Hi!

Well, this little blog thing started as a way of keeping in touch with people while I was abroad and then died a little when I was back home. Since I'm away at school now, I think I'll revive it to it's original purpose.

So today marks the end of the second week of school. Which is a scary thought. What, two weeks?! Really?! Crazy! I feel like I've spent each day scrambling after an extra hour to get everything done. I like school. I like my classes. But the workload...is truly staggering.

Of course, this is all my own fault because of course I cannot do the sane thing and take a light course load first semester. No. I have to take not just third year Japanese, BUT ALSO fourth year Japanese. And Arabic (first year). And Intro to Islamic Civilization. And a couple of classes that aren't as intense. But that wasn't enough for me, either, so I'm joining the crew team. Two hour practices everyday except Sunday? Pish, I didn't need any free time anyway. Or the use of my leg muscles or hands.

If I speak honestly, though, my lack of free time has a little to do with the enormous amount of homework and a lot to do with my habits of waiting to do it until the last minute. These first couple weeks, I've been feeling out what I need to do and how. I think next week will be much better, now that I know the rhythm of the classes and what needs to be done when. (It also helps that I now have the syllabus for every class, something I didn't have until Wednesday. When I finally got the syllabus for the last class on Wednesday, there was a "Wait...this is week two...there's a test in two days!!!" moment.) I will let you know how my time management skills step up to the plate.

So tomorrow is the first practice on the water for crew team, and I am very excited. Up until now we've been learning the motions of rowing on the rowing machine (hereafter referred to as an "erg" upon which you "erg" or perform "erging" (ergging?)). Which, frankly, is boring. Crew is perfect for me since I cannot run at all on my leg, and rowing is completely non-impact. But it also means that while the rest of the novice team splits their time between erging and running, I just get to erg. Alot. Lots and lots of erging, which is where the comment about hands comes in: I'm developing calluses, which is great, except that it's going through the blister stage at the moment, where the skin peels off and leaves painful little pink baby calluses behind. But hopefully once I actually get in a boat and fully understand the point of all this erging, it'll be much more bearable.

Right?

I Didn't Laugh Because I Didn't Want To Encourage Him

him: "So, when are we going to hang out?"
me: "I don't really think we're going to..."
"Why not?!"
"Well, for one thing, I cannot think of anything we would possibly do."
"We could fly kites!"
"Well, kite-flying is fun,"
"...on I-95"
*pretends to not have heard*


And on the reason I post rather infrequently:

MONDAY, schedule:

4:30 AM: wake up
5:00 AM: Leave for work
5:15-8:45 AM: work in the bakery at Perkins
8:45-10:00 AM: commute downtown
10:00 AM-5:00 PM: Work desk job
6:00 PM: Arrive home.
6:15 ish PM: Go out with friend for dinner...

There Was Supposed To Be A Picture

I was intending to publish a picture of the kick-ass peach tart I made, but couldn't get a decent picture. In person it looks good, but apparently fruit tarts are not photogenic. At least for someone of my skill level. But let me tell you people, it was perfection...warm, perfectly textured, the perfectly ripe peach flavor balancing nicely with the cookie-like crust and cinnamon/allspice/ginger spices. Add some ice cream, and I don't want much more out of life.

In truth, I've been a little stressed lately, and I find working it out in cooking helps relieve that (also, my family appreciates it). I made this strawberry shortcake (except with four layers) from Smitten Kitchen on Sunday, and my peach tart today, along with some really nice roasted potatoes and green beans to go with the barbecue chicken my dad made for dinner. I love the moment when a person bites down on something I've made and the realization that they are experiencing something very good just crosses the face in an expression of bliss. I love that. I love feeding people. Kind of like Sunshine, except without the angsty vampires.

When I took the job at Perkins, I was hoping to satisfy that love in a constructive, profitable manner.

It's been a little frustrating. When I inquired about the job, the nice lady at the front desk assured me that they made stuff from scratch. Apparently she has a very loose definition of "scratch"...for muffins, I portion pre-made, frozen batter into muffin tins. For pies, I decoratively apply whipped cream and various toppings to premade, frozen pies. For cookies, I put premade, frozen, shaped cookie dough onto cookie sheets. For brownies...are you sensing a theme here?

I could make the exact same things from scratch in not much more time and it would be ten thousand times better. My father half-jokes that I could finance my college
education on my baked goods. This job makes me want to try, in the sort of "This is how it should be done!" kind of despair.






PS To everyone who wants to know how my mother is doing (she had surgery for acute appendicitis), she is doing okay. Stomach muscles don't recover from being cut very quickly, and since you use them for everything, it's pretty painful. But she'll be fine in a few weeks. Maybe more like a month and a half. We really appreciate all the prayers and thoughts.

PPS I didn't post pictures of my leg post-scraping because there was nothing to post. No bruising, not even redness the next day. I definitely felt gypped. What the use of undergoing torture in the name of physical therapy if you don't have anything to show for it the next day?! Geez.

The Purple Plastic Implements of Doom

Woke up this morning

After another one of those crazy dreams

Oh nothing is going right this morning

The whole world is wrong it seems

Oh i guess its the chain that bind me

I cant shake it loose these chains and things

Got to work this morning

Seems like everything is lost

I got a cold hearted wrong doing woman

And a slave driving ball

I cant loose these chains that bind me

Cant shake them loose these chains and things

Just cant loose these chains and things

Which pretty much sums the first portion of my day up.

The second portion? "The purple plastic impliments of doom". Pictures will follow tomorrow, where with any luck my leg will be a nice dramatic shade of purple. To match the things that made them that way.

Perhaps I should back up and explain. I tried to find an article to link to but couldn't; it's called "scraping" and, well, it's exactly what it sounds like. They take what is basically...um...a long caulking blade. Except florescent purple. Then they drag--scrape--this along the injured area. The idea is to, in essence, reinjure it so it can heal properly and quicker. In my case, scar tissue is also worked out. This hurts.

At the moment my leg is pretty red, and the long-term bruising I've had since I orginally injured the leg two years ago is more pronounced than usual.

I kind of want a really dramatic purple and black and blue reward for my troubles. Like a trophy, only alot better at inducing sympathy. Because I'm a sympathy junkie...but I can give it up ANYTIME I WANT TO. Seriously.

Ask and Ye Shall Receive

In case anyone is interested: there's a strong possibility that I'll get to take the Tolkien and Lewis class I wanted after all! I emailed the professor and expressed how much I wanted to take the class. She emailed me back saying "show up to class, someone usually drops out, and if not...maybe we could work something out."

This is extremely exciting for two reasons. One because, c'mon, it's a legitimate reason to study Tolkien and Lewis (Not just read. You don't understand. I'm the the person who owns a comparative study of the two authors already, the kind that's in dry scholarly language, and enjoyed reading that. I'm that person, the one who's taken notes on Lewis' essay The Weight of Glory to be sure I was properly understanding it. I revel in my geekiness) Also, this validates my life philosophy, which is that you have to try. Just ask! I'd tell my friends when we wanted to have a sleepover. "Maybe it is too late and the parents will say no. But maybe they'll be in a good mood. What do you have to lose? Just ask!"

So, I reason, maybe I'm too late to take the class, but if I ask, politely...maybe the teacher'll be inclined to let a student who really wants to study in--because I can say for myself, it's far more of a joy to teach someone who wants to learn. She might say, "I'm sorry, closed is closed," but she might not. It turned out to be that she didn't. I had to ask to find out, and I'm glad I did.

The principal of "Just Ask" is lacking in the general way of things. Sometimes people think to themselves, "There's no way, I'd never win/get accepted/become friends with him; so I might as well save my energy and not try." The biblical axiom of, "You do not have because you do not ask" bears out: they don't have everything they could from life because they don't ask anything from life. Maybe they did ask once: tried a business, a relationship, a school, and got rejected. The thing with asking is, sometimes--oftentimes-- the answer is "no". Sometimes people can't shrug it off and try again: sometimes they become bitter about it, and believe that because that's what happened once, that's the way it's always going to be, so they stop asking for things. But they still want something. But since they're not asking, reaching, or trying for it, they don't receive it; but they become convinced that that is further proof that they wouldn't have gotten it anyway. In a sort of savage way, they feel vindicated. The cycle continues downward from there.

I'm not being judgemental. I'm not touchy-feely "oh, if you believe in yourself you can do anything" types. At all. That is a myth that makes me aggressively sick to my stomach. But I do think that when you're negative on yourself, you make self-fulfilling prophecies.

I also think that there are two reasons for not asking. One is that some people, odd as is it may seem, really derive a sort of bitter enjoyment of feeling downtrodden and unlucky. They like to feel sorry for themselves. It's a seductive pleasure I've sometimes struggled with. I honestly think it's a tool of the Enemy. It makes us focused on ourselves and our petty issues instead of God. It makes us angry towards other people: towards the people who didn't give us what we wanted, towards people who did get what they wanted. And if you think that self absorption and anger can't be twisted into soul-destroying levels, I have some swampland in Florida I'd like to sell you.

The second reason people don't ask is a little more logical. They are content to be part of the masses, because that's safe. It's scary and uncomfortable and even painful to be something more, something better.

Some people don't ask because they're afraid they'd get what the asked for.

Last of the Italy pictures

Except actually they're Germany, not Italy. We stopped in Dragonsburg (um, I'm actually pretty sure I'm getting this wrong but that's what I heard it as). It was around 6:45 in the morning and COLD. I mean really really COLD. Like you know the earring I have in my cartiledge? It was so cold that sucker froze, and let me tell you, that hurts. Seriously.

Anyway, (of course) we had stopped to see a cathedral, but it was Gothic instead of gilded. I found it much more impressive, especially with the spires towering up to disappear into the early morning mist. (If I may brag a little, these are two of my favorite of the pictures I've taken.)


Inside it was that kind of half-light that simply does not work in pictures, but in some small areas I was able to use flash to get the image. Here's a well in the cathedral. I guess for sieges? Honestly, I have no idea why, but I think it's really cool.
And here is a small pulpit on one of the pillars of the main sanctuary.
At that's really all folks for the Italy Trip pictures.

Rainbows!

I have been anticipating (and putting off) the necessity of buying an SD card reader, believing the cord that connects my computer to my camera to be having a wild time without me somewhere in Europe. Unfortunately for the cord, but fortunately for me, what really happened is that it got cold feet and hid in my father's music paraphenalia box instead. Therefore I am pleased to once again have the capability of showing everyone snapshots of my life. bwahaha.

One thing I think is important, and that I don't do enough, is to notice the little things. Little beauties and kindnesses etc. etc. etc. I don't want to tarnish my reputation as a slightly (cough) cynical, definitely non-mushy type, because I don't tend to think in daisies and roses. But I do love to take moments to pause and watch the sparrows that sometimes come to rest on the bushes outside the computer room (ex-schoolroom) window, or examine the butterflies that come to those bushes with the flowers by the door (botany is not my strong subject, okay?!).

One of the little quirks of my house that I really love is that at certain times and conditions, the sunlight coming from the main bathroom upstairs sometimes filters through that window in just such a way as to create a little rainbow on the door of the linen closet.
I love coming up the stairs and being surprised by the unexpected splash of color.