Nothing For Now (Personal Archives)

This Song Needs More Tentacles

Okay, I'm officially (semi) settled into my summer abode. I got an ancient monitor from my parents and used to it to make myself a dual-monitor setup. Which ROCKS. I also discovered that thanks to that monitor, my delicate balance of plugs and outlets had been disrupted, and I won't be able to plug in my desk lamp. Which STINKS. The combined stupidity of the makers of power strips and those plugs that are the size of small bricks because they're also AC adapters is just frickin' stunning. One day I'm getting a PowerSquid.

Barring law school or some unexpected lottery winnings, this is my last free summer until retirement. I have so much I want to see and do- basball games and shows to attend, CDs to listen to, movies to watch, books to read. Now I just need to unpack all that superfluous non-computer stuff. Like clothes.

Headspace

A while ago I lost my Post-It pad, which was minorly frustrating until I forgot about it the way I forget everything I don't write down. Usually on Post-Its. Anyway, I just found the thing on my floor under about 50 pages of old poli sci readings. I just wanted to put that out there as a giant visual metaphor for my life of the past few weeks. A little Post-It pad of things that need to get done, completely buried by schoolwork.

One more exam.

Diplomatic Limits

You know, I try to be nice to my mouse, I really do. I never contemplated setting a trap for it, or poison, or just luring our local cat in to kill it. No, I'm nicer than that. I thought, "live and let live." But now that bastard's eaten my cookies, and there's hell to pay.

Of course, it's my own fault for thinking a plastic bag and a high bookshelf would be enough protection. And the reason there are mice in the building is exactly because of stupidity like mine. But dammit, those cookies were home-made by my dad. I was saving them for finals. :(

Carole King Didn't Mean It This Way

Today is one of those 'why do I have a reproductive system?' days. I've got the whole gamut of symptoms- cramps, chills, nausea. So...I'm just going to sit here for a few minutes until I can stand up again without falling down. Not that I did that or anything.

This had to come when I'm simultaneously writing two papers, right?

In the Interest of Education

Ways to Tell If You Have Low Blood Pressure:

#7: You almost black out when you get up too suddenly from your chair.

o_O Um, yeah. I think I'm going to get up slowly for the rest of the day.

***

The rain has finally (mostly) ended, and it's a beautiful thing. I'm listening to the playlist I made of uplifting and snappy tunes, and I'm almost feeling good again. Work is being worked on, and I actually have a very tight thesis and structure for my first poli sci paper. My biggest worries, actually, are the two seminar exams next week. I feel like my analysis just isn't at the right level- I make decent observations, but taking the additional step of "what of it?" is proving difficult. Still, the closer I get to finals, the closer I get to summer break, right?

Right.

Also, I just moved the part in my hair over a couple of inches. I have no idea why I did that, but the end result is rather nice, so I think I'll keep it. Mmm, I love the smell of randomness in the morning.

Sunny Side Up

I, um...I think I got sunburned today.

I've never been sunburned in my life. So when I was sitting in full sunlight in the early afternoon for 2 hours today, I didn't think anything of it, because I've done that for far longer in the past with no consequences except tanning. The thing is, I forgot that I didn't really go out in the sun last year, so I'm about as pale as I've ever been in my life. Or, at least I was. Now my arms are starting to itch and I definitely have a tan/burn line where my sleeve ended. Crap.

I can't believe this! I once sat in the upper deck of Yankee Stadium in August from 1-5pm for an extra innings game against the Mariners, and nothing happened. I went on the beach for 8 hours and only my nose got a little red. And now I'm getting burned from 2 measely hours? I've become Irish! Ack!

Okay, other stuff. I'm still working on more cover letters, because those stupid things take me forever to write. I sewed a belt loop back on to my jeans. (It was my newest pair, too. Tsk.) Today I still need to finish my seminar reading, start my final seminar paper, and really get started on one of my poli sci papers, because it's due next week. And after that? The deluge. I would say I'm not allowed to have fun anymore, but I've only had fun on about 3 occassions this entire semester, so there isn't much of a change there.

*looks at entry title* Happy things! Let's see...um, I'm highly amused by the watch mark on my wrist. So until tomorrow, at least, my sunburn will serve to amuse me.

Eyes Raised to the Heavens

I've finally finished writing my cover letters.

*angelic choir*

Now it's time for course advising!

*crackling flames*

The political science department, being ANNOYING, just informed me that actually, they overenroll their seminars, and everyone (yes! everyone!) in my seminar next semester is a senior. And I'm just a poli sci minor; how am I going to gain the advantage when a few people have to be pushed out? The head of the department said that a few people always move on their own, but I can't possibly count on my luck unless it's bad. So I'm making elaborate plans to say a friendly hello to the prof- or more friendly hellos than usual, since I really do like the guy. Which is why I want to take his seminar. ARGH.

Maybe I'll declare a double major. All I need is one more credit anyway. *ponders*

Making A List, Checking It Twice

Things to be done this weekend:

1. Write research proposal for International Politics
2. Write 2 cover letters for internships
3. Finish "skills and experience" portion of internship form
4. 8-hour light board shift
5. Start The Woman in White
6. Because I have a seminar paper this week.
7. AAAAAAH!

Oh, look, pretty flower.

So, uh...you think I'll have time to take more photos? Maybe?

*cries*

It'll Blow Over

We had another power outage today, but it was during the daytime and a lot briefer than the last one, thankfully. Like last time, I'm pretty sure the outage was caused by the wind, which was blowing hard enough to make me think I was going to tip over.

I spent most of my free time today plowing through what remains of Middlemarch, and I'm actually pretty close to finishing it. Which is good, because I need to do the supplementary readings tomorrow. The circle of work, like the circle of life, never ends. Speaking of which, I got more flower photos today. The mission was to get some good closeups of the daffodils, but it was so windy and they were so low down most of my images ended up looking like they were composed by an iguana on crack. Anyway, I did get a couple of relatively usable ones.

Nothing to See Here

Erm...I haven't updated this month, have I? That's kind of bad.

I have no excuse, really. I just forgot, and I was tired and sick and busy during midterms. I've had spring break for the past week but not a ton of computer access. Which is okay, in a way. I needed to detox from everything, and that week was really helpful.

So now I'm back in school, doing my laundry and my political science reading and contemplating who to harrass for internship recommendations tomorrow. Poor professors. Mostly, though, I'm gearing up for 2 more months of school. Heaven help me.

Dancing in the Dark

This morning campus security decided to test the fire alarm while I was in the shower. I thought that would be the most unusual part of my day. Ha.

So tonight I was in the concert hall with a couple of other techs, sitting in the booth while recording a jazz concert going on down on the stage. Suddenly, the recorder turned off.

"M, did you push a button?" the other tech asked the one closest to the device.

"No, I didn't do anything," he replied.

"Seriously, what did you do?"

He turned it back on. Five seconds later the power went off.

Now, you have to understand that the booth is quite small, and the only window looks out onto the performance space, which is very large but has no windows. So everything was completely pitch black until M found an LED light he had and I found my reading lamp, which is never quite bright enough to read by but was the best light source by far in this situation.

We couldn't find a flashlight. After a bit of fumbling around we realized that the musicians were still going at it- the amplified instruments weren't working anymore, but a concert grand can project pretty well on its own, and nothing was stopping people from clapping or singing to the light of a few cell phones. In addition to being inspirational, this bought those of us in the booth some time to figure out what was going on.

We called campus security. No answer. We called again, several times. Finally an answer came- the power outage had affected all of campus, but the generators should be providing some light. Lucky us; our whole building didn't have a single emergency light.

The band played on, but they had to stop eventually, and when they did, it was up to us to make sure everyone got up the steps to the exit safely. Especially one wheelchair-bound spectator, who ended up being carried all the way up. The spirit of camraderie really was heartening.

So once the audience was gone, it was just us, the crew, and the ushers, trying our best to be of some use- using our cell phones to illuminate the deconstruction of the drum set, getting the precious microphones back to the booth, trying our best not to trip on the innumerable wires on the floor. We ended up leaving the snake box and a few mike stands and SLR cables behind. We'll come back for them in the morning and log more work hours. Can I get paid extra for this?

Anyway, I made my way back to my dorm by the light of more stars than the norm. At least there the staircases and halls were still lit. So the kids of our hall sat on the floor and had White Russians, trying to drink some milk before it went bad. I insulated my refrigerator, hoping that the 2 cartons of milk I'd bought today wouldn't grow sour before I could even use them.

Then the lights came back on. My printer, being the idiot it is, promptly woke up and printed a test page. My hallmates left for a party. And I'm sitting here with a the slightest aftertaste of alcohol in my mouth.

Too Tired For Titles

I'm being more picky about my work calls now. No more manual labor for me; I'm signing up for stuff like light focusing and board operation.

For 6-8 hour shifts.

Okay, I'm a masochist. A greedy masochist.

Today I pretty much had an hour of class, half an hour of lunch, 4.5 more hours of class, and an hour for dinner, then went to Philadelphia with a couple of friends for a performance of Tony Kushner's Bright Room Called Day. We missed our train back to school by about 30 seconds, and so went and got smoothies and chocolate cake while we waited for the next one. It was very yummy, but we got back at 12:45am, which pretty much meant I blew my entire Friday without checking on my feeds. So I took care of those, checked my e-mail, signed up for those work calls, and now I'm really ready to sleep, even if I have about a pound of sugar in me from that smoothie and cake.

I have 2 papers due on Friday! (Masochist, masochist, masochist.) At least spring break comes right afterwards, and not a moment too soon.

But All That Morgan Davis Wants Is Cream of Wheat

Sorry, that title is totally random. This is actually a "what I did today" entry.

Today I went through political science class with the solemn duty of poking the girl next to me awake whenever she dozed off. She'd stayed up late writing a paper the night before. Afterwards, I had half an hour of lunch before my crew shift.

I started out by stripping a snake cable, which is basically an audio cable with lots of smaller, insulated cables inside it. This isn't a very good picture, but once I screwed with the levels it became clearer:

Basically I had to strip the first few inches of foil off each of these cables, thread insulation onto each grounding wire, and put shrink onto the place where the foil ended so everything was insulated and firmly in place. I got to use a heat gun! Yay. :P Since I hadn't been below stage in this performance hall before, I noted with interest that the snake box was permanently attached to the ceiling. At my usual hall we have a much smaller snake box that we have to take down to the performance space and plug in every time, probably because we have much less cause to use amplification or any elaborate effects over there.

Anyway, since tech and grunt work are sadly conflated at the place I was working in today, after all the wires were done I had the joy and privilege of carrying heavy objects for the rest of the 4-hour shift, basically. Marleys were rolled, curtains folded, and scaffolding shifted. In the end I got to top it all off by sweeping the stage and washing my hands for several minutes before the dirt came out.

After work, I had a bit over an hour for dinner with a friend. She's also on the crew, so we gossiped viciously about the next act coming to our school. Suffice to say that the head of the crew called him "that crazy Scottish guy". I'm going try to catch a Tony Kushner play with her this Friday instead.

After dinner came chorus rehearsal, all 2.5 hours of it. I guess it's a good thing I'm building up my endurance, because the performance will be over an hour long with almost no rest. Oh, Brahms. Anyway, I'm proud to say I was hitting the high E even at the very end of rehearsal, and for an untrained mezzo that's not bad at all. :) I am, nevertheless, filled with admiration and a bit of fear of the sopranos, who were hitting the B flat above high E at the end of the night. Ouch.

So all I have left for the rest of the night is more poli sci reading and another stab at North and South. After Dickens and Emily Bronte, Elizabeth Gaskell doesn't quite come off as great literature. Ah, well.

Falling Down

Pennsylvania, thankfully, didn't get hit that hard by the Blizzrd Of Doom. (Seriously, is there any other name for a snowstorm that causes record accumulations in Central Park and actually includes lightning?) Anyway, where I am we got between 8 inches and a foot of accumulation- enough to make campus look gorgeous, but not so much that the drifts became unmanagable. So I decided to hike around and take photos. And, you know, not do my homework.

Remains of the Day

I just realized that I haven't made an entry this month,, which is a little sad. School has been a bit hellish this week, even by its usual standards. It might let up a little in the next few weeks, but it's not going to get significantly better. And writing about what essay I wrote today doesn't seem like the most scintillating way to go. Though I guess I could give it a go, just for the hell of it.

Today I wrote a short paper on Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights for my literature seminar. The book, various critical readings, and the paper were assigned on Friday, so I wasn't exactly long on time to complete them all. My really foolish mistake, though, was actually bothering with my readings for my other classes. Silly me. Everyone knows that seminars eat your brain for breakfast. Who am I to resist?

In other thrilling news, my wonderful parents got me an electric kettle, and I've developed a fondness for just-add-hot-water cups of soup. Now I have one less reason to ever leave my room. Hm, what else? I'm planning on begging my adviser to get out of one of my major requirements, because it's a) redundant, b) stuck in when my major was already underway, and c) guaranteed to be a class with 40-odd underclassmen and a few fellow seniors who are trying to stuff this last-minute addition into their schedules somewhere before graduation. If I can somehow escape it, I'm going to take dramaturgy instead, because dammit, I'm not going to have another chance to study theater unless some foolish soul decides to give me a fellowship so I can go for my second BA.

Sunny Day

Normally I have the flu at this time of year, or at the very least a runny nose. But today I was walking around in a T-shirt. Crazy weather, but I can't say I didn't enjoy it. I'm not much for winter, so any time there's a warm day I catch myself hoping for spring. Then I remember that it's January, not April, and I'm in the northeast, not California. *sigh* Still, I'll take one day's reprieve from the cold if that's all I can get.

Wimp

There was a mouse on my desk. I screamed, figuratively speaking, like a girl. The fact that I am a girl didn't make this any less embarassing.

The mouse, in terror, fled beneath my radiator, where there's probably a hole it uses to get in and out. I don't really want to look under there right now.

I Missed You So

As I flipped through my RSS feeds today, look what I found at the magnificent Baseball Toaster- an interview with John C. McGinley, otherwise known as Dr. Cox on Scrubs. And yes, he's a Yankees fan. *grins*

But the thing isn't all baseball talk- there's also an infuriating explanation of why my favorite hospital comedy's premiere has been delayed until next Tuesday. Read on for the incredibly stupid details.

Anyway, I have a gigantic Chanukah party to prepare for, so off I go. :)

Home, where my mind's escaping...

I'm baaaack! *watches as America cringes in horror* After thinking I'd missed my plane, being delayed for 2 hours due to "mechanical problems" (that wasn't scary...), completing about 30 Sudoku puzzles, watching the heartwarming endings of A Beautiful Mind, Seabiscuit, and Cinderella Man all in a row, and being extorted for a $3 luggage cart (shame on you, JFK), I managed to drag my exhausted butt past Customs and get home. Woohoo!

I've received a few Chanukah presents already, including way too much chocolate, which I'm trying not to munch all at once. I also went to my precious library and took out Watchmen for a school essay, a book on identity and the Internet for another paper, the first book of Neal Stephenson's Baroque Cycle because what I need is another 900-page techno-historical fiction head trip, The Red and the Black because it's referenced in A Little Night Music and I'm pathetic enough to think of that as a Sondheim product endorsement, and Preludes and Nocturnes because I've delayed my reading of Sandman for far too long. *pant* *pant*

You know what else I want? SHOWS. Namely, Sweeney Todd. Like, now. *twitch* Also, I have many movies to see. Brokeback Mountain, The Producers, Memoirs of a Geisha, Munich, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Syriana, Transamerica, Capote, The Dying Gaul, Match Point, Paradise Now, stuff I missed like Jarhead and Shopgirl if I can...uh, yeah. I'm not sure I even have that much money. BUT I WILL FIND A WAY. Because I'm back, baby!

Like Squeezing a Sponge

I'm trying to wring 200 more words out of my brain. Seriously, guys. You try writing 3,000 words of serious analysis on a given topic as it relates to the 1941 screwball comedy Ball of Fire. I mean, it's a cute movie with a well-written screenplay, but geez.

That's Over With

My film final consisted of a 1-hour writing session about one 5-minute clip of any of the movies we studied during the course. It went something like this. (All of my dialogue is internal.)

Me: Please not The Third Man. Anything but The Third Man.

...

Me: Okay, not Citizen Kane, either. Please?

Professor: Okay, the clip starts with the red light, so if we lined it up wrong, just ignore everything up until there.

Me: *thinks* Taxi Driver! Great!

*clip starts*

Me: Taxi montage! *furiously writes down shots*

*clip continues* *Travis enters a diner*

Me: Menacing black people! Woohoo! *scribblescribble*

*clip continues*

Me: C'mon, c'mon....SELTZER SHOT! YES!

And then I wrote a lovely essay and finished 15 minutes early. :)

Woohoo!

Guess who got a single-type space despite a crappy lottery number and picking midyear?

Oh, yes. That would be me. And my magnificent, wonderful proxy. *blows kisses*

Seriously, I thought I was going to be stuck in housing hell for the second year in a row, but now I have a room that's on-campus and non-smoking? How much better can it get?

Okay, okay, so I'm sharing a 2-room double with a guy I've never met, and he has to walk through my room to get into his. So I guess sitting around naked is out of the question. *le sigh* But other than that? Unless Mr. Roomie #3 has serious personality issues, I'm set.

*victory dance*

Ian McKellen's panto and the Tower of London. Also, chocolate.

I'm really, really tired. Just thought I'd say that straightaway. I was once again bored out of my ever-lovin' mind in class (thank goodness term ends in a week), so after scarfing a tuna sandwich, I was glad to be off-campus.

Small Beans

Drinking coffee when you're tired only turns your brain from a puddle of mud into a river of it. Sure, it's going somewhere, but who the heck knows what's going on inside. Same goes for continuously munching on gummi candy for 3 hours. Not that I'd know or anything.

My Totally Awesome Day

Okay, so the day didn't start off very promisingly.

A Night Out

Not long ago one of my flatmates had his birthday, so we all decided to have a big night out.

Sometimes I Hate This Place

England? Great country, really, but I have a couple of gripes at the moment. First of all, who the hell closes their library at 4 in the afternoon on the last Saturday of Reading Week, then 7pm on Sunday? It's Reading Week, people. The reading is done for a reason, namely the exams and papers due right afterwards. Like the paper for which I can't take out a stupid book because I'm never on campus when you deign to open the library.

And second, in what universe is heating from 8am-noon good enough when it's been around 40 degrees outside all day? Argh. As soon as I figure out a way to type anything longer than this entry when I can't feel my fingertips, I'll be sure to let everyone know.

Finally, this has nothing whatsoever to do with England or this fine place of education, but who the hell keeps burning things and making us have fire alarms? If indoor barbeque ended badly the first time, it won't work the 7th time either, buddy. When the weather was warm this could be considered annoying, but now it's grounds for assault.

Oh, and the paper? It's going great, really. *breaks things*

ETA- I HATE YOU AND YOUR SUBWOOFER, GUY NEXT DOOR. USE HEADPHONES!

Aaaah! Aaaah!

I walked on this bridge! I walked on it right after being freaked out by St. Pauls, as a matter of fact, so my memories of it aren't all that sweet. And now they're saying it was collective synchonization, not structural problems, that caused that nasty swaying when it was built back in 2000. Oh, god. That's so reassuring. *cries*

What?!

So here I am in merry old England, studying and doing the tourist thing, when an envelope arrives for me today from the TV licensing folks. "It is illegal to watch TV at [ room number]," the letter informs me. Well, okay. I don't even have a TV, nor do I particularly want one. But further down, things get more interesting:

"Warning: Our records show your address is currently unlicensed. As a result, it has been passed to our enforcement division, who will be starting an investigation."

...

"Of course, if you don't require a TV License, you can halt our investigation by writing us at TV Licensing, Bristol BS98 1TL. We will contact you to confirm the situation."

Uh, excuse me? I'm being investigated? What the fuck?! Whatever happened to actually having evidence of wrongdoing before starting some kind of criminal investigation against the clueless American? And why the hell should I have to pay for postage to write to them and proclaim my innocence?

Of course, the letter comes with a TV license application, complete with payment options and the kind offer of a 50% discount if I'm registered blind. Once again, I repeat- What the fuck?! What is this, a Mafia shakedown? They're not getting 1 pence from me, and if there's a way to avoid even paying for postage and an envelope to mollify those assholes, I'll find it.

Also, your grammar stinks, TV Licensing Dicks.

ETA- I've been informed that these vaguely threatening letters are common practice here, so I probably don't need to worry about somebody searching my room for a contraband VCR. The situation, strangely, has become no less aggravating.

Well, they called it intelligent...

"Does he not grasp the meaninglessness of saying a designer designed things that were designed?"

Thank you, William Saletan, for providing the most succint smackdown of an intelligent design advocate I have ever read. Because you know what? Even if your "designer" is a cosmic watchmaker rather than God, the theory is empty. It explains nothing and it can't be tested, and if that's not a textbook example of pseudoscience, i don't know what is.

Now I'm off to mail my absentee ballot. Mere distance and election board incompetence can't stop me from voting. :)

Achy Feet

I planned my day on the basis of looking at my map of London and seeing that three tourist attractions were very close together- St. Paul's, Shakespeare's Globe, and the Tate Modern. Great! I thought. One trip on the Tube will cover three places I've been wanting to visit.

Of course, I forgot to factor in the fact that I'm a wimp.

Cooking Chronicles, Part II

Okay, so after conquering the Great Chicken Frontier, the inevitable next step was beef. So today I made a highly successful bowl of spaghetti bolognese. Of course, first I forgot I had to defrost the meat, which delayed matters a bit. And at the end I realized I'd forgotten to add salt and pepper. And my mushrooms were locked in my neighbor's room (don't ask), so I couldn't use them. And I forgot to cook the spaghetti at the same time, so I had to wait for it after finishing the sauce. But in the end, I had a bowl of pasta that tasted just like home. Well, minus the mushrooms.

If I'd only had a bottle of vanilla I'd have made chocolate chip cookies, too. But I don't have one and there's no way I'm walking 20 minutes to the grocery store two days in a row. So the cookies will have to wait for some other time.

Fun note: The tomato paste here comes in tubes, like toothpaste. It's really fun to use.

The First Sign of Insanity

I've heard it said that the first sign of insanity is when you talk to your toaster and the toaster talks back. But now it's Yom Kippur, I haven't had anything to eat or drink in over 20 hours, and my hand smells like cake.

Being tempted to chew on your hand- that's the first sign of insanity.

Conquering Fowl

Today I conquered my last culinary frontier by finally cooking raw meat. Yes, I know I'm pathetic, but a combination of my mom's love of cooking and being on a college meal plan sort of stunted my skills at the "boiling water for pasta" stage. Over here, though, there is no meal plan, and though I've eaten out plenty of times, in the dorm I've been a de facto vegetarian. No more, I finally decided, and today I bought a couple of chicken breasts in the grocery store.

The next step, of course, was figuring out what to do with them. The only chicken recipe I know offhand is for schnitzel, and I didn't have any flour or breadcrumbs lying around. So it was off to the Internet to try and find out what to do. A word to the wise- don't search on Epicurious if you don't have a well-stocked kitchen. Most of the recipes called for things like capers and limes, which are nice but not exactly what I have lying around. Anyway, I found a recipe I could adapt to my needs, called my mom to confirm that no small animals (like, say, me) would be harmed in the making of this dish, and finally got to it.

All I can say is, thank goodness I was alone when I did this. It's not that I made a mess of things; it's just that it took a few steps and missteps for me to get everything together, and it was better that I wasn't watched. In the end, I didn't do too badly- the chicken was cooked through but turned out soft and moist. The fact that I used enough butter to choke a horse probably helped. Next time I'll add more salt and maybe something more extreme, like red pepper flakes, because it needed a little flavor. But at least I don't have to worry about self-induced anemia anymore. And isn't that what cooking is all about?

Head Out the Window

The guy across the hall from me evidently decided to spray some air freshener a few hours ago. Since then, I've been choking on the smell in my room, regardless of the fact that my door has been closed. I honestly thought someone had spilled a bottle of cologne or something. How much of that stuff can you spray?!

Ugh, I have a headache. Since our windows only open 3 inches or so, the linings of my nostrils will probably burn out before the smell is gone.

That College Thing

Alright, here's a summary of Day 1 of the Great London Adventure. I wandered campus so when I get lost in the future I'll at least to be able to recognize buildings, even if I won't have any idea of where I'm going. It cuts down on the feelings of helplessness.

I learned how to get into my room. I learned how to get out of my room (it's more complicated than it sounds.) I made two trips to the little convenience store on the first floor of my building. It's not half as well-stocked as I wish it was, but the first time around I got milk, cereal, microwavable macaroni and cheese, and some frozen veggies. Of course, after that grocery run I realized I had no bowl in which to eat cereal, and I didn't know of any place that sold dishes. On the second trip I grabbed paper towels, toilet paper, plastic wrap, and cereal that's pre-served in a plastic bowl, so at least I'll have breakfast tomorrow.

So. Then I asked around as to where I could buy a bowl, and after some confusion of accents ("Wait, a ball? Like a football?") I found that people didn't seem to have a sure idea of where to get dishes. I guess the English students all pack stuff from home. Because, you know, they're not idiots.

I set off on a journey to get dishes. After about 15 minutes of walking, I realized I didn't have my purse on me. Did I leave it in my room, or had it fallen down along the way? I had to retrace my path to be sure. But by the time I got back to the dorm (and discovered the purse was, indeed, right there) I was too tired to make the return trip. So the rest of the day was spent unpacking my things.

Until the fire drill. No, I kid you not. I spent 10 minutes in the cold in my slippers and T-shirt and cursed whoever burned popcorn/smoked a cigarette/whatever and set off the fire alarm. But at least I got to meet new people.

Oh, and I spent about half an hour trying to figure out where to put my socks and underwear. Right now they're in my laundry hamper while the laundry sits on the closet floor because the latter pile is smaller. Maybe I'll clear out a desk drawer...

Anyway, college is college is college. The examination of the dorm room, the unpacking, the creative use of insufficient storage space- it's all practically a ritual by now. So over here I need to buy toilet paper and a lot more groceries. It's still pretty much the same thing.

Of course, in the U.S. I don't get to take the subway on a noble mission to find a dish to eat on. *cracks knuckles* Marks and Spencer, here I come.

Arrival

I made it to London alive and pretty much in one piece- my main souvenirs from the trip are exhaustion and the feeling that my shoulder was almost wrenched out of its socket. Damn suitcases.

I'm in my room, which is by far the nicest housing I've had since I started college. Not only do I have my own bathroom, they gave me a mini-fridge. And it looks a bit less mini than the one I own, to boot. I have a rolling spinny chair! And air conditioning! Seriously, this is looking like dorm paradise. Going back to the States is going to be such a letdown in that respect.

All I've done so far is make the bed and wire up this computer. Clearly my priorities are in order- reattach myself umbilically to the Internet and get some much-needed rest. I'm a bit worried I'll miss some urgent orientation meeting, but no one gave me the impression that there's somewhere I'm going to need to be.

My "welcome" packet consisted of my swipe card, room key, mailbox key, and about 27 ads for clubs and bars. Or pubs, I guess. Alcohol! Alcohol everywhere! There's even an offer of a free pint of beer, which I might actually try. Even though I don't drink. And I think beer tastes like piss.

Anyway, I'm going to look through all my stuff again to make sure there isn't some terribly important informational seminar I'm skipping. Naps are no good when you have a 5-hour time change to adjust to.

ETA- Okay, a bit of the bloom is off the rose. Why are there no drawers in the closet? How the heck do the Brits store their socks? In a big pile on the floor? All I have is one shelf and a few hangers. Oh lord.

These Colors Don't Melt

Well, I'm back from a trip to our nation's capital, where I found anti-Bush signs in front of the White House, reminders of Cryptonomicon in the Spy Museum, and ducks in the World War II memorial. It was hot and disgustingly humid, as cities that were built in swamps tend to be, and the subway system was distressingly clean and simple in comparison to New York's. (There were only 5 lines and no suspicious-looking stains on the carpeted cars.)

Mostly, I wish I'd had a bit more time and a Segway while I was there. There really did seem to be a lot of extraneous grass between museums. And did I mention it was hot? I missed out on the American Indian Museum, the newer wing of the National Art Gallery, and the Library of Congress, which I've always wanted to visit just because...well, it's a gigantic library. Do I really need a reason? On the upside, there was a surprisingly small number of tourists at all the major sights for a summer weekend. Maybe everyone else was getting back to school. But of course, there were always just enough people to sit in front of the White House while I was photographing it.

God bless America.

Shiny!

I have a lovely new laptop, and one of my neighbors has been kind enough to leave their wireless network unprotected, so I'm busy downloading everything I can, from Firefox on down. *cracks knuckles* It's going to be a long evening.

Simple Things

In an act of intellectual masochism, I was about to sit down and translate Honor� de Balzac's P�re Goriot from French to English myself when I came to an interesting realization: The French copy of the book I'd requested on interlibrary loan was, in fact, in English.

*kicks things*

How hard can it be to give me a copy of this book in French so I can make myself suffer for hours on end?

***

Anyway, the countdown to the Great Computer Switch has begun. My new laptop should be coming in four to eight days, and I've already got a shiny new lock and carrying case to go with it. The fun part will be trying to get all the software, connections, and settings I've accumulated in two years of using this computer into the new one. If by fun what's meant is "hours of the mind-numbing tedium of watching installation progress bars."

Other than that, life goes on as before. I'm reading a lot- The Diamond Age: or, A Young Lady's Illustrated Primer, by Neal Stephenson; Ma Rainey's Black Bottom and Two Trains Running, by August Wilson; and Cards on the Table and After the Funeral, by Agatha Christie. The Yankees are being carried by such luminaries as Aaron Small and Shawn Chacon, which says everything you need to know about their playoff chances. And the logistics of my trip to London are still an amorphous haze.

Fear For Nothing

It's funny- London started out as the "easy" choice for a foreign-study program. It was English-speaking, foreign but not too much so, and had the closest thing I could get to New York's theater scene. Now it's getting suicide bombers at a rate that would make anyone sit up and pay attention, even if most of them haven't succeeded.

Of course that's a small and selfish perspective on everything that's been happening in England, and of course I'm still going in the fall. But I wonder if anything has changed? I mean, what can I do that I wouldn't have done anyway? I've had "report unattended packages" pounded into my head for as long as I can remember, and avoiding mass transit is out of the question. So all I have is this anxiety that can't be acted upon. I can only give terrorists the mental middle finger I've been giving them my whole life and never, ever start blaming anyone but them for what they do. Same old, same old.

Lenses

After weeks of reading Oscar Wilde, Chaim Potok, Agatha Christie, and Philip Roth, I finally said, "Enough with Englishmen and Jews" and deliberately set out to get other kinds of authors in the library today. Naturally, I ended up snatching more than I'll probably be able to read by the due date, but that's okay.

The results of my diversity-oriented haul? A bunch of August Wilson plays, the book of A Little Night Music, and judicious sprinklings of Neal Stephenson, Gabriel Garcia-Marquez, Roger Angell and Yasunari Kawabata. Some sci-fi and baseball essays should be a good mental pick-me-up. Of course, I have to finish Zuckerman Bound first. It's good stuff, but there's only so much Jewishness even I can take.

Taking advantage of a newly widened rush policy, I saw Glengarry Glen Ross last night. To be completely honest, I may or may not post a review. But I will say it was interesting to see a play after seeing the movie adaptation. For some reason, I usually like to go into theatrical productions with as little back information as possible, but if a movie is based on a book I'll try to do the reading first. Just me being strange, I suppose.

Oh, and I knew the Yankees' division lead wouldn't last. But sometimes it stinks being right.

Freakish Fancy

I've lost 6 pounds since the school year ended, but had a dream last night that I'd lost 13. The dream also involved several zebras and a game of cricket, the fact that I know nothing about cricket notwithstanding.

So, anyone want to inerpret what that means?

Moments of Insanity

So I was worrying about my future, and decided to really look at what I can do once I graduate college. It turns out that a remarkable number of "entry-level" jobs actually require a year of experience. Also, there's programs for getting your J.D. and M.A. at the same time. My inner academic masochist was really happy to see that.

Yes, I'm insane. Shut up.

Shiny New Things

Just downloading a trial of Fireworks makes me want to create all kinds of web pages just so I can put shiny interactive graphics in them. Why should I let a complete ignorance of the workings of Javascript stop me? Man, I'm pathetic.

Anyway, when I'm not making lovely image maps with rollovers at work, I've been doing my usual summer vacation thing- read, exercise, sleep, and on occassion, watch a rerun of Veronica Mars. There's a good chance I'll be seeing As You Like It at Shakespeare in the Park, and I'm already planning my list of shows to see at this year's Fringe Festival.

The Yankees still suck, and will continue to suck. Barring some kind of mind-blowing trade that'll get them a real center fielder and pitching that doesn't stink, that is. Really, it says something when my highest hope is that they'll stop playing Tony "Worst Hitter in the League" Womack, doesn't it?

I Win

So, evil printer, you thought you could defeat me? Well, thanks to the power of Google and the Microsoft Knowledge Base, I am victorious! No longer can you spitefully block me from using any printer at all just because I uninstalled you. My print spooler service no longer depends on you, sucker. Bwahaha!

The lesson, as always, folks: Never, ever install a Lexmark printer on your computer. Ever. Unless changing registry settings and using the command prompt is your idea of a fun way to spend an afternoon.

Catch Up

Okay, I realize I didn't exactly post for...well, a month. I started a bunch of entries, never finished them, and kept telling myself I'd write again once I did. Anyway, that excuse only works for so long, so here's the roundup of what I've done between leaving school and my last entry:

Shows watched:
Perseus
The Apple Tree
Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
Dirty Rotten Scoundrels
The Pillowman
Spamalot
The Light in the Piazza
Doubt

Books read:
V for Vendetta, by Alan Moore
America (The Book): A Citizen's Guide to Democracy Inaction, by Jon Stewart et al.
Humboldt's Gift, by Saul Bellow
A Small Town in Germany, by John le Carre
Everything is Illuminated, by Jonathan Safran Foer
In the Beginning and Davita's Harp, both by Chaim Potok
The Big Four, by Agatha Christie
The Golem: As Told By Elie Wiesel, by Elie Wiesel
Mrs. Dalloway, by Virginia Woolf

I'm currently in the middle of reading Zadie Smith's White Teeth. I've gotten my hands on a copy of the original London recording of A Little Night Music, which has such glorious sound quality that listening to it is akin to discovering that score all over again. Thanks to winter_baby, I've watched all of Firefly and Veronica Mars, and I'm starting in on Wonderfalls. I've been working in web design, listening to every Yankees game I can despite the team's overwhelming mediocrity, and generally trying to squeeze everything I can out of this summer.

And today? I donated blood, so I'm a bit light-headed. But at least I have an excuse to be sedentary for the rest of the day, other than my general laziness. In conclusion: the Yankees really do suck, the Tonys are mediocre, Veronica Mars (along with Scrubs) is the best show you're not watching, Saul Bellow's appeal escapes me, and Jennifer Holliday performing "And I Am Telling You" is about as close as you can come to a religious experience in musical theater.

Beautiful Day

Four exams, three papers, and one concert down. I am officially finished with my sophomore year of college. Now I just need to pack. Uh...later.

Genius at Work

Clearly, the best place to hold a long personal phone conversation is right in front of the individual study rooms in the basement of the science library. During finals period. Just like the best place to giggle and belch continuously for an hour is on the third floor of the main library...during finals period. Because seemingly everyone in this school is on a mission to make sure I can't find a quiet place to study. During. Finals. Period.

And no, locking myself into one of those individual study rooms for seven hours straight did not drive me crazy. Not a bit. It's just that next time someone decides they can't resist yakking about their travel plans when I'm trying to work out a least squares regression line, the consequences might involve non-traditional uses of a mechanical pencil.

What's New

Let's see, what's been happening? I finished my music history paper, the Yankees still suck, my neighbors mysteriously have the time to chatter VERY LOUDLY while my roommate and I work constantly, the weather is still way too cold, and, uh...I had to completely revamp my Queen Mary course schedule. So, that's been my past few days.

Also, I've had near-constant cravings for grilled cheese sandwiches since the weekend. But there's only so many times you can eat those, right?

Right?

What I'm reading today: Gender and Language in Chaucer, by Catherine S. Cox

Donna Nobis Pacem

I had my final classes today, and spent the evening performing Bach's Mass in B Minor with the choir. My voice is shot and I'm completely exhausted, but that's three end-of-year events down and six to go. Four exams and two papers. I can do this.

Easily Pleased

Okay, so I still have 2 essays, 4 finals, and a new London schedule to worry about, but as usual, something shiny has popped up to distract me. I know I'm hopelessly behind the times, but RSS feeds? Very nice. I probably won't be using Bloglines to read LiveJournals- my Friends List is better for that- but how nice is it to stick all the Xanga, GreatestJournal, Movable Type, Blogger, and news sites I read in one place?

Sadly, I have 81 feeds right now, 36 of which are from LJ. The others are various news, baseball, theater, and movie sites, a few weblogs, and, well...any place that'll give me a feed when I click the clicky button. Seriously, never give me anything with buttons; I'll be occupied for hours.

In other meaningless news, I think my mouse is going crazy on me. I really don't know what I'll do if it conks out altogether. Probably something involving tearing my hair and jumping out the window.

Rain of Frogs

My day started innocently enough- I lost track of time a bit but still managed to make it to Old English. I got in a good comment during Constitutional Law. I picked up a copy of The New York Times and had a bagel and avocado from home for lunch. Now, I was feeling pretty satisfied with myself, and that's when the trouble started.

I went downstairs to transfer my clothes to the dryer, and realized I'd locked myself out of my room. I hauled my laundry basket, wet clothes at all, to all four floors of my dorm, looking for an RA to let me in. No such luck- I had to call campus safety instead. So I did, and the cheerful lady at the other end of the line told me to wait by my door. So I did. For half an hour.

Now, finally allowed in my room again, I checked my e-mail and found that next year's schedule for Queen Mary's English and Drama department was here. Off I went to check the thing (Conveniently in PDF format. Did I mention I hate PDFs?), only to realize, to my horror, that all the classes I had planned were no longer available to me. Yipee! Now I get to schedule and beg the heads of department at my school for pre-approval all over again! And really, what's more fun than that?

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to break something. We have our final chorus dress rehearsal tonight for a concert on Friday, I still haven't done my statistics homework for tomorrow, and oh yes- there's one week until finals. If I were actually keeping kosher for Passover this year, now would be the time when I collapsed in a gibbering heap in the corner. As it is, I'll probably be able to hold out until 10:30 or so.

I'm Not Listening

Okay, my roommate is back from the housing lottery, and she's seriously unhappy. I feel bad for her- she had a high number and now she's stuck on the waiting list because she didn't go for one of the aforementioned holes in a basement somewhere. But it's really not fun to listen to her ranting to her friends on the phone about how she can't stand having a double and must have her own room, so she chose the waiting list over sharing a room. Come on, woman! Roommate sitting five feet away from you! Oy.

Balloon

So, guess who volunteered for a Monday afternoon shift at work for extra money? Me! And now I'm so drained, for some reason, I barely made the walk home. It helps that today consisted of not sleeping, not eating, having to work the mixing board and recording devices simultaneously, then cleaning up by myself. And now I get to do homework. Joy.

On the other hand, I could be at the junior housing lottery, waiting miserably as all the good rooms get taken and people burst into tears at the prospect of living in a smelly hole in a basement somewhere next year. Instead, my roommate will pick a second-semester room for me in December from whatever's available, because in London I'm going to have a snazzy single.

Yes, I am smug and self-satisfied. Why do you ask?

Sunny Days

How am I supposed to take advantage of the spring weather and work outside when my school insists on having an outdoor taiko and gamelan concert during most of the afternoon? Just hearing that banging from hundreds of feet away in my dorm room is distracting.

Oh, well. Back to linguistics. In my room. While it's sunny out. In one of the few calm days I have left before finals. *whines*

I Got a Beautiful Feeling

Today I went to my mailbox and found:

My housing lottery number, which wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.
A package from home.
A Queen Mary College acceptance letter. I'm going to London in the fall.

What I'm listening to today: Oklahoma! (1998 London Revival)

Parry

They left bits of vomit in the stairwell, damn them. You win, party people...for now.

What I'm reading today: Twelfth Night, by William Shakespeare

What I'm listening to today: Bach: Transcriptions

Heads Up

The wind is blowing giant chunks of snow off the trees and making them explode in midair. I'm not sure I want to go outside.

*stomach growls*

Oh, dammit. I'm getting waffles.

Remind Me Why I'm Doing This

I spent all day today meticulously working out my school schedule for the next two years, reading up on case law regarding prior restraint on speech for constitutional law, and doing homework for statistics. Finally, at 7:30 I decided I would go to dinner. I put on my coat, hat, scarf, gloves, and boots and trudged my way over to the sandwich shop, only to find...it was closed.

Oh yes. See, that's the thing they must have forgotten to mention in the inclement weather policy- while classes won't get cancelled unless the professor gets stuck in his or her driveway, food can cancelled any old time. So my dinner today consisted of a bowl of Cinammon Toast Crunch.

I have a headache.

Edit: But wait! There's more! I spent 45 minutes trying to untangle all the wires behind my desk because my printer wouldn't work. Really, nothing tops off a day of intensive reading and starvation quite like crawling around in a corner trying to find a loose connection. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to do something productive, like banging my head against the wall.

Amoeba

The questions I'll be asking myself in two years, no doubt. What do you do with a B.A. in English? The only things that spring to mind are "English teacher" or "writer." I'm not going to be certified for the first (nor do I particularly wish to be), and I don't even know what the latter means. Journalist? Novelist? Columnist? Poet? I doubt I'm good for any of those things.

Oh, well. That's why I'm graduating in 2 years, I guess. For now I've got to decide my course schedule for those remaining 4 semesters- and heck, I've got to pin down my last class for this semester. History? Boring. Semantics? Threatens to be mathish- predicate calculus? Eek. And morphology? Three hours long on Friday afternoons. I almost fell asleep shopping it. I'm going to try to sneak into a Don Quixote class next week, and barring that, I might finally cave and take music theory, which will at least help me if I go for a music minor. I refuse to compromise and just settle for my boring history class because I'm already registered for it.

Okay, end of boring class contemplation. What else is happening? Well, it's cold. Not quite to the point where I think my extremities are going to smap off, but getting there. And we're getting snow tomorrow! Yay! Or not. At least while I live on campus I don't have to shovel. I still have a phobia of slipping and falling on my butt, though.

Today I auditioned for the chorus and got in- the audition was really a test of minimal sight-reading competence, and after a semester of musicianship that wasn't really a problem for me. Anyway, the choir director kind of hinted that the orchestra was always short on violas (suprise, surprise). But on the other hand, I also saw the audition sign-up sheet, including the solos people were going to do. All concertos and sonatas. I'm a violist, dammit, not a soloist. I've barely had solos within larger orchestrations, let alone a whole sonata to play.

So the moral of this entry? I'm completely spineless, feckless, and everything-else-less. I really need to do something instead of sitting around thinking about it. And I'll do that- as soon as I figure out what it is I'm going to do.

Back to School

One of my favorite quotes ever, and one I'd like to toss at more than a few self-righteously 'patriotic' citizens. And while we're at it:

Anyway, I'm back to school and being drowned in reading for Constitutional Law. The syllabus for that course is 42 pages long. No, that's not a joke. Luckily, my next class is The Beatles, a course for which I'm so prepared I've already read two of the textbooks. Ah, music department. How I love thee.

In other news, I'm investigating the possibility of going to London for a semester next year. I was actually leaning toward going to Australia or even France, but then my dad made the mistake of mentioning the West End. Suddenly, my decision looked a whole lot easier. So, Kate, how's it going over there?

Happy Winter Solstice!

Actually, no. Very unhappy winter solstice. Because I'm freezing and this house never warms up and I can't feel my toes. Hrmph.

Chag Sameach

Nothing says Chanukah quite like doing musicianship homework and going grocery shopping, don't you think?

What I'm reading today:A Very Long Engagement, by Sabastien Japrisot

Sad Stuff

There are few things more pitiful than a salad bar with no vegetables. Brother, can you spare a tomato?

What I'm reading today: Everything for Sale: The Virtues and Limits of Markets by Robert Kuttner