course, shows up on "Nitpicker's Guide", this site that points out all the mistakes and anachronisms in the show)...
Have one question: How did the Greeks of old manage to be so profound, with such food and music to distract them? I tried it myself and got nowhere.
Oh, well, no matter. I've a new favorite restaurant, anyway, and our families are already talking about doing a Mediterranean cruise in five years. They may have been joking, or only pipe dreaming...but somehow I'm not so sure. My parents never wanted to come back from the last one. I mean, it's five years, so it's too early yet to really consider, but...that'd be so cool.
In the meantime, opah!
-Laurel
7.25.2002
Even my subconscious rises up against me. I've been having dreams about Aubrey and Bryan, all of them bizarre...a few now about Aubrey, really, and in all of them, we've made some sort of peace. Which is weird, because I'm never sure anymore what to think of him, and whether forgiving should necessarily mean forgetting. I guess with all of us, there's something he's said to us that sort of haunts us. With Daf, it's "Welcome to Friendship 101"; with me, it's "You're gonna come visit me, right, Laur?". I made some excuse then about not having a license, but that's the thing...of all of us (save maybe Zinni), if any of us ever make a peace like that, it will be me...and I keep thinking that he should have someone to write to when he misses home (well, what he now calls home)...and that if I don't, he'll take it as something it's not. But then, he'll take a letter as something it's not. ::resigned shrug:: I learned long ago with Aubrey that I'm pretty much nailed either way.
As for Bryan, that dream was last night (hm, why does "Desert Rose" have such a tendency to be playing on my mp3 player when I'm writing about dreams?)--Ananda and I had gone to a restaurant (which is weird, considering she went to a cafe with Blake tonight), and while we waited in line--or else we were at a table, I don't know which--I saw Bryan and his family eating there. And suddenly all I wanted to do was run. I think I even did.
And that, like the peace-making, is in direct opposition to what I wanted. I wanted to remember him as funny and sweet, and not the boy who, in a sense, disowned me on the last day of school in the middle of my telling him how nice he'd always been to me. For three of our four years' acquaintence, he was the former. But all I can remember is the latter.
In ninth and tenth grade, I used to call him, mentally, "adorable boy", making up two-lined scraps of verse...they always started Adorable boy, with smile so sweet... I used to paste my eyes to the back of his head...in those years, that was all I ever saw of him. Then, to my shock, at the end of that year, he started talking to me again, almost flirting...he'd come up and punch me in the shoulder, grin at me, and turn back to his own business...once I even did it to him...and this year, when he liked me, sat by me, yanked at my hair, tickled me at the waist, invited me bowling, invited me to his house...it was like a dream, and I never knew why he would ever like me, but I didn't care...
...And now I think of him and feel nothing. I think of bowling with him and feel nothing. I think of him now, going to college with his beloved Amanda, and feel nothing. Well, in all of this, almost nothing. The slightest of weights, really, in the middle of my chest. That's all I feel. Emotionally, though, there's no anger or real sorrow. Just...numb. Numb to the last three years. What did his smiles ever mean?
Enough. I'm sorry. This isn't anyone's problem but mine. And I don't even feel anything now. Just...I wanted to run. I didn't want to see him, even in my dreams.
Adorable boy, with smile so sweet,
I hope you got what you wanted.
-Laurel
As for Bryan, that dream was last night (hm, why does "Desert Rose" have such a tendency to be playing on my mp3 player when I'm writing about dreams?)--Ananda and I had gone to a restaurant (which is weird, considering she went to a cafe with Blake tonight), and while we waited in line--or else we were at a table, I don't know which--I saw Bryan and his family eating there. And suddenly all I wanted to do was run. I think I even did.
And that, like the peace-making, is in direct opposition to what I wanted. I wanted to remember him as funny and sweet, and not the boy who, in a sense, disowned me on the last day of school in the middle of my telling him how nice he'd always been to me. For three of our four years' acquaintence, he was the former. But all I can remember is the latter.
In ninth and tenth grade, I used to call him, mentally, "adorable boy", making up two-lined scraps of verse...they always started Adorable boy, with smile so sweet... I used to paste my eyes to the back of his head...in those years, that was all I ever saw of him. Then, to my shock, at the end of that year, he started talking to me again, almost flirting...he'd come up and punch me in the shoulder, grin at me, and turn back to his own business...once I even did it to him...and this year, when he liked me, sat by me, yanked at my hair, tickled me at the waist, invited me bowling, invited me to his house...it was like a dream, and I never knew why he would ever like me, but I didn't care...
...And now I think of him and feel nothing. I think of bowling with him and feel nothing. I think of him now, going to college with his beloved Amanda, and feel nothing. Well, in all of this, almost nothing. The slightest of weights, really, in the middle of my chest. That's all I feel. Emotionally, though, there's no anger or real sorrow. Just...numb. Numb to the last three years. What did his smiles ever mean?
Enough. I'm sorry. This isn't anyone's problem but mine. And I don't even feel anything now. Just...I wanted to run. I didn't want to see him, even in my dreams.
Adorable boy, with smile so sweet,
I hope you got what you wanted.
-Laurel
7.23.2002
7.22.2002
Hurrah, psychological-type quizzes! Both from the same site, questionable on reliability, but here they are...really did just find them, by the way, didn't go looking for them...
Love Test 1:
1. You are attracted to those who are warm and obedience. [Somewhat true.]
2. In the process of courtship, the approach that would make you
feel irresistable is patience, never give up on you. [Yes, definitely, 'cause I've never had a boyfriend and have no idea how to go about love.]
3. The impression you would like to give to your lover is stylish. [Ahhh, not really.]
4. You don't like it when your partner is emotional and/or too
moody; and you don't know how to please him/her. [Holy cow. Yes. This was my problem with Bryan all over--I pick "too moody" for the former.]
5. The kind of relationship you would like to build with your
partner is one which make you feel warmth and in-love always. [Well, in a way. I want a soulmate--how female--but "in love always" has been challenged a lot since C.S. Lewis's books.]
6. You care about the society and morality, you won't do anything
wrong after marriage. [::wry smile:: Yeah, I imagine that's me.]
7. You think of marriage as a precious thing. Once you get married,
you'll treasure it and your partner very much. [Yes.]
8. At this moment, you are quite self-centered; you think of love as
something you can get and trash anytime you want. [Ah, no, quite the opposite; I'd be happy to get love, period, and wouldn't go treating it lightly.]
Love Test 2:
--Take this first, if you plan to, before reading my results; it'll spoil yours otherwise.--
1. The road represents your attitude towards falling in love.
You chose the long road--you take your time and do not fall in
love easily. [For the most part, true.]
2. The number of red roses represents how much you give in a
relationship, while the number of white represents what you
expect in return.
You give 75% and expect 25% in return. [Well, I wouldn't know, but I don't quite think this is right.]
3. This question represents your attitude towards handling
relationship problems.
You asked the family member to get your significant other--you
like to avoid problems and hope that they will solve themselves. [Yeah. I'm not romantically confrontational. Bryan certainly taught me that.]
4. The placement of the roses determines how much you like to see
your boy/girlfriend.
You want to place the roses on the bed--you like to see him/her
a lot. [Well, I don't know--I'd want some space of my own.]
5. This represents your attitude towards his/her personality.
You prefer the person to be asleep--you love the person as the
way s/he is. [Ideally, yes. I tend to try to take people as they are--I know you can't change someone, most of the time.]
6. The road to home tells how long you stay in love with someone.
You chose the short road--you fall out of love easily. [Well, not exactly, but I'm a bit prone to giving up too quickly--convincing myself that it's not sensible to go after someone once they appear to have rejected me.]
There's a pig one on there, too, that's interesting before it gets silly.
...As you may have guessed, if you've not read Ananda's recent blog entry, Ananda and I have been a bit lovesick the past few days. Well, actually, I've decided that Ananda's more lovelorn, whereas I'm just lovesick. (Well, look on Dictionary.com, then.) See, Ananda's missing Blake; I have no specific interest, just a general endocrinal surge. ...Don't you just love taking warm, romantic things and turning them into cold, hard, logical terms? *g* Neither do I; I'm just being obnoxious. Was adapting Geordi's Next Generation explanation of love to Wesley...think the episode is called...ooh, dear, the Trekkies'll get me for this, 'cause I'm gonna screw it right up..."The Dryad"? "The Naiad"?...I don't know, it's the one where Wes falls in love with a shapeshifter girl, and it's cute. (Bethie and I, incidentally, have decided that her initial comment to Wesley is the funniest pickup line there is: [As she regards a machine that Wesley's holding] "Careful. That'll suck all the iron out of your bloodstream.")
...Hm, must e-mail Bethie and ask her when she wants to burn the Puritan house we made for English. ...Her idea, honest.
...Ahem. Yeah. Bedtime, Laur.
-Laurel
Love Test 1:
1. You are attracted to those who are warm and obedience. [Somewhat true.]
2. In the process of courtship, the approach that would make you
feel irresistable is patience, never give up on you. [Yes, definitely, 'cause I've never had a boyfriend and have no idea how to go about love.]
3. The impression you would like to give to your lover is stylish. [Ahhh, not really.]
4. You don't like it when your partner is emotional and/or too
moody; and you don't know how to please him/her. [Holy cow. Yes. This was my problem with Bryan all over--I pick "too moody" for the former.]
5. The kind of relationship you would like to build with your
partner is one which make you feel warmth and in-love always. [Well, in a way. I want a soulmate--how female--but "in love always" has been challenged a lot since C.S. Lewis's books.]
6. You care about the society and morality, you won't do anything
wrong after marriage. [::wry smile:: Yeah, I imagine that's me.]
7. You think of marriage as a precious thing. Once you get married,
you'll treasure it and your partner very much. [Yes.]
8. At this moment, you are quite self-centered; you think of love as
something you can get and trash anytime you want. [Ah, no, quite the opposite; I'd be happy to get love, period, and wouldn't go treating it lightly.]
Love Test 2:
--Take this first, if you plan to, before reading my results; it'll spoil yours otherwise.--
1. The road represents your attitude towards falling in love.
You chose the long road--you take your time and do not fall in
love easily. [For the most part, true.]
2. The number of red roses represents how much you give in a
relationship, while the number of white represents what you
expect in return.
You give 75% and expect 25% in return. [Well, I wouldn't know, but I don't quite think this is right.]
3. This question represents your attitude towards handling
relationship problems.
You asked the family member to get your significant other--you
like to avoid problems and hope that they will solve themselves. [Yeah. I'm not romantically confrontational. Bryan certainly taught me that.]
4. The placement of the roses determines how much you like to see
your boy/girlfriend.
You want to place the roses on the bed--you like to see him/her
a lot. [Well, I don't know--I'd want some space of my own.]
5. This represents your attitude towards his/her personality.
You prefer the person to be asleep--you love the person as the
way s/he is. [Ideally, yes. I tend to try to take people as they are--I know you can't change someone, most of the time.]
6. The road to home tells how long you stay in love with someone.
You chose the short road--you fall out of love easily. [Well, not exactly, but I'm a bit prone to giving up too quickly--convincing myself that it's not sensible to go after someone once they appear to have rejected me.]
There's a pig one on there, too, that's interesting before it gets silly.
...As you may have guessed, if you've not read Ananda's recent blog entry, Ananda and I have been a bit lovesick the past few days. Well, actually, I've decided that Ananda's more lovelorn, whereas I'm just lovesick. (Well, look on Dictionary.com, then.) See, Ananda's missing Blake; I have no specific interest, just a general endocrinal surge. ...Don't you just love taking warm, romantic things and turning them into cold, hard, logical terms? *g* Neither do I; I'm just being obnoxious. Was adapting Geordi's Next Generation explanation of love to Wesley...think the episode is called...ooh, dear, the Trekkies'll get me for this, 'cause I'm gonna screw it right up..."The Dryad"? "The Naiad"?...I don't know, it's the one where Wes falls in love with a shapeshifter girl, and it's cute. (Bethie and I, incidentally, have decided that her initial comment to Wesley is the funniest pickup line there is: [As she regards a machine that Wesley's holding] "Careful. That'll suck all the iron out of your bloodstream.")
...Hm, must e-mail Bethie and ask her when she wants to burn the Puritan house we made for English. ...Her idea, honest.
...Ahem. Yeah. Bedtime, Laur.
-Laurel
7.21.2002
Have solved the problem of the possibility of people being mad at me because I link to their pictures. At least for a while, the box to the right will be the latest cool quiz.
E-mail me, 'Nanda, if you didn't happen to get to church service today, because the guy who did it was from Japan, and really cool, and I was going to tell you about all the Japanese stuff I learned.
Work again tomorrow. And dermatologist appointment. Yech.
-Laurel
E-mail me, 'Nanda, if you didn't happen to get to church service today, because the guy who did it was from Japan, and really cool, and I was going to tell you about all the Japanese stuff I learned.
Work again tomorrow. And dermatologist appointment. Yech.
-Laurel
7.19.2002
Cruise ships are like big floating hotels. I don't know that I have much to say about the trip, really, at least not here in the middle of cyberspace. My friends will get more later.
My favorite souvenir, of the few I bought, was a blanket from Mexico--all red, green, and yellow, with a little bit of blue. It's bright and happy, and, as my dad points out, matches nothing in my mainly-purple room. But, frankly, he's the only one to care. I got it for six American dollars, and it reminds me of Mexico. My love for this blanket is illogical and permanent.
My worst moment, truth be told, was locking myself in the bathroom, which was very small--I was alone in the cabin, turned the lock, it wouldn't turn back...I'm claustrophobic, so this was bad. My mom came back in about thirty seconds, helped get me out, didn't see why I should panic so much, but I promise, half an hour later, my fingers were still like ice. That was the worst thing. Also unpleasant was a rainstorm at sea, which was rather nauseating (went for the Dramamine, promptly fell asleep...*g*), but being locked in that tiny room...you really don't have a grasp on any form of sense when that happens, or at least I don't. It seemed twice as small, and I started thinking all these wild thoughts...just...::shivers a bit::...I'm glad it's over, anyway. I don't remember much about the incident now. I remember mapping out a plan, long after I was out, of what I'dve done if I'd been traveling alone when such a thing happened...
::smiles wryly:: ...Will have to see the M*A*S*H episode "C*A*V*E"; have heard that it talks about Hawkeye being claustrophobic. Will be interesting.
...Actually, I first became claustrophobic from the very same type of thing: back in the first grade I got myself locked into a restaurant bathroom; ended up pounding on the door and screaming to attract attention, and I remember that I was on the verge of doing the same thing this time when Mom came in, only I'd had less hope because the cabin walls were so thick...
...Enough.
Also made a bit of a friend--or a bit of a hassle, as unkind as that sounds. Tagged along with a girl named Brittany whom I met there; she was good company, especially when I had nothing to do, but definitely not my kind of person. Dragged me round everywhere (she was a bit overbearing), practically, but considered me, from the start, a "very, very good friend", which made things rather difficult. Longish story, and I really do like her okay, but she got a bit annoying after a while. Luckily, we didn't see each other the last two days, when I would have been much less patient.
I don't know, I'm just not good at putting up with chick-ness, I guess (I don't consider you a chick, Lily, even if you do)--but I've always sort of supposed that I can't be a tomboy, either--I'm not good enough at sports, and not nearly as willing to watch them. *g*
The waiters were great--they all teased everybody, and we all teased them--they were from all these different countries. My parents are still imitating the stuff they said, even now that we're home.
My house is almost entirely low-fat at the moment...my parents are dismayed, I guess, at post-cruise effects...but I'm exactly the same weight. It's very odd. (But not at all negative.)
Cruise food is some of the best stuff in the world. You can try anything, and if you don't like it, you can get something else. Did not have escargot (though my brother did), but discovered that lobster tail is pretty good (sorry, Daf), and that roasted garlic soup is among the best-tasting stuff I know (and so is flourless chocolate cake). Discovered also that real Indian curry is ruddy hot, but much more edible than anything Mexican.
More at my whim and leisure, if I decide to post anything on the subject at all. Lalala.
-Laurel
My favorite souvenir, of the few I bought, was a blanket from Mexico--all red, green, and yellow, with a little bit of blue. It's bright and happy, and, as my dad points out, matches nothing in my mainly-purple room. But, frankly, he's the only one to care. I got it for six American dollars, and it reminds me of Mexico. My love for this blanket is illogical and permanent.
My worst moment, truth be told, was locking myself in the bathroom, which was very small--I was alone in the cabin, turned the lock, it wouldn't turn back...I'm claustrophobic, so this was bad. My mom came back in about thirty seconds, helped get me out, didn't see why I should panic so much, but I promise, half an hour later, my fingers were still like ice. That was the worst thing. Also unpleasant was a rainstorm at sea, which was rather nauseating (went for the Dramamine, promptly fell asleep...*g*), but being locked in that tiny room...you really don't have a grasp on any form of sense when that happens, or at least I don't. It seemed twice as small, and I started thinking all these wild thoughts...just...::shivers a bit::...I'm glad it's over, anyway. I don't remember much about the incident now. I remember mapping out a plan, long after I was out, of what I'dve done if I'd been traveling alone when such a thing happened...
::smiles wryly:: ...Will have to see the M*A*S*H episode "C*A*V*E"; have heard that it talks about Hawkeye being claustrophobic. Will be interesting.
...Actually, I first became claustrophobic from the very same type of thing: back in the first grade I got myself locked into a restaurant bathroom; ended up pounding on the door and screaming to attract attention, and I remember that I was on the verge of doing the same thing this time when Mom came in, only I'd had less hope because the cabin walls were so thick...
...Enough.
Also made a bit of a friend--or a bit of a hassle, as unkind as that sounds. Tagged along with a girl named Brittany whom I met there; she was good company, especially when I had nothing to do, but definitely not my kind of person. Dragged me round everywhere (she was a bit overbearing), practically, but considered me, from the start, a "very, very good friend", which made things rather difficult. Longish story, and I really do like her okay, but she got a bit annoying after a while. Luckily, we didn't see each other the last two days, when I would have been much less patient.
I don't know, I'm just not good at putting up with chick-ness, I guess (I don't consider you a chick, Lily, even if you do)--but I've always sort of supposed that I can't be a tomboy, either--I'm not good enough at sports, and not nearly as willing to watch them. *g*
The waiters were great--they all teased everybody, and we all teased them--they were from all these different countries. My parents are still imitating the stuff they said, even now that we're home.
My house is almost entirely low-fat at the moment...my parents are dismayed, I guess, at post-cruise effects...but I'm exactly the same weight. It's very odd. (But not at all negative.)
Cruise food is some of the best stuff in the world. You can try anything, and if you don't like it, you can get something else. Did not have escargot (though my brother did), but discovered that lobster tail is pretty good (sorry, Daf), and that roasted garlic soup is among the best-tasting stuff I know (and so is flourless chocolate cake). Discovered also that real Indian curry is ruddy hot, but much more edible than anything Mexican.
More at my whim and leisure, if I decide to post anything on the subject at all. Lalala.
-Laurel
Am back.
Will write tomorrow, I hope, but now I must sleep, as I've read all day on planes and in airports, read for hours on end, and am very tired. But will write afternoon-ish rather than morning, because if I have anything to do with it, I'm watching M*A*S*H for the first time tomorrow in six days.
Cruises rock. ::smile::
-Laurel
Will write tomorrow, I hope, but now I must sleep, as I've read all day on planes and in airports, read for hours on end, and am very tired. But will write afternoon-ish rather than morning, because if I have anything to do with it, I'm watching M*A*S*H for the first time tomorrow in six days.
Cruises rock. ::smile::
-Laurel
7.12.2002
Am hoping this entry will publish, as Blogger's been funny lately...
...I leave on vacation tomorrow. Hurrah! One day of it is in Mexico (we're seeing the Mayan ruins), and I'm hoping to be able to carry on some form of conversation with a local or two...must find cool souvenirs somewhere for Ananda, Daf, Zinni, Lily, and maybe Melinda/Bethie/Holly/Jen, too...
Was thinking about my hair as opposed to my friends'. See, with most of my friends, their hair has gotten progressively longer since I met them--Daf, Bethie, Sara, Melinda, and even old friends I don't know anymore, like Jenny and Kelly. Mine has gotten shorter. My parents first let me get it cut in the fifth grade--until then, it was halfway down my back, like Daf's is now--and ever since, it's gotten shorter in stages, from my original fifth-grade shoulder-length to my sixth-grade mid-neck bob to my eighth-grade disaster cut (higher bob, but my hair went puffball; I love psycho-wonderful Chuck from church dearly, but he is no longer allowed to style my hair) to my tenth-grade just-below-the-chin bob to now, my ultrashort (for me) Sarah Hughes cut. I mean, in between all the aforementioned, my hair grew out, usually to my shoulders or a little below, but still.
Anyway, that's random and meaningless.
Work has been infathomably boring. Today was especially bad because I'd forgotten my watch, and the only clocks in the rooms are the ones in the corners of the computers. See, I'm one of those people who compulsively looks at their watch a couple dozen times a day. It's not a matter of boredom, even, just so much as what time it is. So to me, this lack of clock display was cruel and unusual punishment--it made everything seem twice as long, and I kept having to squint at Linda's computer, because I don't have one of my own (I'm just a student helper). Ah, well, I'm home now, and off work through vacation.
Must pack sometime this afternoon, so Mom can't yell at me for not having done it beforehand. This means I should do it now, before M*A*S*H comes on, because she'll be back by the time it's over. And Ananda has a point: the Radar picture isn't mine. Therefore, if the owner of that picture is offended by my linking to it, I am truly sorry, and I plan on changing it soon (though this will involve linking to another pic, so I'm not sure what that solves...::good-natured shrug::).
I hate flying. Hopefully tomorrow will be quick and free of abdominal difficulty. I'm guessing it will, so I'm not bothering with the Dramamine unless I'm really sick--it works, but it makes me incredibly tired during the trip, and I'm tired of trying to arrange airline pillows on airline tray-tables in a comfortable manner, and also tired of getting amused looks from flight attendants as I do so.
Knee appointment went very well; she didn't seem to notice the cyst, so maybe it's gone after all. In any case, I don't have to come back unless there's a problem, which is, to quote Bridget Jones, v. good.
Should read Crime and Punishment, as I won't be taking it along; will probably watch M*A*S*H and work on Applebus instead.
Tenn' enomentielva,
-Laurel
...I leave on vacation tomorrow. Hurrah! One day of it is in Mexico (we're seeing the Mayan ruins), and I'm hoping to be able to carry on some form of conversation with a local or two...must find cool souvenirs somewhere for Ananda, Daf, Zinni, Lily, and maybe Melinda/Bethie/Holly/Jen, too...
Was thinking about my hair as opposed to my friends'. See, with most of my friends, their hair has gotten progressively longer since I met them--Daf, Bethie, Sara, Melinda, and even old friends I don't know anymore, like Jenny and Kelly. Mine has gotten shorter. My parents first let me get it cut in the fifth grade--until then, it was halfway down my back, like Daf's is now--and ever since, it's gotten shorter in stages, from my original fifth-grade shoulder-length to my sixth-grade mid-neck bob to my eighth-grade disaster cut (higher bob, but my hair went puffball; I love psycho-wonderful Chuck from church dearly, but he is no longer allowed to style my hair) to my tenth-grade just-below-the-chin bob to now, my ultrashort (for me) Sarah Hughes cut. I mean, in between all the aforementioned, my hair grew out, usually to my shoulders or a little below, but still.
Anyway, that's random and meaningless.
Work has been infathomably boring. Today was especially bad because I'd forgotten my watch, and the only clocks in the rooms are the ones in the corners of the computers. See, I'm one of those people who compulsively looks at their watch a couple dozen times a day. It's not a matter of boredom, even, just so much as what time it is. So to me, this lack of clock display was cruel and unusual punishment--it made everything seem twice as long, and I kept having to squint at Linda's computer, because I don't have one of my own (I'm just a student helper). Ah, well, I'm home now, and off work through vacation.
Must pack sometime this afternoon, so Mom can't yell at me for not having done it beforehand. This means I should do it now, before M*A*S*H comes on, because she'll be back by the time it's over. And Ananda has a point: the Radar picture isn't mine. Therefore, if the owner of that picture is offended by my linking to it, I am truly sorry, and I plan on changing it soon (though this will involve linking to another pic, so I'm not sure what that solves...::good-natured shrug::).
I hate flying. Hopefully tomorrow will be quick and free of abdominal difficulty. I'm guessing it will, so I'm not bothering with the Dramamine unless I'm really sick--it works, but it makes me incredibly tired during the trip, and I'm tired of trying to arrange airline pillows on airline tray-tables in a comfortable manner, and also tired of getting amused looks from flight attendants as I do so.
Knee appointment went very well; she didn't seem to notice the cyst, so maybe it's gone after all. In any case, I don't have to come back unless there's a problem, which is, to quote Bridget Jones, v. good.
Should read Crime and Punishment, as I won't be taking it along; will probably watch M*A*S*H and work on Applebus instead.
Tenn' enomentielva,
-Laurel
7.10.2002
Stuffed folders with college students today for an open-house program coming up a couple of weeks. Three other girls, and all of them nice enough, but...well, they lead typical college lives. I had to laugh at the one guy that stopped in to talk to them, though, a friend of theirs...he was telling us about his roommates getting a sudden, random midnight-ish urge to bake cookies. The problem? Apparently they bake much like my brother does--that is to say, they can't yet grasp the concept that cookies aren't soup, and you can't just estimate on amounts you put in if you want them to come out correctly (unless you really know the recipe and can just throw in as much as you want without really measuring, but you can't just say, like my brother does, "Only half a cup of flour? That's way too little. I'm putting in a cup and a half. The batter'll run if we don't.").
Other than that, my day was, for the most part, mind-numbingly boring.
Should read Crime and Punishment. Will probably work on Bono de Bergerac instead.
-Laurel
Other than that, my day was, for the most part, mind-numbingly boring.
Should read Crime and Punishment. Will probably work on Bono de Bergerac instead.
-Laurel
7.09.2002
Had a good day today. I think the best part of work, which was semi-boring, was taking a file over to another building on campus...and then running back through the pouring rain. Honestly, as wet as everything got, it was all I could do not to giggle like a tickled five-year-old all the way back.
Since the file was in the art building, I also got to see a cool-looking Lord of the Rings piece, a sort of collage (Ananda would know the real word for the kind I mean), that the whole class had done together.
...'Course, you know, there are students on campus currently for summer classes, the ones who wanted to take them...where's my tall, curly-haired college guy with an umbrella to notice me getting soaked and offer to walk me back? *g*
::shrugs:: But then I wouldn't have gotten so wet, would'I've?
-Laurel
Since the file was in the art building, I also got to see a cool-looking Lord of the Rings piece, a sort of collage (Ananda would know the real word for the kind I mean), that the whole class had done together.
...'Course, you know, there are students on campus currently for summer classes, the ones who wanted to take them...where's my tall, curly-haired college guy with an umbrella to notice me getting soaked and offer to walk me back? *g*
::shrugs:: But then I wouldn't have gotten so wet, would'I've?
-Laurel
7.07.2002
Have decided that Lily and Ananda's idea of giving a quick current-self-sketch on the sides of their blogs is a good idea, so am doing so myself, above the profiles. Lalala. I'm always copying what they do a few weeks after the fact, aren't I? *g*
Namárie [goodbye] for now (it's Quenya, if you couldn't tell).
-Laurel
Namárie [goodbye] for now (it's Quenya, if you couldn't tell).
-Laurel
7.06.2002
Kel-eborn. Holy cow.
That is how you pronounce LotR's character Celeborn. I found this out while attempting (and failing) once again to reach the end of Lesson One in Ardalambion's Quenya course. Got farther this time, far enough for the assertion that c is always, without exception, pronounced k--this point was accompanied by a rather haughty-sounding side note that obviously the makers of the 1978 semi-animated version of LotR (which, by all accounts, is truly hideous, though I've never seen it--review from RinkWorks is here if you want it) had never gotten to Tolkien's Appendix E on Quenya pronunciation, as their version of the Elf's name had been said "Seleborn". And I'm like, uh-oh...
Have come to the conclusion that when (if) I manage to learn some basic Quenya, it will be much more often written (like in e-mail or something) than pronounced. Several of the basic Quenya sounds, including the ubiquitous short a, do not exist in an exact sound in English. They refer you to specific parts of LotR: Fellowship or Star Wars for correct pronunciations. They also give a few other examples of ways to pronounce them, but I am invariably bad at them. (Apparently, so was Cate Blanchett, Galadriel in LotR; her pronunciation of Eärendil was blasted by the coursewriter as "butchering"...goodness only knows what he thinks of Enya, in that case, since even I'm starting to find possible faults with her pronunciations!)
Spanish comes much more easily to me. I spent much of the afternoon reading Spanish for Dummies, brushing up on my market terms for when we're in Mexico in a week. Still, there's a lot I don't know, even basic-type stuff. I suppose this isn't my fault, as I don't live there, but SdlA is at rather a slow, trudgy spot (and I thought Tolkien's bits like that were hard to read in English!), and I wish I could read it better, to be done with it and on to the action all the faster. To finish the book by mid-January, I have to be done with the first part (that is, I have to get to where they begin to talk about Sam and Frodo) by September, and this is looking less and less likely to happen.
I also finished a whole part of Crime and Punishment and two chapters of The Silmarillion, and saw several episodes of M*A*S*H that I hadn't yet. A very productive day, if I may say so.
-Laurel
That is how you pronounce LotR's character Celeborn. I found this out while attempting (and failing) once again to reach the end of Lesson One in Ardalambion's Quenya course. Got farther this time, far enough for the assertion that c is always, without exception, pronounced k--this point was accompanied by a rather haughty-sounding side note that obviously the makers of the 1978 semi-animated version of LotR (which, by all accounts, is truly hideous, though I've never seen it--review from RinkWorks is here if you want it) had never gotten to Tolkien's Appendix E on Quenya pronunciation, as their version of the Elf's name had been said "Seleborn". And I'm like, uh-oh...
Have come to the conclusion that when (if) I manage to learn some basic Quenya, it will be much more often written (like in e-mail or something) than pronounced. Several of the basic Quenya sounds, including the ubiquitous short a, do not exist in an exact sound in English. They refer you to specific parts of LotR: Fellowship or Star Wars for correct pronunciations. They also give a few other examples of ways to pronounce them, but I am invariably bad at them. (Apparently, so was Cate Blanchett, Galadriel in LotR; her pronunciation of Eärendil was blasted by the coursewriter as "butchering"...goodness only knows what he thinks of Enya, in that case, since even I'm starting to find possible faults with her pronunciations!)
Spanish comes much more easily to me. I spent much of the afternoon reading Spanish for Dummies, brushing up on my market terms for when we're in Mexico in a week. Still, there's a lot I don't know, even basic-type stuff. I suppose this isn't my fault, as I don't live there, but SdlA is at rather a slow, trudgy spot (and I thought Tolkien's bits like that were hard to read in English!), and I wish I could read it better, to be done with it and on to the action all the faster. To finish the book by mid-January, I have to be done with the first part (that is, I have to get to where they begin to talk about Sam and Frodo) by September, and this is looking less and less likely to happen.
I also finished a whole part of Crime and Punishment and two chapters of The Silmarillion, and saw several episodes of M*A*S*H that I hadn't yet. A very productive day, if I may say so.
-Laurel
7.05.2002
Honestly, I think that before too long, somewhere between 50-75% of my income will be spent on books, many of them Spanish. My dad and I spent an hour at Borders today (which was a good job, as I'd just had a wretched dermatologist's appointment--okay, when they tell you that wart removal by laser only hurts as much as your little brother snapping a rubber band on your arm, they lie, right through their teeth--it feels much more like they're practicing voodoo on you...ow...), and I'm like, Ahhh, books... Found the original translation of Cyrano (that is, the one I first read, and not the version I have at home)...and it's as beautiful as ever, but I'm no longer sure it's better than the one I have. I may just like the Christopher Fry version better after all. And then I hung 'round in the foreign book section (near where my dad was, looking at books about colleges) and mooned over the Spanish ones.
Love books. No wonder I want to teach English lit.
-Laurel
Love books. No wonder I want to teach English lit.
-Laurel
7.02.2002
7.01.2002
Well, it's a very little bit weird, my hair, to me--I've never had my hair short before, never shorter than a chin-length bob, and now there's no hair below my ears at all, 'cept for the back of my neck...everyone likes it but my brother, though. Even my dad gave his grudging approval, which shocked me (he's known for his semi-nasty post-haircut comments).
Another nice day. Work was boringish, but I got to go to the coffee shop on campus and get a French soda (which I love; this one was almond-flavored...they're basically sparkling water, half-and-half, and a flavoring you get to pick), which the shop called an Italian cream soda, which makes sense b/c the drink w/out half-and-half is just an Italian. Right, understand any of that? *g*
...Hm, must go looking for more British Isles slang. Hey, yeah, I haven't done Scottish yet!
-Laurel
Another nice day. Work was boringish, but I got to go to the coffee shop on campus and get a French soda (which I love; this one was almond-flavored...they're basically sparkling water, half-and-half, and a flavoring you get to pick), which the shop called an Italian cream soda, which makes sense b/c the drink w/out half-and-half is just an Italian. Right, understand any of that? *g*
...Hm, must go looking for more British Isles slang. Hey, yeah, I haven't done Scottish yet!
-Laurel