curlygrrl's Xanga

St. Matthias

Wed, 14 May 2008 10:36:54 GMT

So it seems that there are cute French boys working in the lab just down the hall from me. How did I not know this? They've been there for a little while now too. And I didn't have a clue until I had to track down the source of the mystery fax to France that showed up on our Phone Report this month. I had been thinking cranky thoughts about The Guys From The Other Division that moved into our building a while ago and keep acting like we're their front office too (they haven't raided the office supplies cabinet yet, but we'll be ready for them when they come). Then my search led me to Secret Lair of the Cute Boys (aka the Carbon Something Lab), and heard a guy holler, "Hey, Frenchies, who made a fax!" as I stared into dark eyes fringed with the thickest lashes I think I've ever seen on anyone, male of female. It was all there: the dark, tousled hair, the hint of worldly wit and charm in the way he pulled out his wallet, the fascinatingly sexy accent as he counted out the change. Shoot. He can make personal faxes from our fax machine any day!

I need more coffee. Also more gas for my car, but that's another story.

The day that grades were mailed I e-mailed Prof. Peat the link to the first and last time I quoted him on this blog. I could tell when he got the e-mail because suddenly all these footprints showed up on my feedback log starting at the last entry and working their way backwards. He didn't comment on them directly, though he did post a comment on my blog saying, "that professor sounds like he should get a real job." He did like my paper, though, which was a relief. I did so much of it at the last minute. I know I do good work, but I'm always aware that it could be better! If you're interested in more Prof. Peat, you can check out his own blog here.

Two out of three of my professors are pushing me to submit my final papers for publication somewhere. This is on top of the other papers that Prof. X and Dr. Cart were pushing me to send out a while ago. Well, and the poems that the Prof in the poetry class I took last year thought were professional and publishable. Maybe this summer I'll actually have the time to send some of that stuff out. And then we'll see what happens.

Also, a co-worker just forwarded this online quiz to me. It's about what to do if you're caught in an earthquake. Being so solidly Midwest, this isn't something we think about much. However, considering the way we got shaken up just a little while ago, it's something worth learning about. I'm feeling a little smug to learn that I did the approved thing with this last quake.

St. Dominic de la Calzada

Mon, 12 May 2008 17:04:01 GMT

People keep asking me what I'm planning to do with my summer break. I say, "Breathe," but I know that isn't a real answer. To tell the truth, I've been hesitant to make plans, or at least to speak those plans out loud. Once you start making lists, they start looking like To Do lists, and then it's pressure instead of relaxation. Mostly I need to rest this summer, recuperate somehow. I only have a year or so left of my undergraduate. I need to summon the energy from somewhere to push through and finish this thing. I know I'll do much better in grad school. The way the classes work is what comes naturally to me. No more of these "daily reflection papers" that make me want to gag. But I still have a long way to go until I get there, so... rest while I can.

What else do I want to do this summer? Have fun. Go to the drive in at least once. Go swimming. Plant rose bushes (my parents bought me the rose I've been longing for as my birthday present ). Drink tea out on the porch swing looking down the long arcade of porches. Have parties with all of my friends talking and laughing in the evening air. Maybe have a tea party with my Grandmother's china. We'll see.

It's going to be a good summer.

Bl. Thomas Pickering

Fri, 09 May 2008 16:28:05 GMT

So far it seems like the main thing I've done with my summer vacation has been housework. Well, and mow the lawn, but that's housework too. Of course, there's been a lot to catch up on. Finals, plus trip right before finals, plus friends staying over and using the washer the weekend after finals equals a lot of dirty laundry piled up. And then, it had been far too long since I baked bread. I had a new bread recipe to try: Jim Lahey's No-Knead Bread, garnered from the seductive archives of the always-alluring Smitten Kitchen. It looked too easy to be true. Just mix three ingredients (four if you count water) together, let it sit for a while, flop it over on itself, let it rise again, and then bake? No way. But, oh, dear Lord. That bread is good. I've made it two times this week, and already Johnsy's bugging me to make it again. I like the bread, but she's becoming obsessive. I mean, usually she eats some of the bread I make. It's darn good bread. But she's not much of a bread-eater, so I account for most of it. Not this bread. I swear I'm going to have to start hiding it from her in order to get any of it at all. Now if I could just figure out a way to keep it from sticking to the covering towel on the second rise...

I haven't gotten out into the garden nearly as much as I'd wish. I did make it last Sunday, and spent a few lovely hours pottering about with my trowel neatening the edges of my flower beds, weeding the vegetable garden and planting the restrained three zucchini plants that Johnsy and I compromised on. I did a little work clearing out the weeds in the rose bed along the side of the front porch where I intend to plant the Pascali rose I picked up at Wal-Mart a while ago. The poor thing really needs to get into the ground, and soon. On Wednesday I spent part of the morning mowing the grass for the second time this year. It was so jungle-licious I barely got the back yard done in the time I had available, and didn't get to the front yard at all. That definitely has to get done this weekend, so guess what I'm doing tomorrow morning. Sigh.

The very cool thing is that the books I ordered from Barnes & Noble have been slowly coming in. My Swing Club kids surprised me at the last meeting with a lovely card with an even lovelier gift card inside! I had so much fun deciding what I was going to get with it, trolling the Barnes & Noble website for bargains. In the end I decided on two CDs: Laverne Baker and the Hairspray Soundtrack, and three books by two of my favorite sci-fi authors. I had always borrowed my sister's copies of The Blue Sword and Rose Daughter by Robin McKinley, so I got those. And then I remembered that I had used to have a matched set of Judith Merkle-Riley's Margaret of Ashbury trilogy. Then I lent the middle book to my Former Roommate, and failed to get it back before she died. All her belongings have been disposed of, and the house is empty and waiting to be sold, so I think there's no way I'm getting it back now. So I replaced that too. Yesterday the nice UPS man brought be one of the books and the two CDs, and today one of the other books was waiting for me in the mail. Still, as lovely as the books and music are, they're no replacement for my kids! Thank goodness we can buy and sell each other on facebook Friends For Sale while we're apart!

Bl. Edmund Ignatius Rice

Mon, 05 May 2008 16:19:11 GMT

This morning I woke up in the most ridiculously good mood. It was at this ludicrously early hour too - something like 5:30. That's an hour when all sensible people ought to be either fast asleep or crankily awake nursing large mugs of coffee. Instead I was bounding out of bed, unable to close my eyes even one second longer, all bright eyed and, well, not bushy-tailed. That just sounds gross. But I was absurdly cheerful. And then I ate a little breakfast and headed out into the world. The sunrise was still blushing the horizon, a heavy dew made everything look glossy and magical, and without realizing it I was singing Ella Fitzgerald standards in my head. If I had been in a musical that was the point when the cast of thousands would have started filling in the street behind me, singing along in four-part harmony that somehow did not drown me out as I triumphantly sang my way towards my destiny. And, no, that didn't happen. But boy, it was a great morning.

I'm done with school. Not forever-done, but for now. All done. No papers due, no extensions on projects, nothing. Done. I'm not taking classes this summer either, so I have an actual summer break ahead of me. I know, it's amazing. I haven't had one of those in... in... years. Many years. I've been taking classes all year round with no break for a long time. I'm really tired. Plus, last year was kinda rough. I need a break. So I'm taking one. One whole glorious summer, all mine! Time to garden. Time to read completely unnecessary books. Time to (gasp!) hang out with my friends. Time for everything, and no sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that no matter what I choose to do, there are three other urgently necessary things I should be doing instead. I've been on break precisely one day and a half (since I turned in the last paper Saturday evening), and already I feel so light I almost think I could fly. Don't get me wrong. I love school. Really, I do. But I've gotten so tired. This summer I'm taking a break.

Here's the other amazing thing: Saturday morning Johnsy graduated from UD with her MA in Biology. She walked across the floor of UD Arena to receive her diploma. Yeah, you read that right. Walked. This was the first time she's walked in public in two years, since the day her legs decided not to work anymore and she fell over into a bookshelf in the biology department hallway. She had been struggling with a neurological disorder stemming from a skiing injury a couple of years earlier, but being the person she is, she didn't cut herself any slack. When I met her she was walking with a cane, on heavy pain medication, beginning the doctoral program at UD, and had just bought a house which she intended to renovate herself. And then her legs quit completely, and she ended up in a wheelchair.

After some trials and tribulations (including the doctors who tried to tell her it was all in her head, or came up with even more bizarre diagnoses), Johnsy found a doctor in Florida who could help her. He's the doctor who literally wrote the book on her disorder. She started intensive physical therapy, and switched some of her medications. Little by little she's been getting the use of her legs back, though they're far from reliable, and she pays a high price in pain every time for using them. Still, she's one of the most determined people I've ever known. A while ago she decided that she was going to walk to get her diploma. She kept it secret from a lot of people, including the biology department that refused to help her, that did its best not to give her a degree. When the time came, she did it, quietly, with a minimum of fuss, her favorite priest holding her arm on one side, and tightly gripping her cane with the other hand. It was graduation, and Johnsy walked.

God is good.

St. Louis de Montfort

Mon, 28 Apr 2008 16:25:25 GMT

I am a girl, and I have jammed. It was a fabulous Girl Jam.

Sorry. I just couldn't resist that. Though some of the blame goes to Mai who would randomly holler "Girl Jam!" at odd moments throughout the weekend. Seriously, though, I had a grand time. I don't think I've ever sweated through quite so many shirts. Though I think this was the first time I've gone to a dancing weekend in warmer weather. Thinking back, it seems like every other Lindy Exchange/whatever I've gone to has been Fall or Winter. I'm starting to get the hang of packing for dancing weekends. You pack as many pairs of socks as you think you'll need, and then you throw three more into the bag.

There was so much to love about this past weekend. Finally getting to learn a little Solo Blues, the killer Charleston routine, backwards swivels (and swivels of every other kind - I did so many swivels this weekend. I can't tell you how many, but my thigh muscles could testify...), belly dancing, and all the many, many fabulous leads there. Plus, I had the enormous good fortune to be there with both Mai and Lady G, who made the weekend fabulous in every way. I will never think of Enya the same way again. And Carol Channing is a goddess. It's true.

Now I'm back to my regularly scheduled life, and I thought I might mention that this is Exam Week. I'm feeling remarkably stress-free about it at the moment. I have three papers (two easy, one hard) to do, all of which are due at the end of the week, so I have lots of time to do them in, and one test. I'm feeling all relaxed and full of endorphins from dancing. Plus, on facebook today I found that someone took a picture of me dancing that I actually like. To begin with, people don't take pictures of me very often, and then I usually hate the ones that they do take. But this one I like. I look happy and fairly cute. The guy dancing with me looks like he's enjoying himself too. Plus, it looks like I'm dancing, and dancing well. It's a good picture.

I think I might get to make myself a whole salad of the lettuces from my garden for dinner tonight.

St. George

Wed, 23 Apr 2008 17:00:30 GMT

Today I'm feeling cranky. Why? No good reason. Because I'm tired, because I'm stressed, because I have so much to do before tomorrow that even if I stay up all night I won't get it all done (and we all know I won't be able to stay up all night), because people keep coming up with more things that I should do, and all of them have time sensitive stamps on them. Because today was the last day of Prof. Peat's philosophy class. Because I have to cut the grass. Because one of the kites I have stashed in the trunk of my car has mildew on it (my trunk has weather stripping issues). Because Wal-Mart has been completely out of the yarn I need the last ten times I've checked. Because ... just because. It's a beautiful day outside, I'm wearing shorts for the first time this year, school is almost over, I'm getting paid on Friday, and my sweet peas finally came up, but so far that isn't making any difference. I'm still cranky.

Sigh. Hopefully dancing will help. It usually does. I go in feeling irritated at the world, and I leave tired and happy, enjoying life again. Hopefully that will work for me again tonight. I'm not a fan of chronic crankiness.

Prof. Peat Quote Book (the last one ):
"It's a philosophy salad bar: Kant croûtons, iceberg Nietzsche..."
"I got in an argument the other day about whether Jesus would have ever called anybody a Nazi."

St. Anselm

Mon, 21 Apr 2008 16:48:35 GMT

Yup. It's Monday. This inescapable reality is only accentuated by the fact that I was at the library with Johnsy until four o'clock this morning. She was doing the last corrections to her thesis, which had to be turned in to and approved by her adviser today or else she'd have to wait another semester to graduate. I was her way home, and she didn't have her cell phone with her to call me, so I had to stay until she was done. I was trying to work on my philosophy paper, but after about 2am my brain shut down and I started reading random science fiction books just to stay awake (thank God for UD's SFWA collection!). I was home and in bed about 4:30, and then I had to be up again at 8:30 to make a 9:00 appointment. Not that "up" really meant much at that point. I mostly emerged from bed, got dressed in something other than pj's (if my garments resembled anything like a coordinated outfit it was entirely coincidental), and stumbled towards the door. God bless Johnsy, who made coffee and stuck a travel mug of it in my hand as I went out. Without that, I dread to think what the morning would have been like. Sigh.

More fun with MDoS yesterday. I hadn't heard from him all weekend, and then he called while I was waiting for a table at Dewey's with swing friends after practice session. We'd been having fun helping Diva with her psych grad-school homework by taking intelligence tests. I was impressing people with my immediate recognition of such words as "nictitate," "friable," and "homunculus." They did have one word I'd never heard of before: pococurante, a word from the Italian meaning indifferent or not caring. That impressed me. Anyway, MDoS called in the midst of this fun. He had just finished a hard day's mathematical research and was interested in hanging out. What was I up to? I told him where I was, and he decided to come down and join me. He got there too late to eat with us, but we went to the 8pm UD Mass together. Mass with MDoS is funny. He has a strong voice, which is nice because it gives me something to harmonize against. Unfortunately, he took my first harmonization as a personal challenge, turning every song into a competition for who would get the harmonization in first and who would be stuck singing the melody. I actually don't mind holding the melody firm for someone's harmonizing, so this did not bother me much, but he seemed to enjoy the contest. Afterwards I had been going to make him eggs and toast (home made bread, friends, home made), but he decided to go hang out with Indy at the 'rents instead. I didn't mind, since this gave me a chance to call 14. So it was all good.

In other news, my garden is coming along swimmingly. Even the sweet peas and carrots have come up. One of the things about planting radishes and lettuce is that you have to plant more seeds than you really have room to grow. This means that the little sprouts have to be thinned after they've grown a couple of leaves. What's cool is that these little sprouts are entirely edible, giving you a handful of small, tender, flavorful leaves for your eating pleasure. There's not enough to really make a salad, but I've been enjoying my own version of watercress sandwiches: thin sliced bread, a little cream cheese, and the washed baby lettuce leaves sprinkled with just a little coarse salt. Mmmmm....

On the not so thrilling side of things, yesterday I tried to wear shorts for the first time this year. At first it seemed like it would work, but first I had to add a sweatshirt, then thick wool socks. Finally I caved in and swapped the shorts out for jeans. Sigh.

I'm going to Girl Jam!

Prof. Peat Quote Book (the penultimate edition):
(Re: another professor) "The only memory he hasn't repressed is when one of his honors students called him a weenie, which he's still talking about seven years later."
(Re: his book, which is being released this summer) "It has a lovely bilious green cover. I was hoping for phlegm and I got bile."
"You're in good company. You could get a tattoo: sleazy as Frege."

St. Agia

Fri, 18 Apr 2008 16:16:53 GMT

So a while ago the local newspaper sent a team out to cover our regular monthly dance. I knew they were taking pictures, but I had no idea they were filming so much too! The article won't be out until Monday, but I just saw the video posted on the newspaper's website. There's more of me in it than I ever expected. I will say that my favorite part is seeing my bright yellow rain boots and coat draped over the couch looking like a still life in front of the mirror where you can see Sport dancing. You can also see two of my students doing not-half-bad Lindy Hop, which they had just learned. It's a fun video, and you can watch it here. Enjoy!

On the subject of agreeable surprises, last night MDoS showed up at Theology On Tap. It was startling, particularly since the last I'd known, he was still comfortably ensconced in Texas with Super T. I was sitting in the back passing notes with AnniPotts when I looked over, and there at the little table by the door was a familiar tall, dark-haired figure. It took me a moment to convince myself that yes, this really was MDoS, and then I poked AnniPotts and whispered, "Look over there!" The dawning realization and surprise on her face was priceless! Afterwards we collected Indy, and MDoS took us all out to Friday's in the Mustang the car rental company had supplied him with. That car was a lot of fun. It made the best revving-engine-noises ever. Even when MDoS was going slow (all ten seconds), it sounded like it was going fast. Awesome.

I ended up visiting my doctor again yesterday, for the third time in less than a month. I don't know what I have, but I can't seem to kick it. First there was the antibiotics for a sinus infection, then sulfa drugs when the antibiotics didn't work. Those seemed to clear things up most of the way, but a couple of days after I finished them I started having really, really bad headaches. Plus my glands were so swollen they made my throat hurt. The doctor says he doesn't think it's my glands that are swollen. He thinks I have carotidynia, a rare condition where the lining that surrounds the carotid arteries becomes swollen, often seen along with chronic post-nasal drip. The upshot is that I'm now on the super kill-everything antibiotics plus pain killer/muscle relaxant stuff. Hopefully this will take care of things now? I'm really, really tired of being sick.

And still on the subject of surprises - how about that earthquake last night? It startled me awake, and I sat up in bed. My main memory is watching my bedroom door open slightly and shut again quickly several times in succession as it shook. I was so out of it I thought it might be some weird atmospheric pressure/wind thing from having my window open to let in the fresh spring air. The trembling stopped, I blinked a couple of times, and then I was back asleep. This morning I had to do a news search to see what had really happened. It was such a surreal thing.

Prof. Peat Quote Book:
"Just because you're good at logic doesn't make you a good human being. And vice versa, vice versa being an important logical relationship."
Student: "Well, what about Dewey?" Prof. Peat: "Aw, f--- Dewey! Wait, that sounded dismissive. Well, it was, but it wasn't dismissive of your question, it was dismissive of Dewey."
"We'll put the sensitive, artistic types over here - which is another way to say fruitcake.

St. Bernadette

Wed, 16 Apr 2008 15:45:07 GMT

Johnsy defended her Master's thesis this morning. She said that it went well. I wasn't there, which stinks more than I can say. I wanted to be. I planned to be. It was at nine o'clock, and I woke up just in time to throw my clothes on and make it down to campus. Well, I could have if I were driving, and if I could park on campus like I usually do. Problem is, you can't park on campus if your roommate has taken the parking pass from your car. Johnsy needed it so that she and Dana (her friend who's visiting for a few days) could deliver all her stuff for the presentation. As soon as I saw the note they left for me I realized that this made sense. Of course they would need it. Unfortunately, by that time I couldn't possibly drive to school, park off campus, and walk across campus to the science center where the thesis defense was going to happen and make it anywhere near on time. I weighed the benefits of being there for Johnsy over barging in in the middle of her presentation, possibly causing a ruckus which could leave a bad impression on her panel. In the end I had to choose discretion over valor. But still. It sucks. I wanted to be there.

Sigh. I'll get over it. I just hope she will too.

I got a very interesting message from my little brother the other day. His Newman Club at OU is having their Spring formal in a few weeks. They're interested in swing dancing, so he asked if I'd be willing to come teach them. I said that I'd be happy to do it, only I couldn't afford the gas, and it might be easier for them to ask someone from the quite nice swing club they already have there on campus. It seems that they'd rather have me, to the point of being willing to pay for my gas and put me up for the night. So it looks like I'm going to be taking a little road trip to OU in May to teach a swing dancing lesson, possibly DJ a little, and hang out with my little brother (who's actually about a foot taller than me...). The extra cool part is that AnniPotts is going with me, since OU is her alma mater, and she'd like to see some friends there. My main challenge right now is finding someone to help me teach. I can teach both parts, but I need someone to help me demonstrate the moves. I've seen the pros teach classes by themselves, but usually even they grab someone who knows what they're doing out of the class to assist them. I could maybe teach AnniPotts the basics, but she's never really danced before. Plus, people tend to want to swing dance a lot more when they see a guy and a girl dancing with each other. Two girls dancing together may be very interesting to certain people, but it tends to lack whatever it is that inspires emulation. I'm not sure what I'll do about this. Maybe I'll see if I can persuade one of the guys from Dayton to go with me (not likely, since the lesson will be on a week night and most guys would have to work the next day). I do know a few of the guys who at least used to be part of the Athens swing club. Maybe I can get one of them to help me. We'll see.

Prof. Peat Quote Book:
"Do you see that on the wall in the bathrooms at [local bar]? For a good time, take Peat's philosophy of the 19th century class?"
"Unfortunately, most of it was done by insane Germans. I know, some of you think those terms are redundant."
"Happy birthday, Benny the 16th! Rock on, dude! And in his honor, let us discuss Nietzsche."
Student: "Well, that whole thing with the überme... überma..." Prof. Peat: "Let's just call him Clark Kent."
"Sorry, that was a smart ass response, but you must be used to it by now."

St. Gemma

Fri, 11 Apr 2008 16:34:27 GMT

One of the nice things about moving (one of the very few nice things - in general I loathe moving more than just about anything I can think of - all that disruption, and you don't know where to put anything anymore and it's just chaos and badness - shudder) is getting to know your new home. There can be so many lovely surprises. For instance, I did not know that the large tree outside my bedroom window is the kind of tree that erupts into large clouds of tiny white blooms in the Spring. We had a couple of those trees across the street from where I used to live. The tiny, confetti-sized petals would shake loose in the Spring breeze and blow into the open windows of my car when it was parked outside. I would come out and there would be flower petals scattered all across my car seats, as if the wind were my secret admirer. This morning when I pulled up the blinds to let in the morning light, I saw that the tree whose branches I've been admiring all winter (they look filigree-like against the sky) has become one big, glorious bouquet of delicate flowers. Sigh. So beautiful.

I've been watching the Buffy DVDs The Other One (who really needs another nickname by now) lent me. I used to be so into that show. Then I went off traveling the country for two years with a youth ministry retreat team and totally lost touch with the TV shows that had been so important to me before I left. Then I found out almost by accident that One was a fan, along with Veronica Mars (a show I'd heard about but never watched) and Heroes. First he lent me his treasured Season One boxed set of Heroes, and then, when I returned it, blessed me with an abundance of DVDs: both Seasons One and Two of Buffy plus the first season of VM. I started watching the latter with Johnsy, who has made me swear deep and dangerous oaths not to watch it without her, but the Buffy I've kept all to myself. I had forgotten how many of my favorite episodes were in Season Two: the Halloween one with Oz getting his first look at Willow at the end, and the one where Xander inadvertently makes all the women in the town fall in lust with him by trying to cast a love spell on Cordelia, Spike and Dru being deliciously evil, and is it just me or does Angel become infinitely more interesting after he reverts to Angelus? It's been a good time.

Unfortunately, my dreams have been rather odd lately. This morning I woke out of dream in which Willow and Buffy were hiding from a horde of ravening St. Patrick's day revelers fiercely brandishing shamrocks. They weren't very scary, but they were wearing an awful lot of kelly green. Somehow Willow's ability to turn sweet potatoes green through witchcraft was going to save the day. I'm not making any of this up. Seriously. All courtesy of my strange and twisty subconscious and One's generous lending of DVDs.