Thursday, June 30

It's alive

Like most blogs I've read lately, I apologize for being a bad blogger. Life caught up with me, tackled me, and deprived me of food, sleep, and air conditioning (beyond Brandt). My mom called me at Mixolydian (post-Dorian party), and she told me that the air conditioning had broken some time over the week that the padre y perro were left home alone. I grumbled at her and then continued mixing fruity alcoholic drinks. (These are good for watching counselors play volleyball against music faculty.)

I think I have a weird bug or something (headaches that make me feel like I'm spinning, and sweating with very little provocation, despite the fact that the air has been fixed). I probably didn't help the situation by staying up until 4 a.m. to finish Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire last night, further provoking it by not having eaten anything yet ...

My brothers desperately want to buy World of Warcraft, which requires an online monthly fee. My mom, of course, refuses unless the older of the two gets a steady job to pay for it. And then they pout.

Beyond working for working for el padre at the paper, I'm unemployed. At least he's paying me $10/hour ... I can buy a computer at last.

The real world is such a drag.

Saturday, June 25


I have lived every music major's dream – I spent the night in Jenson. That's right - I, the classicist, slept in the hall of music. You might ask why, and I might, too. But as many people who live in the midwest know, it's been pretty squidgy here in Iowa. Heat indices over 100 and humidity of too high a percentile drove the campers and counselors of third and fourth floors in Brandt to sleep on the floor of the orchestra and band rooms. Well, the CAMpers slept there. The counselors got to spend quality time sleeping front of the doors. Oh, and we had to wake up at six a.m. THAT was an adventure that I'll retell at another date, or at request.

Also, another pet peeve of mine is people who cannot properly pronounce the name of the product called Mod Podge. When they call it Modge Podge, I cringe and want to kill things. (That's the part of me that's spent too much time with English majors.) So it's unfortunate that the art teacher I've been working with these past two weeks says it that way, and then the campers pick it up ... it's all downhill from there.

I'm really tired and getting less drunk as I type (thanks to the Peters, who spent plenty of money on ... ahem ... beverages). And I haven't slept all that much in the past week.

Good night.

Friday, June 10

Oh Dorian!

"You can't mean that, surely?" snorts Freddy Love, adjusting his hat, made from real knitted uterus hide. Just one more reason to love Nation States.

Dorian starts tomorrow, which means waking up early and driving a lot. No, I did not mean to be awake at 3 a.m. My phone's set for seven. But I fell asleep with my head next to the open window ('cause DAMN was it stuffy in here), and of course later got woken up by a storm. Isn't it funny that the days you try to get the most sleep somehow manage to be the worst night's sleep you have in ages?

But I hear there's another reason to be awake early – at least in Decorah. The new Kwik Star opens in a little over an hour. Those of you who're going to witness this milestone: you're nuts. At least buy some coffee. I'll have to check it out myself when I roll into town.

Oh, and another completely unrelated topic. I have to stop at the bank here in town before I leave. I'm planning on leaving no later than 9 a.m. so that I can be on time to my 2 p.m. meeting. So I'm going through old newspapers, trying to find an ad for my bank, because I don't have the hours written down. I must've found seven ads, but NONE of them have the hours. How's that for stupid? So I came online to Google my bank to find the hours: the lobby opens at 9. How ironic and dumb is that? I suppose I'll have to go through the drive-up, which opens at 8:30 in the main branch ... but opens at 7:30 at the motor bank. I think I'll have to do that ... even though I hate drive-throughs.

Also, I just found a ginormous bug crawling across the kitchen floor. I just caught it in my patented Cup and Stiff Piece of Paper Move, and I have never seen this sort of creepy crawly before, much less in our house. I wonder where it came from? I'm just glad I saw it before it crawled across my feet ...

Well, I'm off to bed, hopefully, after I dispose of the critter and finish my online endeavors. I'll catch you on the flip side – Decorah, here I come.

Monday, June 6

Happy D-dayB-day

On this day: On June 6, 1944, the D-Day invasion of Europe took place during World War II as Allied forces stormed the beaches of Normandy, France. (courtesy of the NY Times)

Dorian starts a day earlier for the counselors this year. That's one less day with the family, but they've actually become a bit more tolerable and (surprisingly) less annoying. Except for the part where my brothers got into a fight 45 minutes after school let out for the summer, resulting in shouting, a punch in the gut, and tears. But hey – that's fine. As long as they don't slug me ...

So I'm gonna get some work done – I think there's a tourism flyer calling my name.

Thursday, June 2

Note: This post has been stewing for a while but, due to lack of reliable internet service, hasn't been posted until now.

I'm beginning to see things as they are. Not being the sort of person to immediately recognize certain things about the character of a person – even having known them for all or most of my life – I have made a startling number of observations in the past few days.

I have always thought of my (maternal) grandparents as being stubborn, practical-minded people, devoted very much to church and (their percepion of) god. Saturday night, however, I happened to overhear an argument between them and my cousin Aaron, a sophomore at UNO, who makes it a point to argue often (as his perspective is not usually shared by any of the older generations of the family and often ignored by the younger). The discussion was political in nature, as they often are with Aa. I seem to remember them talking about the punishment of criminals, and about faith (I missed the bulk of the conversation and only caught the tail end), with an aside about Australia and the criminals that the Brits left there.

In the midst of all this, I had a sudden realization: my grandparents are fundamentalists. It was the point at which Aa retorted to one of my grandparents that god wasn't in the picture, or wasn't an applicable solution or factor to something or other. (Like I said, I really didn't catch it all, and on top of that, I can't quite remember the context. I wish that I could, because it struck me as particularly daring of him to say, as well as him being completely in character and, I have to admit, quite funny.) In short, fundamentalism has grasped the oldest generation of this side of the family, but much more so Bonnie than Andy. An is very well-read, like Aa, and he tried to persuade Aa to read Romans, which, for him, explains a lot. Or it's his favorite book of the bible – I don't recall. Aa, for his part, threw in a bargain: he'd read Romans if An read Plato's Apology. I think that it was a mutual agreement. (Off topic only slightly, Aa at one point commented that he was beginning to understand their view of faith much more from the conversation, and he thinks that the Church of Christ seems to be the most open sect, and the most in tune with his beliefs. But I think he's a little bit Buddhist anyway.)

I had a whole 'nother bit here about Papua New Guinea, but I'll scrap or save that. Anthropology class trying to jump back through.

Of late, there's also been a rather large personality shift in my parents. I think that this is largely in part due to their recent participation with Walk to Emmaus. My mom has started explaining her view point a lot more (which sometimes gets monotonous, but it's nice to hear what she's thinking). My dad's started reading Elaine Pagels' The Gnostic Gospels – he's into feminist theology now? This is so completely out of character for him. You have no idea unless you know him.

What might be more startling is the changes I see in myself. (Or perhaps lack thereof.) But that's another story for another late night.

Also, I've discovered that someone I know is a Freemason. I will take pictures for you, Brenna.