Friday, December 31

My father's final words were

"Love her, as I loved her, and there will be joy."

That was an ode to The Princess Bride, which I've seen on VH1 at least three times since I got home [I only watched one of those times]. Wonderful.

I just thought I'd leave a few "final words" before I head up-up-and-away from here, as I find it unlikely that I'm near a computer again for some time.

(1) I got a replacement library card today, because my original one has gotten lost in the abyss that is our house. That's how I'm able to check my email right now. Woo!

(2) I got socks and pots for Christmas.

(3) I just got a whole lot of traveler's checks. I mean a WHOLE LOT.

(4) I spent a lot of good time with Dustro and Jenn yesterday. I bought my first Gap clothes, and I must say, I'm beautiful. And I got courduroys from Lane Bryant. Good times! Oh, and I bought three books. A Turkish phrasebook, Stitch N' Bitch Nation, and Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister. All very exciting. I spent a lot of moneys.

(5) I somehow got a B- in Buddhism, despite the fact that I didn't even turn in a third paper and got Cs on all of my tests [testes]. I must've gotten a really good final grade.

(6) I can't think of anything else. Have a fabulous new year, and if I don't post, you'll hear from me in February. I'm partying with Timmy BoJangles tonight.

Thursday, December 23

Point of coincidence

When I was little, we used to drive up to my great-grandmother's house nearly
every weekend. We'd stay and my parents would talk with her, and I'd play in
the backyard by the creek [or "crik," depending upon your pronunciation].
Since the drive was only two hours or so, we were there fairly often.

There's one spot in the middle of the state that we drove by every time, a
field with at least three radio poles. At night they would be lit up, as radio
poles are, and when we'd drive by, my dad would always ask, "Do you remember
what that's called when they line up one behind another?" Being fairly young
at the time and not particularly caring about things like that, I'd reply,
"No." And my dad would always remind me, "That's called the point of
." And then I continued spacing off and dozing for the
remainder of the drive, and he kept driving. [Kind of reminds me of the time I
tried to spell 'knowledge' and got it wrong twice. Don't ask why I thought of
this. Random childhood thing.]

The reason I relate this tender anecdote is that my dad brought it up again
the other day. And I couldn't remember. But this time, I think I'll try to
keep that bit of knowledge, because you'll never know when it comes in handy.

Like the Christmas party that my mom threw on Tuesday night at our house for
her employees. [She's the lab manager of our local county hospital.] She
invited everyone over, and we had a potluck kind of gathering. [What is
it with me and potlucks lately? Sheesh.] Well, one of her employees is a
rather ditzy woman, but she's loads of fun. And she's also the mother of
someone I knew back in high school — someone I kind of had a crush on,
although I didn't realize it then. [To make matters more exciting, the guy she
was dating then was the same person I had a crush on in sixth grade. Oh, how
times change and irony flies.]

Anyway, my mom mentioned that I'll be going to Greece and Turkey in January,
and this woman said, "Oh, Jenna's going to Greece, too." And I, being my usual
curious self, asked when. "January." I gave her a small look of confusion and
said, "Really? When does she fly out?" "Oh, I don't know. Maybe on the 3rd."
Long conversation short, it turns out that Jenna will be in Greece for January
doing a nursing program.

Coincidence? I have no idea. After all, her mom's only worked for mine for
about two years. And I didn't even know that until Tuesday night.

Note: Boldface indicates my dad's use of his booming radio announcer

Tuesday, December 21


Once upon a time there was a little girl. She decided to spend some time
abroad, and her family decided to take over their church for one evening so
that they could raise money for her to do things with while she was there. Her
father cooked all day, making four different kinds of soups for a soup supper
— potato, ham and bean, chili, and oyster stew.

Also, as a last-minute thing, her mother asked her to sing a solo in church
that she had done five years previously. She wasn't too fazed — one
run-through and she was good to go. However, her mother neglected to mention
that they were singing the entire cantata, not just the piece with the solo.
And, as an added bonus, her mother taught her the descant so that she could
sing very high notes over the entire congregation and thus feel somewhat
embarassed when everyone came up to her after church to say, "Oh, you're not
going back to Luther! You have to stay and sing for us every Sunday!" and she
said, "No, I have to go finish my education but thank you anyway" and ran away
to hide in a corner until the rest of the churchy people had fled off to their
own homes.

This was all the same day. But I got upwards of $375 from people. And somehow,
I'm still getting random checks from people I don't really know. A librarian
gave me $50. And someone else gave me $100. They're both getting postcards.

Wednesday, December 15

Froggin' and potluckin'

I had to frog nearly two inches of ribbing I've been working on for Lina's hat because I failed to take her massive hair into account. I hope the number of stitches I picked works ... I don't want to have to frog it again.

Also, I'm heading home tomorrow after my Food and the Environment final [a potluck, of all things], which means that I probably won't be posting terribly often, and even much less when I head to Greece and Turkey in January.

So if I'm not back for a while, don't fret. I'm just not near the 'net. [Not an intentional rhyme. I promise.]


Ain't no sum bitch gonna treat me like a ho. I'm a classy honey kissy huggy lovey dovey ghetto princess.

I listened to this song as I went to sleep last night, and I was happy. That is, until I had a dream that Sowa pronounced my name very incorrectly and I decided to write it down underneath a picture of me so that he would know how to properly address me. I was drunk at the time, and so I spelled it the way he said it instead of spelling it correctly. And then I wrote, "except without the extra I" which was the whole problem in the first place.

Good times were had by all at La Rana and Corner and [believe it or not] 'Scoe's. For a Tuesday during finals week, there was no-one at the bar. It was nutso. So Beth and I chatted it up with a girl named Maren in the bathroom. For at least ten minutes. I thought it was funny that we didn't leave the bathroom area until we were done talking. Not a large space.

ANYway. I think I'm done for now. I just thought you'd like to know.

Later ...
Something you should think about, not only during the holiday season, but year-round. I learned about these two sites through this BBC article. If you're tired of being materialistic during the holidays, perhaps you'd like to impact someone else's life.

Good Gifts Catalogue
Alternative Gift Catalogue

And Christmas isn't the only time to give gifts like these — they're needed year-round.

Tuesday, December 14

Snappish nook

It seems that many people can't help but compare Scissor Sisters to Elton John, including Dustro [that's how he originally described them to me, after he'd caught them on SNL a few days ago]. I just love that.

And Buddhism is done — that's all I will say.

Almost ...

In just over 60 minutes, Buddhism will be done forever, and I am beyond excited. My brain cannot handle this. I don't think I'll be getting a very good grade in this class, but I have resolved myself to the fact that that's just fine with me. All we have to do is give a presentation for the remainder of class.

Had a slumber party over at Dustro's on Sunday night so that I wouldn't have to be awakened before 8 a.m. by various alarms sounding and phones ringing [the roommate had a final at the ungodly hour of 8 on a Monday, which is rather like death twice]. And so I got to sleep until noon yesterday. Dustro didn't wake me as he was going out, but I heard the door hinge squeak and poof! it was noon. It was incredibly nice to be able to sleep in a dark room until the end of morning. I never get to do that in my room, because the sun shines right on my face, and that's badtimes.

So thank you, Dustro, for offering up your couch.

And yesterday was Beth's birthday — she's a whopping 22. We're going out to La Rana tonight to have a small celebration with yummy drinks. Hooray for birthdays!

It is time for me to say adieu.

Sunday, December 12

Ho ho ho

I love my dear Dustro. It's unfortunate that the photo is of such grainy quality. I did, however, work up an advertisement for Dustro to get him some booty.

Too early

What kind of crazy fucknut sets her fucking alarm to go off at 10 in the fucking morning on a Sunday?!* It started going off, and I thought the ceiling was coming crashing down on me. I peek through my sleep mask at my own alarm — not even 10 a.m. [my clock is five minutes fast]. I seriously wanted to beat puppies. And then when I got up to go to the bathroom and get away from the heinous noise, I glanced over to her bed — her head is less than twelve inches from her alarm. Seriously incensed by then, I stalked off to the bathroom and brushed my teeth rather violently.

I wish I could tell her that most of the things she does piss me off, but frankly, I don't know if I could be tactful about it. And I'm not good with confrontations. I suck.

She also has a test at 8 a.m. tomorrow — Monday. I'm sleeping elsewhere.

* I'm thinking this in all caps in a very large font like Impact, but I decided to spare your eyes for the time being. Apologies also on the frequency of the F-bomb.

Friday, December 10

Wax Bush and sex toys

I discovered a bit of amusement today when I was catching up on Neil's journal. It's an article from CNN about Madame Tussaud's Nativity display, which depicts Kylie Minogue as the angel and George W. Bush as one of the wisemen, among other amusing celebrities. [You can flip through a few pictures there.] I found it to be a nice commentary, especially Bush's oxymoronic role. An official from the Vatican said that "it was sometimes acceptable to use modern figures in the supporting roles because it can help make Christmas contemporary — but not the central characters."

-- brief pause --

I got distracted just now and I have to rant. I am sitting the the "LarLar" computer room, screwing around online and stuff. My roommate comes in to check her email, back from Wal-Mart [where, by the by, she goes more than any person I've ever met], and she tells me this long-ass story about how she locked herself out of the room and how the RA let her in. And then [wait for it — the kicker's coming] she told me that she went to an "adult toy party" and that she had bought "an adult toy" [I don't know why she didn't just say "sex toy" like the rest of the world.] and that she had to go buy "some of that liquid stuff" [I'm thinking ... lube.] and that it would be here either next week or during J-term and frankly I just don't want to know things like that about her at all. I think I might scream. I, like Franzie, feel the need to throw a tantrum*.

I hate the feeling that I want to kill puppies, but really ... I can't think of any other descriptor. Maybe rip my eyes out with the antenna on my cell phone or something. But seriously, people. I should take up kick boxing. I am seriously needing some de-stress time and frankly, I'm wondering why I'm more stressed by my roommate than homework. Oh, wait. She's crazy.

*Usually this is when I get back to my room and my roommate is sleeping in the middle of the day, but sometimes you just need to make an exception.

Thursday, December 9

Good news

A small list of the good things right now.

(1) I am 95% certain that I will have the job that I want next semester — production manager. That means I get to design a whole new layout for the paper. I'm pumped.

(2) I just got my Buddhism paper back, which I wrote on my zazen meditation experience. I got a B+ [10/12 points], which is wonderful, considering the fact that I've been testing at C-level [sea level] on all of my tests. My grade might go up a little before I bring it crashing down on the final!

(3) I am ahead on my short papers for paideia, and even though I'm down a field trip, I think it will be fine. There are two more left to write — one for tomorrow, and one for the final. And by the by, our final, I believe, will consist of turning in our final papers and having a potluck. That means I'm going to be making green bean casserole for the second time this semester. Yummy.

(4) I am finished serving on the PRIDE council during my college career. Not that this was ever necessarily a bad thing, but sometimes enough is enough. I'm glad to let other people have a chance, like my biddy Sam. She's in one of the co-chair positions for next semester, along with my co-chair from last semester, Sumnah.

(5) I walked by the back door of Marty's at just the right time today. I saw Drea out there, smoking a cigarette [ewe] and talking on the phone. But who was she talking to? Sumnah! I was so happy to get to talk to her for a couple of minutes. She told me that she's having a good time, and I can't wait for her to come back. I think she have some good stories and probably more ideas. And she'll bring the lesbian population back up.

(6) It's rainy/misty today, and I love this weather. I could just eat it.

(7) Tomorrow is Friday, and I am thismuchcloser to going to Greece and Turkey in January. I am beyond pumped. I've talked to a couple of people that are in the same class, and they are getting more and more exicted daily, just like me. [I just told one of them that if I don't see her before we leave for break, I'd see her at the airport. I'm just that excited. Woo! J-term!

Wednesday, December 8

This, too

It's days like today when you wonder just how much trouble you'll get into for bludgeoning your roommate with her alarm clock. It's Wednesday, which means that I get to bed late and have lots of time to sleep in - or at least that's how it's supposed to work. But today, like many other days, I was woken up by an alarm clock that I do not own and that goes off for what seems like hours. Sometimes I have to tell my roommate to wake up. How could she not hear that stupid thing? It's loud enough to wake the dead. [I'm sure Gertrude, our resident ghost, hates it as well.] Also, the phone decided to ring this morning [it's never for me in the mornings], before my alarm started going off. What did my roommate do? Barely move through the first two rings, and on the third, she sat up and tried to turn off her alarm clock. So of course I got out of bed like I always do when the phone rings in the morning, answer it, and hand it to my roommate. It was her mother. Reminding her to do her homework, I later come to find out.

This, too, shall pass.

Later ...

I went back to my room to get my books for my classes. I'm walking down the hall, and I hear the tinkling of ... an alarm clock. As I approach my room, it gets louder. I walk into my room and witness the inevitable - she is still sleeping. This was at about 1:05 in the afternoon. This is bad times, I tell you.

And it was warm and damp in there, to boot. Gag me.

Tuesday, December 7

Isn't it ironic?

Don't you think?

So I decided that, after work, I ought to get a little reading done in Food for Life: Spirituality and the Ethics of Eating, the last Paideia book of the semester. I also had the munchies, so I finished off a mostly empty bag of cracked pepper chips. Of course, the chapter I was to read was titled, "God and Eating Disorders," which acknowledged that obesity falls into the category of eating disorder, generally assumed to be only anorexia and bulemia. The chapter talked about how people aren't really hungry, and mentioned the "hungry ghosts" from the Tibetan Book of the Dead.

I succumbed to the ghosts - I polished off the chips.

Monday, December 6

Just to gross you out

Allan blew his [cream] horn at dinner, and he made a mess. And then he decided to see how far he could shoot it. It was rather nasty, and so was the moment when we discovered that the caf's pesto sauce floats in orange juice, making it look unsettlingly like bile.

Anyway, I just got really distracted. The ugly snow has melted and become mist, and I'm craving the rest of my cracked pepper chips.

Sunday, December 5

Chain reaction

Today was my last Juletide performance. Ever. It's a very empty feeling right now, sort of in the pit of the stomach. It's something that I'll never do again, and I'm glad to have participated in it, for all of the long reahearsals, aching feet, colds, increasingly crazy Glorias ... it's been well worth it.

I didn't think that I was going to cry - I was good all the way through both of our pieces, even though TP had his Look. I was even good through candle-lighting. But then I looked at Westie Nobes as he signaled the last cutoff, and he just looked so incredibly old and frail that one solitary tear slid down my cheek in sympathy. As we all know, tears follow the "safety in numbers" philosophy. By the end of the finale, I was definitely having some leakage. I saw Franzie from across the way, and I saw her crying [or at least fighting off tears] and finally I just let them fall. I can't stand watching friends cry alone, so I have to help.

And we bowed, and the tears kept coming down. And TP acknowledged Westie, and he gave his final bow, and I cried more, because it's just sad when old men cry.

Then the concert was over, and we took our senior picture. Our "usual group" was clustered in the middle, with the rest of the seniors from the other choirs surrounding us. Somebody started singing songs from our freshman and sophomore years in choir, and everyone joined in, laughing and crying all at once. We were a spectacle.

Our group left the seniors and joined Timmy and Scowly-Bling in the CRH, so we could have some private pictures. It seemed like everyone's parents were there to take pictures except mine, but I wasn't the only one. [Mine were here on Friday, and Thadd and Timmy and I took a couple of photos by Oedipus and Antigone, and Thadd's parents were here before, too ...] I'm excited to see our line-up shot - it's like show choir, sort of, and I've got a yoga pose going on.

But it's the end. And it's also started snowing. I'm not sure how I feel about either of those things.

Friday, December 3


My GermanBuddhism prof. came back today. He got his hair trimmed, which means that the peninsula of hair that's left in the middle of his forehead is more pronounced than usual. It was a little bit funny, but all in all, I'm quite glad he got a new haircut. He looks much less crazy.

On Thursday, I had yet another meditation experience. Although I'm in a different class, Dustro's account is virtually the same, right down to "indigenous people's style." I have to say that I also sorely missed my zafu and zabuton [meditation cushions which are much better than the bacteria-laden wrestling room floor]. It was also hotterthantworats ... in that room - dis-GUS-ting.

In my previous post, I mentioned that Latin was terribly frustrating. I ended up skipping that class yesterday and going with Dustro to watch him get his license renewed and a trim.

Tonight we've got rounds two and three of Juletide. The 'rents are coming to round three.

I'm going to go. People are pressuring me for food.

Thursday, December 2

Greek vs. Latin

I think I will cry if I have to translate any more of Curtius Rufus' history of Alexander. Either that or I will poke my eyes out.

Why is the New Testament easier to translate from Greek than Curtius' jumble of Latin? Aren't curly and odd-looking letters supposed to be harder to read?

I'm calling it a night. I will scream if I stay awake much longer.

Wednesday, December 1

World AIDS Day

I forgot to mention this in the last post. Today, Dec. 1, is World AIDS Day. A student group here on campus, SGAC [Student Global AIDS Campaign], is raising money for Iambi Hospital in Tanzania. They're also encouraging the student body to write hand-written letters to Representative Jim Nussle, the person who is in charge of divvying up U.S. funds in regards to AIDS. He is also a Luther alumnus. He has recently boosted funding, but only from much pressuring, especially from Luther students. Last year, a number of students signed a petition asking for the president of Luther to revoke a distinguished service award that Nussle was given earlier in the year. It was more like "distinguished disservice" (from this article).

So I guess what I'm saying is that if someone comes knocking on your door asking you to give money to help AIDS funding, do what you can.

Oh my god!

Further proof that my ass gets in the way:

On Sunday at the rehearsal, Collegiate, Cathedral, and Nordic choirs were all getting info on the last move we're supposed to make (so the finale looks pretty). We had to sit down on the risers, which I hate. So I'm sitting, I'm almost to the riser, and I sit on someone's shoulder. I almost took her down. I felt so embarrassed, and I said, "Oh my god! I just sat on your shoulder!" And she told me that it was ok.

Yesterday, though, I happened to mention it to her, in jocular fashion as usual, and she replied that she had sat on someone's head, so I shouldn't feel so bad. And I didn't, and we laughed together.

I still can't believe that I sat on someone's shoulder.