Cheerios are Better with Bananas

Filling my tummy in the post-holiday binge: Why I've stayed inside and adapted to my kitchen.

2012-01-08T13:31:00.002-06:00

I know in my last post I didn't reveal any of the particularities of this year's holiday activities, so therefore, I am going to attempt to amend this. In short, for the once rare chance in my life, I didn't go any where, do anything, see anyone at all. Given my now lose proximity to my hometown across the border, I did make the short, albeit brief, two day trip to Montreal to see my childhood friend Gin, as this is the one time we meet up annually, no exceptions, bar death.

However, unlike in previous years, I did not voyage to Chicago to visit my mother's grave, nor did John and I travel to St. Louis for the holiday reunion with the entire Hagebak extended immigrant family. Of course, I did receive a overly-sweet-not-too-friendly phone call from Mrs. Hagebak regarding the reason her [almost]-daughter-in-law wouldn't come see them. As with every phone call from Mrs. Hagebak, her sweet persuasions in broken English eventually turn into lectures, and surprisingly, no matter the beginning topic, always end with the topic of childbirth (or some derivative thereof). As you can imagine, these conversations are always a fabulous experience, ha.

That aside, what was the reason for this change, you ask? The intrepid adventurer homebound for once; surely such a thing must be some form of heresy or treason, you think? Well yes, I will agree for me, it was quite odd. However, it all begin the beginning days of December, when John came a wonderful conclusion that we should stay home for the holidays, he wanted to have a, as he put it, "No-travel-winter" where we would for once enjoy the calm solace of our winter along the sea and revel in tea by the fireside. I naturally agreed in exchange for lutefisk, because yes, I can be easily be bribed with food.

So begins my holiday season of food. As a means of breaking in my quaint country kitchen and fighting my non-travel sickness, I baked up a storm. Which resulted in my eating up a storm. Which is now resulting in me running in the freezing Atlantic chill.

My kitchen here is not as spectacular as the one in our previous house, in short I would probably describe it as underwhelming. It is by no means grand, and given my busyness trying to revamp other, seemingly more pertinent areas of the house, the kitchen was kind of pushed to the wayside. However, despite my reservations and its lack of grandiose gadgetry and appliances, my kitchen has proved itself to me during these past weeks. It started with pies and moved onto cookies. Then it was breakfast eggs, scones, pancakes. After casseroles and pot pies. In short, I whipped a food frenzy.

As you can assume, John and I were not with hunger. Most days, without the need to go anywhere we slept in, ate late breakfasts and early lunches. We'd take walks around our expansive property line and bundle in for movie night and Scrabble games. We began and finished many of the things we'd been wanting to do since moving here. John finally unpacked and setup his studio in the unattached shed and barn next to the house. We cleaned up the attic and converted the space. I got around to picking up the jumble of paperwork that has become my life in research. It was nice, unexpected. Perhaps we'll try doing things at this pace again, because I kind of enjoyed it.

I can feel the sea salt in my hair: Why I've been gone for such a long long time.

2012-01-02T17:10:00.000-06:00

It's been a while, nearly seven months to be exact. Since my last few and informationally sparse posts, the summer has passed and along with it the fall. I don't really know what happened. Somewhere between flying off to France and the later in the ensuing madness, I somehow lost myself in the jumble of work, travel, adventure, some more work and work related travel.

Well, perhaps "work-related travel" isn't the best way to describe it. So, when the spring semester ended and with it my completion of the my higher education career in the Midwest, planned to move onto my future opportunities without looking back. In fact, I have. Since my arrival back into the States and my acceptance into a post-doc position along the upper northeastern coast, John and I have uprooted ourselves from our lovely home and moved, for what I am going to say will be the final time.

I must say, John was quite a sport about it. While I was all torn and semi-upset about leaving the house I had come to love and cherish in the past years, to live in a remote and sea-ridden land, in a house that at the time was only mildly quaint and sorely in need of repairs. However, after a complete overhaul, some very stern, intense discussion, and several bouts of emotional baking (on my part). I've come to enjoy the move. I've realized, among other things, that 1) living near the sea seems to have been what I has lacking in the Midwest, 2) becoming a pro at home repair was more natural and fulfilling than I thought it would have been, 3) moving 3 cats cross country is never easy, and 4) John and I are pretty much stuck with each other for life now (not that that's a bad thing).

John found a job at a nearby firm and I've begun the long, arduous haul of a persons stuck in perpetual research mode. I suppose things could be worse. I could be wandering aimlessly without a purpose or plan. Instead, I'm anticipating the cold weather and snuggling in by the fire with a warm cup of tea to pass winter days by.

Bonjour! Les Grandes Vacances.

2011-05-19T11:25:00.000-05:00

The spring semester has ended and I'm back in France along the summer coast! I'll be here for the next 6 weeks and posting as much as possible (with photos, hopefully)! After that it's a hop and skip to visit John's relatives . . . and who knows really? Maybe I'll actually relax and have a holiday?

Why the summer feels so near: Status Update.

2011-04-20T13:09:00.000-05:00

I've been busy, though it might seem that I'm always busy. Here's the good news though, the semesters almost over. Then it'll be onto better times doing research, seeing the world, and hopefully getting in enough naps to feel complete.

Moi? I'll be heading back to France as soon as classes end, so I'm going to be spending the next weeks refreshing up on some francais. After that? Who knows? I think John and I are going to go up to Scandinavia to visit his grand-family, but I'm still not really sure. I'm just kind of winging it and hoping everything works out, eh?

Why I saved the day: It's nice to know that I don't live with a robot.

2011-02-21T08:33:00.000-06:00

So, I woke up to the sound of a car alarm blaring. At first it was just a tingle in the back of my mind, but as I started to become cognitive of the world around me, the sound became clearer and clearer, morphing into the ever present repetitive "honk, honk, honk" that car alarms make. As I crept down the stairs, thoroughly awake, disappointed, and ticked-off, I tried to judge where the alarm was coming from, my own vehicle out in the drive way or perhaps the neighbors' down the road? Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, I knew whose vehicle it was; not mine, not the neighbors', no, it was John's and he was running around the house in hurried abandon trying to shut it off.

Apparently, the story goes as follows. John, on his way out the door in a rush to get to work, unlocked his car. However, rather than hitting the button on his automatic key chain with an "unlocked" figure, he accidentally pressed the red "alarm" button. In his startled shock and panic, he jumped and his keys went flying into the nearest bush. Panicked now, he quickly realizes he'll never be able to find the keys in the bush in time, so he rushes back inside to find his spare set to turn the alarm off and rush to work. However, upon meeting me at the bottom of the stairs, it becomes quickly obvious to both he and myself that he has no idea where his spare set of keys are.

Naturally, I did know. So, without saying anything, I promptly found them walked outside, barefoot and clothed in nightgown, and turned the alarm off. In short, I saved the day . . . or morning at least. It was quite a nice feeling as well, and afterwards gave me more than enough to chuckle about. I mean, John, one rarely gets to see him in this light; all disheveled, panicked, and flustered all to hell. In most cases, I'm usually the one in that position, and he's the calm, precise, and ever-neat rock that holds my chaos in place. Most people might consider him a cyborg of sorts, since he is quite robotic . . . with more than a smidgen of type-A personality, all of which I find even more intriguing given he's an artist, and aren't they all supposed to be disheveled and zany?

Well, since he was already late, John called into work and said he wouldn't be in until noon. I don't think he's in any mood to be around people . . . or perhaps he just has to reboot his cyborg systems from their overload and crash. Whichever, before I head into campus we're going to enjoy some blueberry-peach tarts and generous cups of coffee. But before that, I think I'll drift back into the daze of morning sleep.

It's like I stepped out into summer: Why the sky cleared and the snow melted away.

2011-02-18T23:56:00.000-06:00

Well, it feels like less than two weeks has passed since I was stuck in bed with the flu while the great old Midwest was shaken with the blizzard of a lifetime. Then we come to now, where I have bypassed an entire week of sunny 65 degree weather, people breaking out the springtime shorts, and the nineteen-year-old girls breaking out their sleazy hooker dresses.

Ah, yes! Springtime has arrived for a week. Today, I felt so much like my old self that I popped out my trainers and went running. When I got back, I felt so inspired that I cooked up a storm (naturally, to consume all the calories I just burned off), making eggy's in a basket (the greasy kind) and chopped fruit parfaits. Oh, how I love to indulge?

Why this post might lack in lucidity: Snow & sickness = Ultimate fun!

2011-02-05T14:14:00.004-06:00

So, I've fallen in a pit of despair. It happened two days ago. I had a pretty average day, you know work, class, work, drive home, nearly dying on the snowy-icy-slick road connected to my driveway. I felt a little . . . drained perhaps . . . all day, but whatever. I had enough energy to make apple and blueberry pancakes for dinner (which were delicious) along with sunny-side up eggs, and even put forth the effort to binge on some bacon. It was a nice meal. John and I love breakfast for dinner, and since I haven't had the time to even make breakfast in the morning for quite awhile, it was a nice change of pace.

Then, without notice, it happened. Yes, it's true, I projectile vomited. Turns out, as I later find out the next day at the doctor's office, I have the flu. So watch out, my fever seems to have subsided for a bit, but I'm still quite sick and writing this in one of my semi-lucid, awake phases. Of course, John keeps pumping me full of broth (egh!) and fluids, so I expect a quick recovery. He's also quite quick to point out that "he-told-me-so," when I, in a fit of lethargy, consciously decided not to get my flu shot, stating "I am superwoman. I have genes of steel," and noting that as a result of my given tendency of a child to touch every thing, disease ridden or otherwise, I have built up my immunities to all forms of sickness.

Obviously, this is not true. It's especially ironic given my proneness to shingles outbreaks and other forms of viral attack. Even more is my tendency to fall more often than not, which results in the slew of broken, sprained, and all-in-all injured body parts I have experienced over the years.

Well, now its off to sleep for me (again) and maybe when I awake up I talk John into making more apple and blueberry pancakes, since the ones I did eat didn't exactly stay in my system.

Why I can't find the solution to life: Secrets & an ending era.

2011-01-06T20:48:00.003-06:00

I feel as if for the past months I've been distant and as a result have neglected posting any of my experiences. Well, what can I say? A new year has passed, I spent the holidays with John's family as always, being sure to take my fill of the annual lutefisk feast. Finally a holiday passed without his mother (or any other family members for that matter) berating me about when John and I will finally marry and produce half-Norwegian, half-French Canadian (and Native) babies. I think John must have said something to them to make them not, he knows how uncomfortable it makes me. From that the new year passed, with a silent house (besides John and I), as all of our boarders have finally left and I have felt no need to replace them. We played our annual scrabble games (I won with a thudding defeat this year, unlike the previous) and relaxed with yummy delights and John mellow double bass tunes.

I'm finishing up my work at the university this semester, and after that I don't exactly know what my plans will be, or I should say "our" plans since John has already voiced his full preparation to pick up and move with, to wherever life takes me. I've already had some offers, on coasts doing research or otherwise. They seem . . . fulfilling. However, I really don't know. I kind of just want to take some time off a few months so that I don't have to think about . . . anything. Eh, whatever. I'm sure in the coming months everything will become quite clear. Maybe? Hopefully?

On the other note, if you didn't realize it from my statement about the empty house and my lack of boarders, with the holidays my brother finally left our presence. He's went back to Seattle to reclaim his dusty house and own squeaky (and in his words, more comfortable) bed. I was partially relieved, but not because I disliked my brother as a boarder. He was actually quite welcomed as a breath of fresh air from our past occupants. What I did despise were the constant telephone calls from his neurotic girlfriend (even though, she's actually really neat), because yes, Sep has (or maybe had by now) a girlfriend of many, many, many months that I didn't discover until his accident. It was quite a secret when it came out . . . makes me wonder what else he's hidden. Hm?

Why freeloading from your generous sister is such a crime: Let's go to Baltimore!

2010-11-23T12:09:00.003-06:00

I've kind of let this blog go loose. I suppose I've gotten too busy, what with the hectic school semester and my brother still freeloading off of my generosity. I'm taking a break for this week (starting right now) and going on holiday to Baltimore (or more like John's going to visit his sister and I'm tagging along). We'll see how this goes . . . I'll write more later . . . promise . . . eh.

Released.

2010-09-17T16:46:00.002-05:00

My brother, Sep, has finally been released from his hospital stay, to go out and rejoin the rest of society. I have to say I haven't ever heard him so ecstatic during a phone call before. I guess that's what weekly hospital meals will do to you. I first thing he did when he got out, apparently, was have our other brother Noel drive him to get a steak. I don't think I've ever seen Sep eat steak. He's more of a broccoli and mushroom kind of person.

Anyways, he's flying out here this Sunday to stay indefinitely, as of now. He hasn't exactly planned what he wants to do with his life now, and is still mandatorily recovering with his job, so why not? But . . . uh, hopefully, he doesn't plan on eating steak here. I don't do steak.

Pavement? I prefer dirt roads, actually.

2010-09-12T11:01:00.004-05:00

I saw Pavement last night, which basically equalled amazing and a notable mention, but I did happen to consume too much alcohol in moments of frivolity. So, I suppose now I'm going to make some strong coffee and shower vigorously, again. Concerts somehow always make me feel unclean.

Sweaty-sweat-sweat-mess.

2010-08-31T11:13:00.004-05:00

I've got a fancy luncheon to go to today. I've got to go change into my fancy shoes (i.e. a purple cocktail dress) and then run up the hill on campus to get there. So basically, I'm going to get all gussied up and forage my way up some hilly terrain in 90 degrees and 95% humidity. By the time I get there, I'm going to be a sweaty-sweat mess anyways. So whats the bother? Well, I'm going to have to put on my extra-strength deodorant and get ready for this mess. Ugh.

Side note. DBT, in two weeks. This makes my day a little brighter.

I wish I could eat this everyday!

2010-08-27T21:04:00.002-05:00

Why can't cake (and more importantly, chocolate mousse cake) be part of the major food groups of nutrition? One: it tastes wonderful. Two: it feels like you are eating something wonderful. Three: it make your tummy feel like you ate something wonderful. Therefore, in all senses of logic it should be wonderfully healthy.

Of course, my logic is not exactly the most reliable. I would also eat donuts for dinner if John would let me. I suppose I should stop binging on deserts and get to making some real food. Something with spinach and other moderately tasteful green things. I will say I have eaten some delicious real food in my lifetime, but still nothing compares to chocolate mousse cake . . . or donuts.

Comatose, Brain Damage, and Boredom: Why my life craves jellybeans.

2010-08-23T22:07:00.004-05:00

So, where do I begin? First, two week ago on August 6, Septimus finally woke up. I was ecstatic, naturally, as any sister would be regarding a brother's first semi-conscious moment in nearly a month. Three days later, he even began to lift from the semi-drugged state he was in when he first woke up. His eyes cleared from the morphine (or morphine knock-off) glaze and he started to do and say things resembling his old personality. He's in inpatient rehab now in Seattle and calls me everyday to tell me of his progress since I had to leave a week ago for the start of the new semester. It's odd to think of . . . Septimus, easily my favorite brother, had to become seriously injured before he would call me with any frequency. What does this say about him? Maybe he does have brain damage?

Anyways, life back in the mid continent is . . . to say the least, boring. I thought, oh, maybe things would pick up ever since leaving the life of hospitals and wound gauze and weird bodily fluids that come out of tummies, but it hasn't. I arrived home and slept. It felt like I slept for two days straight. John even unpacked my suitcase and did my laundry without my knowledge, I was so out of it. I guess I had wound myself up quite a bit spending every waking possible moment with Sep that I kind of went catatonic for a while when I knew I would have to anymore.

Well, on a lighter note, after I woke up from the deep-sleep, I binged on two of the best treats. The first being jellybeans! and the second being flan!

What can I say? I had been craving jellybeans for weeks . . . and flan? Who doesn't love flan? I think its the texture. I find it irresistible. This one turned out perfectly . . . so I gobbled it up.

Back, eh?

2010-08-15T20:07:00.002-05:00

Well, I'm back. No more Seattle. No more hospitals. No more readjusting wound gauze. But I guess now it's back to another semester. Woot, eh?

Crash, Burn, and then Crash again: Why I reget most things in my life?

2010-07-20T20:02:00.004-05:00

John just took me out for ice cream as an attempt to cork my muddled feelings towards my eldest brother. It turns out that, after a long, taxing, uncomfortable conversation with him, we will not be staying with him and his wife in Seattle. Instead we will be staying at my more laid-back middle brother Noel's pad. He's out of town for the summer, but is going to let us crash. So where I would normally bake myself into oblivion after such a hassle, John fixed everything for me. Grape and caramel are always the solutions to happiness.

So yeah, sorting that out has been a pain, but a little ice cream and sweetness sorted everything out.

Seattle? Again?

2010-07-20T17:41:00.003-05:00

So, yeah. Septimus was declared stable enough to be transferred up to Seattle, where he will undergo intensive inpatient rehabilitation. Pretty sweet for him, though I doubt he realizes it yet due to the extensive drugs still running through his system. For me, I just keep questioning my sanity in actually, willingly, booking my flight to the northeast and calling my eldest brother (and by-far the most perturbing) to say that John and I would be spending the rest of the summer term with him. Please, lob me over the head now.

On the plus side, I just found out that sometime in the next year's future The Strokes will be releasing a new album. So, at least I have to wait for in the future.

Still in Colorado, waiting.

2010-07-15T19:01:00.002-05:00

I am still in Colorado, waiting. For the most part, I have still been spending my day times hanging around waiting rooms, cafeteria nooks, and dormant hallways, as a way to pass the time I am not spending visiting my unconscious drugged-out brother. When I am not a hangabout, I am sleeping via pill on the lumpy bed at one of John's relatives holiday cabins in the mountains. I suppose I shouldn't complain about since, staying at the cabin in the woods makes it so I don't have to pay for a hotel bed that wouldn't rank much higher on the comfort scale.

On the plus side, I am getting some great mountain time in that I would have otherwise been without. This weekend, I'm going mountain biking with some old college friends, and well, I'm hoping sometime next week to get out on the water. Otherwise, I will be stuck on the inside in the perfectly filtered sterile air of the hospital. Dreary, I know.

A flight and a kayak.

2010-07-13T18:49:00.006-05:00

So yeah. It has been a . . . say. . . frustrating four days since my last post of photographs and wishes of music festivals. Later that evening, I received a phone call from informing me, that as my brother's emergency contact, I was being notified that he was in critical condition after sustaining injuries during an automobile accident, such that he was airlifted to the nearest trauma center in Colorado. Naturally, all of this news hit me at once, namely, because I hadn't spoken to Septimus in weeks, only vaguely remembering him mentioning that he would be Colorado in early July. So, there I was, only half unpacked from my latest adventure, running madly about the house throwing my suitcase contents back in place, while John, the dear, booked us the next available flight.

A plane ride and a rental car later, I'm sitting in an ICU waiting room being bored to death. Septimus has made a turnabout towards recovery, my other brothers in Seattle keep calling, harassing me about not being responsible enough to notify them, which was done purposefully to prevent an unwelcomed "hospital reunion" that my frazzled nerves would not have withstood.

So yeah, I might not make it to Pitchfork this year and well, I'll be crossing most other adventures off of my to-do list. Of course, I know it might not seem sisterly of me, but I might try and squeeze in some white-water kayaking while I'm here, something I think my brother might appreciate.

A brief overview.

2010-07-08T20:01:00.002-05:00

Here are a few photographs to sate your curiosity:

I might post more later . . . or I might not. I'm leaving for Pitchfork in like a week, so I might get a bit caught in the rapidness of my life, as I always seem to do.

Back from the West.

2010-07-07T20:01:00.002-05:00

Well, what can I say? I arrived back home two days ago deeply tanned, sunburned, and completely worn down. It took me yesterday (and most of today) to recover. Trip was awesome. Hiking was strenuous. Camping was exciting. John drove (mostly) and I picked out the soundtracks of our journey. Took a lot of photographs that if I ever get around to it will be posted . . . at some point. Wore out my hiking boots such that I'm going to have to go and have them resoled. Anyways, I just thought I'd, you know, let you know I'm not dead.

An ending that, naturally, comes with a vacation.

2010-05-04T22:30:00.006-05:00

Wow. In another week, one more semester, in a long succession of semesters, will be complete. Classes will have ended. Finals will be over. I won't have to worry about another office hour for nearly three months. Also, for once I'm not devoting the whole of my summer break to work. I'm going on vacation, an actual vacation, where all I do is mope about relaxing and drinking frilly mojitos. The thought of it makes me jitter with anticipation. I know I travel quite a bit anyway, for work or family or holiday, whatever reason sharing a thought out agenda, but there's something about going somewhere without strict purpose that brings joy to my heart. I don't know exactly where or how I will be vacationing (as of the moment, I'm thinking a southwest road trip) but the one known is that I won't be collecting field samples, spending gratuitous time with members of my family, or sitting through boring lectures. Another known and obvious plus, John will be on holiday as well, so he gets nominated to do most of driving. Woot.

Potted plants and the necessity of cleanliness.

2010-04-27T13:55:00.005-05:00

Well, the house is a mess. I haven't been cleaning, which I suppose has been caused by the spurt of freedom that I have been having from work as of late. Who knew, the price of time is complete inhibition with respect to household cleanliness? But I think the first step is having realized that I have kind of let everything go a little bit, so now I can move on, pull out a broom and sweep the mess away (metaphorically). The sad part, for me at least, is that everything hasn't completely fallen away and become messy or dirty; but instead, has fallen into this sort of cluttered disarray, where at first glance, everything seems okay, but in reality and at further inspection, there are these microcosms of chaos unlcean.

Now naturally, I am going to put most of the blame on John, who has come into season, bringing out the spinning wheel and clay from his workshop, to make all sorts of pottery. Now, the other side to this tale that I am less eager to tell, is that he's making the pottery at my bequest, so I don't have to spend exuberent amounts of money on this year's plant pots and containers. I somehow got it into my head, after reading far too many gardening and DIY magazines, that this year's gardening feat would be potted flowers and plants rather than the normal veggies and fruits that I go for (don't worry, I've still got plans for them too though). I started up all these different sprouts in the greenhouse, and I'm going to plant them in pots . . . that until John fires them, do not exist.

He's already started throwing them on the wheel and is planning to fire them sometime this weekend. Over the summer, while I was away in Europe, he added an entirely new installation to his workshop, so that he could unpack quite few of his old supplies that have been packed away since the move, however long ago.

Anyways, I'm excited. I get to start planting again, and well John gets to twiddle around with his gadgets in the workshop, win-win. Well, I suppose I should get to it with the cleaning and all. I'll think I'll work my way into it, starting by finding the table underneath all of my paperwork.

It's cloudy and raining, so naturally all I want to do is muck around outside.

2010-04-22T13:14:00.002-05:00

As I was walking up the stairway to the front door this afternoon, I slipped on the flagstone stairway and fell down it. I've had this problem before, as falling seems to be my natural state, so during the fall I removed the large, thorny bushes at the bottom of the stair way that always seemed to stop my fall and provide sufficient thorny pain. However, after removal, I never though past what would stop my fall once I past the former bush threshold. This morning, I found out.

I tumbled down the twenty-so steps of the staircase, rolled about a meter to the former home of the thorny bushes, and began to pick up speed as I slid down the steep muddy hill in front of my house's entryway. When I finally came to a mucky stop at the bottom of the hill, I was covered in grass and mud could look up the spans of the hill seeing the now wet and disheveled spattering of my belongings. Thankfully most of my paperwork was dropped before it could be throw down the hill with me.

So now, I've showered, cleaned up all of my belongings, and turned on the Silver Jews. Over the weekend, or whenever chance comes that it has dried up a bit and is no longer raining, I'm planting new bushes, or at least something that will act to stop my falling motion. Maybe trees?

Sleeping in the Stacks.

2010-04-07T10:15:00.004-05:00

I realized something today that I found oddly disturbing. In the five years that I have been living, breathing, and existing in the state that is my graduate student life here on campus, I have never been to the campus library, not a single one in the nearly 20 on campus. So yesterday, I left the office walked up the hill to the library door and walked through it to go and curl up in a forgotten corner somewhere. I was somehow transported through time back to the days when I was and undergraduate in Illinois and I would crawl into the stacks for the daily pleasure of naps and the smell of old worn books and dust. It was unnatural how easily I fell back into that routine.

The spot I found was on the fourth floor, east wing, among what I can only assume to have been the section on Asian literature, because all of books seemed to be written in Mandarin. I curled up and got cozy in the worn desk that I would assume hadn't been used by another person in a few months due to the fine layer of dust coating it. Then I put on some music, something aptly appropriate from my younger college days, Ted Leo & the Pharmacists. Then, I, almost poetically as if being drawn from the past, fell asleep.

Unnerved by Shifty Glances.

2010-04-04T20:33:00.005-05:00

Tomorrow I will finally be free. For the past week, I have been playing, rather uncomfortably, the role of hostess for John's parents. They have been staying with us for the week and will thankfully be leaving early tomorrow morning to go back to St. Louis. It's not that I don't or didn't enjoy having them stay with us, but honestly they kind of put me on edge. John, the assimilated son of Scandinavian immigrants, doesn't understand my unease, because to him his mother is just as any other mother. However, in reality, when he is away a work, and I am impressed on with the task of entertaining, she spends her waking hours berating me in broken English on the exact nature of our relationship. Then, after a hard questioning, she relays her take on our conversations to his father in foreign tongue, while they both exchange shifty glances in my direction. And of course, naturally, John just smiles and laughs when I relay these occurrences to him in the privacy of night after the elderly Hagebaks have gone to sleep. It's unnerving, to say the least.

Back to the Homeland.

2010-03-20T21:33:00.003-05:00

John and I are catching the flight home tomorrow, and naturally, I'm kind of not looking forward to it. Going back to a life, filled with greater levels of stress and anxiety than I have experienced the past week, somehow causes great pain in the pit of my stomach. Maybe I just expecting the eventual work-overload that will inevitably befall me in the closing months of the semester. For now though, I will live in the moment, anticipating the great joy of airport. I can only guess how many mixed passages I will read while leaning over strangers shoulders. Forecast for tomorrow: a blend of economic newspapers, dishy magazines, and the elusive, ever popular, romance fantasy.

A Side Note for the Week

2010-03-17T17:53:00.003-05:00

I'm still out in California. I spent the last four days hiking the trails with John and revitalizing my spirit with the salty breeze. Yesterday, I received a call from my brother, Septimus, urging me to leave the hiking trails for the last few days of break and coming up to Seattle to visit. With strong persistence and the ever eager John on his side, Sep got his way and tomorrow we'll be catching a flight north to stay with my brothers for a few days. Hopefully everything goes well and maybe, if I'm lucky, it'll be nice enough to hit some of the northern trails.

Why life isn't such a bummer: Waking up early, the fruits of baking labor, and a hike in northern California.

2010-03-12T20:23:00.005-06:00

For the first time, since the beginning of the school year, I am ahead of schedule. I have finished my work in the laboratory, outlined all my references, and in a whole have finished working on the research I have devoted my soul and being to for the past 12 months. It feels great. I was able to sleep in this morning. Albeit that I only woke up 30 minutes later than I would have typically, it still felt great to wake up in a state of being where I didn't have to rush and fumble to make myself feel more up to living.

I kicked it all off with a big bowl of fruit this morning, after which I indulged myself in the fine art making puffed pastry treats. I haven't had the opportunity to bake much lately, besides the rather unappealing custard tarts I burnt beyond recognition sometime last month (which was a devastating first for me having never burnt so much as a cookie in my life). I pulled myself out of the pit of baking despair, however, to produce some beautiful berry filled turnover treats. I was actually riding such a buzz that I also, to John's surprise and pleasure upon arriving home, made some delicious strudel.

Anyways, if I manage to keep up with life, the blog revival might occur. For now, spring break has arrived and I'm off to northern California to go hiking in the ocean side hills. Woot?

A short-lived revival.

2010-02-17T15:50:00.002-06:00

Well, my revival was short-lived. After the new year began (wow, it feels like forever ago) I went back to the grindstone of work and life and work and work. And well, now? I've actually just recovered from a bout a stomach flu, which left me debilitated in bed for nearly a week and a half. It was kind of nice, besides the vomiting and fever and well, vomiting. Anyways, I don't exactly know how long I am going to be on hiatus this time, but I'll be sure to pop in again within the month (hopefully). I don't know, life's kind of bringing me down right now, so, we'll see about the revival.

Alive-again with Lutefisk and Scrabble.

2009-12-31T14:44:00.002-06:00

Ah. My blog has not found death, rather, it has suffered through a debilitating illness for a lengthy period which it eventually conquered and has now risen, with the hope of being alive once more. My life during this period has been a blur.

I started the semester living in a freshly painted bright blue house with three other house mates and have ended it in a slightly less freshly painted bright blue house with the count back to its normal two occupants, John and myself. Dmetri, of whom I really haven't mentioned, is leaving the house to live in Seattle. Had I been a more avid writer, I would have mentioned him more, but he was a nice fellow that enjoyed cleaning and playing with my cats. Both of those traits being personality pluses.

I've finished most of my summer and fall research, and am now sinking into a writing fit, in which I think I will stay for quite a while. I really don't want to talk about it. Work makes me frustrated.

After the ending semester, I flew to Montreal for my yearly visit with my friend Gin. Montreal was nice, and since I improved my French so much over the summer, the inhabitants were much less snobby. Afterwards, I caught a flight back to Chicago and met up with John to go and visit his family. They were delightful as ever, with weather preventing many of the more obnoxious relatives from being there. I ate lutefisk to my fill and pondered over whispered Scandinavian conversations, that even when translated by John afterwards were left . . . wanting.

And now, in the present, I am curled up on my sofa with cocoa and marshmallows waiting for John to arrive so I pop out the bottle of wine and challenge him to a stirring game of Scrabble. Outside the weather has been cantankerous, which has caused me to feel as if I haven't moved or done anything productive in the past week.

For now, I'm read and think of high scoring Scrabble words.

Hmm, a thought, or so to say a death.

2009-12-03T17:12:00.004-06:00

I realize that I've been a little out of touch with this blog lately. Well, not lately, mostly since the summer, when everything in my life became so hustled and busy. Now, it is the end of the semester and I've been at my wits end trying to get everything graded and completed. In two more weeks, I'll be on a flight to Montreal to wash away my troubles with good company and unbelievable amounts of lutefisk. And maybe then, if everything works out, I'll pick up writing again. For now, this blog will remain dead.

Household Cleaners, Spare Spaces, and a Missing Honda: Why I am giving up on welcoming strangers into my home.

2009-10-19T10:36:00.007-05:00

So, after I came back from Europe in the summer, I got a little crazy and decided to rent out a couple of rooms in the house put less pressure on myself for the upkeep. Before it was just John and I, but we have since added two more people. The first was Dmetris, who moved in all the way back in August. He's a new grad student on campus and was looking for a place to stay, and I offered, naturally, after knowing him for only a couple of hours. This judgement has worked out on my part because, he's a wonderful housemate (even better than John) and acts as a live-in cleaner, for when I do not have the time to pick up after myself.

Since this decision worked out so well and because we had another available room, I decided mid-September to take on another housemate who needed a place to stay. She has not worked out so well and of course last night I was tasked with the awkward position of telling her she would half to move out by the end of the month. Of course, John and Dmetris has been pushing me to give her the boot since the beginning of October, but I thought if I delayed it they might forget about it and I wouldn't have to feel so badly about booting someone to the curb. However, things just got to a point where I couldn't deal with her anymore.

At first it was just the little things that bugged me (and I suppose the others as well). She was a little confrontational and combative, which made everything a struggle. I mean the second night after she moved in she threw a tiff about my cooking habits, relaying quite adamantly that I should prepare meals the whole house would enjoy, not just to satisfy the whims of my taste buds. It was kind of irksome.

Then, she started "borrowing" things. First, it was just pencils, paper, books. She didn't ask, and since they were such menial things I didn't bother to say much. Second, it was clothes, scarves, and coffee mugs. She didn't ask, and since they didn't were just aesthetic things I didn't bother to say much. Third, it was flash drives, printers, and laptops. She didn't ask, and I got a little angry. I mean any reasonable person would, when they go into their office and realize someone has taken off with their laptop without leaving a note. So, I gave her the "leave-my-personal-belongings-alone-speech" and she pretended to listen and agree.

So, Saturday, I wake up. For the day, I'd planned to go the market with John and then we were going to head out west a little for a day of hiking and picnicking to enjoy the splendor of the arrival of fall. I get everything packed up, hiking boots, picnic basket, yummy delights. Then we leave, or at least we were about to. As we walked out the door, down the front steps, and along the pathway, I realized something: my car was missing. Frantic, thinking my nearly new Honda Insight has been boosted, run through the list to possibilities, while interrogating a sleepy Dmetris about its whereabouts. Then we get a phone call. It's her. She's been in an automobile accident where she reared-ended someone at a stoplight, and of course, she wasn't in her vehicle, but mine.

Let's just say, she got booted immediately once the tow truck brought her and my slightly dented car home. Then I had her cut me a check for the damages. Anyways, thats what I dealt with this weekend. Afterwards, on my semi-anger driven buzz I made some excellent spinach quiche, put on some Sonic Youth, and made a day of it.

Eating brussel sprouts and cleaving my eye with a meat tenderizer: Why I've become a shut in for the day.

2009-09-28T11:02:00.004-05:00

AH! I need a break, really.

It seems I've broke out with another outbreak of shingles in my eye. I first noticed it Friday morning when I was putting my contacts in and I felt this abnormal scratching pain from the contact of the lens with my retina. I didn't think much about it, I just popped the contact out and wore my glasses. But then, the next morning, on Saturday, I woke up to find a rash of sores beginning to form underneath my eye and along my eyelid. Right now, let's just say, my eye is not a pretty sight. I look like I've been smacked in the eye with a meat tenderizer and then went for a roll in cornflakes . . . kind of gross really.

So, in light of this, I've taken the day off of work, school, and life. I'm going to become a vegetable, until I feel like I can deal with everything. In the meanwhile, I've put myself on a diet of Vitamin C, since apparently it helps the healing process. But no, I will not be drinking orange juice and etc. I hate oranges. I'm going more of the broccoli and brussel sprouts route . . . and I'm cutting tea out of my diet, since it inhibits absorption.

I've totally set my self up for a great day nonetheless. I put on The Hold Steady at about nine this morning and don't plan on changing it anytime soon, unless of course John comes home and I'm forced to change it to fit his mood (which in any case equals jazz). Tomorrow, I might go into work, if I'm feeling up for all of the comment about how awful I look. But for now, I'm feeling, I don't know, shut in?

The Gap in Time.

2009-09-23T16:09:00.003-05:00

It has been awhile . . . what can I say? I've been spending so many of my nights piled to the top with work and problems, that I sort of forgot to post anything new. It will probably remain this way for the bulk of the future. I just thought I would drop a line and let you know I'm not dead.

Picked tomatoes, turkey sandwiches, Gilgamesh in the garden, and a housecleaner named Dmetris.

2009-08-24T10:31:00.010-05:00

These are the views, as of late, from my life:

Quite quaint really, huh?

We have been bringing in quite a haul of tomatoes this season. It's seems we can't pull them off the plants fast enough, and better yet, we aren't having the aphid attacks my gardens are normally so predisposed for, so most of the veggies look healthy and bug-free. Now that the semester had begun again, and work is beginning to become the bane of my existence, I've been spending as much time as possible outside.

Gilgamesh, my cat, has naturally been making up for all the time we spent apart over the summer holiday. She now has picked of the knack of following my everywhere, standing directly behind me when I pause from walking, and mewing quite loudly when accidentally topple over her because of this. My other cat, Kawacatoose, seems to still only care about one thing: food.

I should go now, I have a class to be at in a couple of hours and I want to get some lab work in before that. I'm hoping that in a couple of weeks the rush of the beginning of the semester will have faded and my life will have gotten back to a more paced schedule.

On a side note, I'm also hoping the temperatures will begin to drop soon. I feel like I'm melting outside.

Love is like a bottle of gin, but a bottle of gin is not like love.

2009-08-18T09:06:00.002-05:00

As some might have realized, I've been on a Magnetic Fields kick. I've had the "69 Love Songs" (Parts I, II, and III) on nonstop for the past two weeks. There's something about the drone of the lyrical . . . romance that fits my state of being for the past weeks. In two days, the new semester begins and it is back to the grindstone for me. I've marked out my schedule, however, to suit a person of my stress level with nice compact breaks for power naps and sack lunches. We'll see how it works out. I resumed running lab work from all fieldwork over the summer last week, which began to allow my stress and workload meter rise.

I've straightened out everything here at the house, though, or at least straightened it enough out of the odd pit that it fell into under John's sole care during the summer. He spent most of his time in the studio, without bothering for much of anything while I was away. So, after I readjusted to time differences (finally) I began to wipe up the coats of dusts that covered everything, pulled all of the brambles out of the garden, and even repainted the outside of the house, an act done on whim. It's now a . . . fanciful blue, mellow like the sky.

Anyways, I should go. I took a pie out of the oven a while ago and am now hankering for a taste.

Yeah! Oh, Yeah!

2009-08-17T10:50:00.001-05:00

Some day soon, I might feel like writing something a tad bit more substantial. But for now, I'd rather not.

Home. Naps. Greenhouse Plants. Tomatoes.

2009-08-01T08:54:00.003-05:00

I have been home for almost two weeks now, most of the time during which I have slept in some form or the other. It's seems that after a summer of working, traveling, and being abnormally busy, I've become prone to napping every couple hours. There are two more weeks until classes and work resume again, so I'm just kind of loping around. Between naps I have been trying to remedy the garden situation that has become weed-ridden and overgrown in my absence.

I'll write more about the trip, Pitchfork, and photographs later. For now, I'm going to get my socks dirty by running outside and mucking around in the mud/dirt. I'm going to transplant all of the plants I have growing amok in the greenhouse right now into their rightful positions in the lawn. My beefsteak tomatoes are becoming too big for the plants and are about to force it to break apart and die. Woe is them.

The needle has landed.

2009-07-17T15:02:00.002-05:00

I am no longer venturing Europe. As of late yesterday evening I arrived back in Chicago. John was nice enough to pick me up from the airport, so I didn't have to get a lift from a taxi. I have to say it feels weird being here, especially that for the first time in weeks, I'm using English in gratuitous amounts. Anyways, I haven't written in a while, Graz was lovely. Bad Ischl was nice as well . . . as were all the friends I spent time in the company of. For now, I'm going to spend the rest of the weekend enjoying some great music and festivities at Pitchfork. I'll write later with more words and photographs.

"I am not in this world to live up to other people's expectations, nor do I feel that the world must live up to mine."

2009-07-08T18:06:00.003-05:00

Computer crashed and burned. Don't know why or how, but I'm going to have to have the IT guys look at it when I get home. I'm only thanking the heavens that I didn't send my Toughbook home express shipped with all of my other stuff. I guess it is always great to have a backup. By the way, Graz is lovely. Bad Ischl will be even better.

"There's no reality except the one contained within us."

2009-07-02T11:40:00.003-05:00

I reached Graz yesterday. I'm staying with friends of mine and will be here for about another week before I leave to stay for another week in Bad Ischl. Then it'll be a hop and a skip over to Salzburg for the beginning route of a long flight home . . . and then Pitchfork! which I am completely excited for right now, among other things. John phoned earlier to tell me that the bulk of my belongings that I shipped home (quite expensively) via express delivery have arrived finally. I was worried about it the entire time I traveled through Italy . . . thinking about the costs of having to replace the bulk of my wardrobe and many of the other essential life items that I brought with me to France.

Well, I've put the Drive-by-Truckers on and am going to go and mull in a bath, then I think Katharina (the friend I'm staying with) and I are going to bake a quiche. There's something about the rolling beat of southern-rock that makes me want to bake a quiche . . . and Kathe, she's a baking frenzy. I suppose that's why we get along.

On the Road.

2009-06-29T15:12:00.002-05:00

I'm on the road. I left France one day ago and have been travelling since. I spent most of the day in Genova, along the coast of Italy. I was not looking forward to leaving the sea, so I stayed as long there as I could. Tonight I'll be staying in Milan, and then tomorrow I'll be heading back to the coast . . . I'm thinking Trieste. By Wednesday, I'll be in Graz, Austria . . . hopefully.

"Things are the way they are because they were the way they were."

2009-06-24T12:55:00.002-05:00

Apparently, this a week of accomplishments. Surpassing yesterday's achievement, today, Wednesday, three days before I pack up all my gear and leave France, I successfully managed to boot up field equipment that has been obstinately refusing to work properly for our entire time here. Even more, is the fact that I spent a reserve of funds replacing the faulty equipment, when nothing was really wrong with it in the first place. Yeah, kind of disappointing.

My other accomplishment for the day, is that I successfully, only hours ago, gave the worst presentation of my life. Most would not think it an accomplishment, but I feel I need to be a tad bit more enthusiastic about it, to make myself feel better. I mean, I was speaking in French and about something that I didn't really know much about (because it was forced upon me at the last second) and halfway through there were some major technical issues . . . so, I had to perform from memory thereon after.

I'm going to go and stew for now. Field work is over, for me at least. So I get to run figures and data sets (woot) . . . which basically is code for: I'm going to put on a pot of tea, some tunes, and take a long bath before everyone comes in from the field an starts up another . . . ruckus.

"I like reality. It tastes like bread."

2009-06-23T11:20:00.005-05:00

I have just now, successfully, programmed the wireless connection between my laptop and my portable printer. I forgot the attaching cable en route to France, and have, with only a few days remaining, accomplished what I've been trying to do for the entirety of these six weeks. Go me.

There's burnt "something" in the quiche pan downstairs. I think it caught on fire.

2009-06-17T21:33:00.004-05:00

The burning thing . . . somebody left something in the oven far too long. I write "something" rather than what it was because, it caught fire and was charred beyond recognition. I'm going to guess a quiche of some sort. The odd thing is that I'm the only person in the house right now . . . so whoever put it in there left the premise, completely forgetting about their . . . something. This talk of foodstuffs puts me in the mood to post the two most yummy things I've had lately.

Delicious, right? That's what I thought. I'd whip something half as good right now, but I have to first figure out how the rid the house of the smell of burnt something . . . without making the smell worse. Maybe I'll just close the bedroom door (so I don't/won't have to worry about it) and make someone deal with it (and the severe pan washing the quiche pan will have to undergo) in the morning . . . yeah, maybe.

Firecracker, firecracker, I will not complain at all, I will never be tricked by you.

2009-06-17T21:15:00.006-05:00

I've been listening to Voxtrot all evening. It's something about the dulcet tones . . . calming, somehow. Anyways, we're leaving the French coast in ten days. It saddens me, to know that in such a short time I'll be leaving the blue coastline that was my home for the six weeks or so of a summer. Well, I should sleep and dream peacefully . . . and of course post more photographs.

I smell something burning . . . which signals to me that it is time to leave. One of the housemates is probably about to burn us all down. Really, I don't know how these people ever survive in their normal day to day lives, especially seeing how they've acted since we've been here. One would think they'd have already accidentally already brought ruin upon themselves. Sheesh, really . . . ha.

What are words compared to photographs?

2009-06-10T19:59:00.003-05:00

8 Chinese brothers, well, there's a reason why the last is smiling wide and sitting higher than the others, stinking with charm.

2009-06-07T19:13:00.004-05:00

I've spent the weekend on the coast of Corsica. It was a nice break, being there in sparse company without the pains of the entire group of my housemates. I realized during my stay there, rolling on the beach and enjoying the blue of the sea, that my stay in France is almost over. Our study in the sea is almost complete, with the team wrapping up most of the sample collection next week. Then it'll be a short time before I pop my belongings back into their suitcase for the trip back to my other more permanent home. I'm, of course, not going to be travelling straight home (I love the joys of adventure far too much) and will be voyaging through Italy to Austria for a bit to visit friends made during the years I lived there. It makes me excited to know that I'll actually me able to talk again in person to the people that I've been maintaining solely a electronic relationship with since I moved back to the US.

Anyways, I'll post more photos soon. I'm not quite in the mood for it today. I've been playing Wilco nonstop lately. I suppose it reminds me (somehow) of how I'm barely going to make it home for the Pitchfork music festival in July. I kind of can't wait for it. My flight home after a short tour of Europe (mainly just Austria) will land me in Chicago the day before the festival begins, upon whence I'll be meeting up with John and all other sorts of old college friends to stay in my mother's old residence (mine now, I suppose) that I rent out to said old college friends upon the agreement that I can live there for five days each year.

I should stop writing, I hear quite a ruckus starting up downstairs. Hopefully, it's nothing. I think after being cramped up with so many people for such a period has made some of the housemates . . . stir-crazy. They have now become short-tempered and quick to pick fights. Hopefully, it's only a short term change. I couldn't deal with them if the change is permanent.

La parole nous a été donnée pour déguiser notre pensée.

2009-06-01T22:02:00.004-05:00

I have a feeling this will be the first post of many. Maybe not, if I begin to feel lazy, in the future. I only yet realized that by the end of the week I will be halfway through my stay here. So, I suppose I should capture every moment . . . well, maybe not. Anyways, I should go and sleep, or at least try to despite the awkward desire of my body to stay awake. For once I am not glad I am not at home, for John called today to say that it had been raining nonstop and that the lawn was flooded once more, including a bit of puddling in his darkroom in the basement . . . he sent pictures . . . which were quite devastating. I mean really, who enjoys looking at flood damage? For now, the house it quiet (a first really) and I think I will put on some more tea and heat up some toast. Maybe then sleep will greet me.

Coffee, Tea, and some Bonnie "Prince" Billy.

2009-06-01T14:29:00.004-05:00

Bonnie "Prince" Billy makes me unbelievably happy.

Pictures are still on hiatus. I have 900+ to sift through.

It might take a while, obviously.

I've put on a pot of tea that is boiling over.

I better go and save it from disaster.

Greek pizza is baking in the oven and it smells wonderful.

Yum.

Why I feel so . . . disheveled and disarrayed.

2009-05-25T15:17:00.002-05:00

I know I haven't been writing much lately, since I always seem to have my hands full with the menial busywork that has become my life. Of course, naturally, France is still beautiful and the sea is still . . . well a big sea, but as it turns out living with a group of my colleagues isn't exactly like living at home. In my own house, my subtle disarray is made up of contained, tumbled book and folder piles. However, here, nothing is contained. I spend my days out at sea in the field and in the lab, and at night I spend them trying to tame the wild mess that has become our once quaint villa. It is unbelievably nerve-wracking.

Well, anyways, I am uploading my photographs now and will get around to posting them later. For now, I need to sleep. I won't have any work, but paperwork to do tomorrow, because some of our equipment isn't working in the field and their going to spend most of the day recalibrating and configuring it. I opted to not help out, which was probably selfish and spiteful of me, but who cares?

My new home for the next six weeks: The French coast.

2009-05-17T16:16:00.003-05:00

I feel like I haven't slept in nearly three days . . . which is probably due to the fact that I haven't slept in nearly three days, with exception for those variable 30 minute to a hour power naps that I've been surviving off of. The last I wrote it was the beginning of finals week, nearing the end of the semester. Now the semester is over, I've packed up life and gear needed for my six week stay on the coast of France in Villefranche-sur-Mer. After finally arriving, spending most of the day moving into the small coastal villa my colleagues and I are renting for the summer, I feel completely drained. The house is quaint, too small for the eight people that are now living in it, but homey. I'll post pictures as soon as possible. Since I still haven't bothered to unpack most of my luggage, my camera is still lost somewhere in the middle of one of my suitcases.

Tomorrow we'll get to work, survey the site, compile materials, etc. Our study site is quite few miles away, offshore, so it will be quite a ride out on the boat to get there. Anyways, France is lovely, as usual. My French is still quite rough (even after all of those vigorous lessons), but nonetheless I'm the best speaker so I have to translate for my coworkers quite a bit, which is going to become a hassle. For now, I'm going to put on a pot a tea, and settle in for a nice long nap . . . the dark circles settling under my eyes are most unbecoming.

Floods, Finals, France: My past, present, and future (despite the unbearable cheesy-ness of that line).

2009-05-11T15:29:00.003-05:00

I have been unabashedly busy since my last post a week or so ago. I realized only Wednesday last week that it was the last week of classes, which threw me into a tizzy to finish grading all the backlog of papers I had yet to grade. Then I realized that my entire schedule for the next week (this week) was going to be all out of whack due to final examinations. Thankfully, I'll be down with proctoring and etc. by Wednesday, so I can devote my time to more pressing matters, because despite my fervent planning and scheduling, I lapsed and forgot that in 6 days I'll be on a plane flying over the ocean and staying there for 8 weeks. Yeah, I'm feeling a little stressed out.

Thankfully, however, the rain has stopped. For the entire week, last week, my days were hindered by the intermittent downpours of spring rain, causing both the front and back lawn to flood (my greenhouse had at least 12 inches of water flooded in the bottom of it). Then afterwards, when the sun would deceivingly poke out from behind the clouds, the temperature would spike to above 80 degrees and the air would become thick with muggy humidity and buzzing bugs.

Well, anyways, I have to go into the lab tonight, again. I have to start shutting everything down, for the most part, during my leave over the summer holiday. I would rather that I not get stuck Thursday or Friday night dealing with it, because that would most undoubtedly ruin my week.

The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain.

2009-04-30T12:10:00.006-05:00

It's raining, again, which is not exactly . . . cool?

I want to run around outside with out getting mud on my socks.

But I can't.

Obviously.

So, now, I am going to stay inside and load up on carbs.

And sugar.

And berry-goodness.

Because I've made some pretty awesome pancakes.

And it would be a shame to let them waste.

Formidable dark clouds, Norwegian jazz, and the splatter on window panes.

2009-04-26T16:06:00.005-05:00

After yesterday's post, I began to hear the tornado/storm sirens going off from the outskirts of the city. The formidable dark clouds approached, thunder boomed, and I ran frantically through each room of the house shutting all the windows so that I wouldn't have to clean up a mess of rainwater when the storm passed. Today, it is raining again, minus the thunder and lightning bolts; instead, just kind of that lazy Monday rain, a downpour just enough to make the sky hazy and distant, but not so torrential as to make one afraid of stepping outside.

Its kind of nice, in that serene, quiet kind of way. The house is silent, settled. John's bumbling about in his studio, listening to Norwegian jazz . . . Arild Andersen or something or the other. . . I can hear the resounding melodies of the bass. I can smell the thick scent of oil paint, linseed, and canvas, maybe a splash of turpentine, drifting its aroma from the room. It's enough to give you a headache, so I hope he opened a window.

I'm in the dining room/kitchen. I can hear and see the splatters of rain hitting the window panes of the kitchen ceiling. I'm debating whether I want to chop up a couple tomatoes and make a marinade. Pasta sounds delicious right now . . . or steak . . . which is weird. I usually never consciously want steak. Must be the jazz, it throws off my moods.

Picnic!

2009-04-25T13:03:00.003-05:00

The cleaning is over. Now I'm settled in with a nice bottle of wine, grapes, and cheese, sitting outside on the patio, and watching some most disturbing stormclouds make their way across the horizon. They'll be here soon, and I'll have to go back inside to the smell of bleach and clean, unless I want to get wet.

I should probably take the cheese in before it rains. It'd be a shame if it was ruined.

Cleaning before a trip to France.

2009-04-25T12:40:00.004-05:00

I've spent the bulk of the morning cleaning. I'm leaving for France in less three weeks now, and I woke up this morning with the feeling that I shouldn't leave the house in disarray when I go and I won't have any other time from here to then to clean it. Of course, John will be around over the summer, but I kind of feel guilty leaving him to live in a mess. Anyways, I should go, I've mixed up a bleach solution and am going to sanitize all the surfaces in the kitchen. Then, I'm going strip down the wood floors to buff, polish, and wax them. Fun!

The air smells like onions, wild onions.

2009-04-22T11:18:00.003-05:00

The air smells like onions, wild onions.
I don't really like the smell, maybe because I don't really like onions.
It's the texture . . . the kind of slimy, kind of crunchy, feel.
I suppose I should shut the windows then, to get rid of it.

But afterwards, what will happen when the odor leaves.

I'll no longer be able to waft in the smell of magnolias and redbud blossoms.

Fragrant tulips and the smell of green grass along a fresh cut lawn.

Ah, maybe I'll just deal.

The Perfect Hiking Tunes.

2009-04-21T10:11:00.002-05:00

This is what I've been listening to lately, especially while hiking. It has that feeling, you know, mellow and good for the soul. Try it out sometime.

There must be some way out of here, said the joker to the thief. There's too much confusion, I cant get no relief.

2009-04-18T22:29:00.008-05:00

Well, I'm not in the best of moods. I just got back from backpacking down south and am thoroughly sunburned. Being the type of person I am, forgetful and all, I forgot my bottle of sunscreen (and incidentally my bottle of aloe as well), and as it would happen I was camping/hiking in a region seemingly devoid of life, so I thought naught of driving the 20-30 mile distance to get some. I should have made the drive, thinking now, as I aspect the spreading red whelp-like areas covering my shoulders, arms, legs, and feet. Luckily, I thought to bring a hat, so my face was spared.

The hiking was great. I took the break as I chance to be alone, without worrying about being bothered by colleagues at work or John at home. After my last post on Wednesday I went back into the lab, finished my work for the week. Then, quite rashly and without plan, I left town. I didn't need to pack because I still had all and any gear in my car, from the trips down to the Gulf (apparently though I removed the sunscreen from vehicle, how thoughtless). This rashness of course sent John into a tizzy when I never came home, but he's gotten over it.

I just had to got out of there. Leave town for a bit to grab a hold of my bearings. The hiking did the job. There's something about standing cliff side, overlooking a ridge that puts life into perspective. Of course, there's also something about sleeping on the rocky ground and playing at being neighbors with the local wildlife that puts life into perspective as well.

Anyways, I should go and catch some sleep. Tomorrow I need to get around to caring more about the will of things in the garden. If the weather turns out nice, by the middle of May I'll be planting in beds the beginnings of my strawberry patch that I've already started from seed. Also the greenhouse is yielding for me some tomatoes, peppers, a variety of herbs and spices, and not to mention a fortitude of berry plants. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited.

There is always time for pie.

2009-04-15T14:38:00.004-05:00

I've been able to to post the frequencies of my life these past couple of weeks (I'm not including my last post into the mix, because quit frankly it was a spattering, to make myself feel as if I've been keeping up to date). Work has become more busy. I spent the last two weekends (Thursday-Sunday) on down at the Gulf (of California) doing field work and then for the weekdays (Monday-Thursday) in the lab, running samples and punching data sets. I'm not complaining per se, but it's exhausting. Throw in a bunch of students and homework problems, and I'm left with no time at all to compose my thoughts. Today, at least I got a break to leave early and have spent the afternoon in the garden, tending to my seed sprouts, listening to bearable music, and making strawberry tart (and naturally then, eating a bit).

It looks yummy, huh? Well, that's because it is. Ha.

Bitch, please!

2009-04-08T22:39:00.003-05:00

I've been a tad bit busy the past week, with you know life and all that jazz. I'll give you the scoop on it all later, for now I need to catch up on some much needed sleep. I'm running on two hours and that just doesn't sit well with me.

Oh, and I realize I still need to post another mix for the month. I'll get around to it sometime.

I can't think of fitting title, so here you go:

2009-03-31T10:04:00.003-05:00

I've been listening to The Pogues nonstop since last evening. I finally had enough sense to remember to pull the final season of The Wire to the top of my Netflix queue, and it reminds me of The Pogues . . . mainly because they're frequently part of the show's soundtrack. Anyways, I watched the show back on HBO (before the series ended) and have been having this strong urge to play through the entire series for a while now. It must be something about the whole gritty Baltimore crime/drug drama thing that gets to me. I suppose it really fits that void of "danger and questionable activity" in my far too wholesome life.

Oh, well. I suppose I should go . . . long day and all that jazz. I don't have work until 3, so I'm going to mill around until then I guess . . . maybe go in early, to get a head start. Wait, no I won't.

"Too Cute" : Why I never thought I would find myself writing those words.

2009-03-30T12:50:00.005-05:00

I went on a sort of a baking frenzy this weekend. I was in one of those modes and after very little coaxing by friends baked up all these goodies for a birthday party. They're mostly cupcakes of different varieties, along with the cake . . . and I even splurged whipped up a tray of marzipan candies (yum)! The party went over fine. It was for my friend, Anna, whom thought that maybe the idea of formal birthday party was a little childish for someone her age, but I told her quite firmly to suck it up. We should all enjoy the spoils of childhood, even if we're in our late twenties (or acting even more middle-aged). Of course, I naturally just enjoyed it because dessert decorating to overly fun . . . and well, I don't know many people with children for whom I could bake decorated treats for, so I substitute for proper adults that have no sense of idyllic joy.

I suppose the photos really brighten up the page. Sheesh, everything looks so . . . cute. It's as if I need to add a couple photos of some kitties and puppies to really complete this post.

Yeah, I don't think that that is going to happen.

Staring up into the solar system, all the stars are fixed up in the sky. I just want to sparkle for a moment, before I just fizzle out and die.

2009-03-26T18:40:00.003-05:00

The week is almost over. The weekend is almost here.

Please, feel my most joyful exhalations.

It did not rain today.

2009-03-23T19:47:00.008-05:00

Make yourself comfortable, for me, I took off my shoes, changed into some cotton clothing. Surround yourself with the most inviting of smells. I put on a put on a pot of strong fragrant masala chai, stirred ingredients of fruit and pastry into the perfect scone, and watch it bake, filling the room with warmth. Add the final touch, put your mood on play. Today, I was feeling a little Tegan and Sara "Under Feet Like Ours," as it had the feeling of female strength and acoustical rhythm. Then, lie down on your back and close your eyes for as long as needed. Hopefully, when you open them again you will be relaxed, calm, and content.

I keep having the feeling like I haven't been listening to anything worthwhile lately, probably because I've been stuck in the attitude that I haven't done anything worthwhile as of late. However, today, for once, I did not have that feeling. I don't know if exercise served it's purpose or otherwise, but everything came together, the world stopped spinning, and it was just about the best feeling in the world.

My dog was lost but now he's found.

2009-03-22T13:18:00.008-05:00

My nap/supposed "deep" sleep didn't last long. I was awoken by John who in a stated of confusion and sheer orneriness (I'm doubting the validity of this word, but the root of it describes so well), woke me. He was not alone. Our neighbor, whom I've never met before, was with him (and looking quite frightening as well, dressed in thick boots and carrying a large shovel). Apparently he wanted to chat (quite angrily) with us about our dogs and thought the presence of his large forbearing shovel/(murder weapon) might intimidate us.

The hilarity in the situation is that, after being lectured for about an hour and half without pause or opening to say a word about our obnoxious animals, I had to politely (or politely as I could), "Sir, this is a grave situation indeed, because we do not own any dogs. Or any animal of the sort. We must be having a ghostly situation here, or you're just crazy. Now please leave, before I have to threaten you with my shovel." I think I angered him. But, really, the man was a little out of line. I mean if I really did own a canine, after he said he was going "beat it dead," I think I would have been a little more irrational.

Anyways, Seattle. It was . . . more enjoyable as the week progressed. Still rainy, still a little boring for my taste, but overall okay. I saw my father, and he obviously didn't look so hot, with the whole about to die thing going on. I saw my brothers, all four of them (Septimus, Julian, Noel, Peter) and stayed with them, alternating throughout the week. They really made me think about and appreciate why I left with my mother, when moved from Vancouver to Chicago when I was a young teen. I don't have much in common with them, I think.

I'll post more photographs of the actual city later. For now you'll just have to enjoy photos of my family and their far too luxurious homes. I mean really, what's the deal? Why do I feel so lower-class when I'm around them? Oh right, maybe because I am, in comparison.

A Series of Unmade Beds.

2009-03-18T22:29:00.002-05:00

This has been my life for the past week. I'm glad to be home and actually able to rest in one place without moving about. I'll post more pictures from the trip later. For now, I need to sleep. I've got some major jet lag (or at least it feels like that) and I've got early labwork in the morning (woot). It's a beautiful combination (not).

Yeah. This is Great.

2009-03-16T23:17:00.002-05:00

Seattle. I'm here. It's just about as much fun as I imagined it (which is to say its not that great. I've spent the last day and all those prior squatting at my brother Septimus's house, listening to John and him chat about everything, and endured the most uneventful, probably worst trip to Vancouver that I would have ever expected. Anyways, I'll write more later. Tomorrow I'm being traded off to my other brother's home to stay . . . and at some point will be throwing in a trip to see dear old dad (cough, yeah, I still haven't visited him yet). For now, I've put on some The Boy Least Likely To, and am trying to enjoy myself.

Like a death in the hall that you hear through your wall, New York, I love you, but you're freaking me out.

2009-03-13T13:38:00.003-05:00

I'm catching the night flight to Seattle tonight. Should be there by dawn. In just enough time to feel the weight of the week come crashing down on me and allow me to pass out on whatever spare bed I'm squatting on tonight. I hope I haven't forgotten to pack anything. Looks like I haven't, but I hope John will double check just in case. I hope Septimus cleaned his house. I hope this week passes quickly. I hope the rental agency hasn't lost the reservation I made with them, so I'll be able to drive out of Seattle onto Vancouver as soon as I wake up. I hope none of my brothers will try to stop me. Look at that, I'm just a bucket full of hopes, brimming with optimism. Ha.

And no one wants a tune about the 100th luftballoon that was seen shooting from the window of your room.

2009-03-10T12:06:00.009-05:00

We made it to the Shenandoah. The park was silent, as I suppose many people don't travel there often in the early spring. We then met up with some our eastern friends. John went to college in the region, so he's always eager to meet up with other "buddies" of his. We all camped out under the stars, drank cheap alcohol from the bottle in front of the campfire, and remembered what it was like to be a teenager again. It was still a little chill at night, which naturally made sleeping in the open air of night cold, but somehow enjoyable.

In the daytime, I wore shorts (for the first time this year!) and hiked around. We only stayed near Shenandoah for one night, the other two (days and nights) we spent biking and hiking around the uplands of Kentucky. I'll post some more photographs soon. My battery died not even halfway through the trip, so most of the good photos, were taken with John's older (less digital) Nikon, and he hasn't developed them yet, for me to begin the tedious procedure of digital copies.

Well, I'll write more later (and post more photos) later, for now I have to go and deal with crazed students who seem to have forgotten that midterms were this week. It really amazes me that they can prepare these outlandish spring break trips to Mexico and all the other bright beaches of the Americas, but still at the same time act as if that fact that it's midterm week totally phases them. People confuse me sometimes. Well, it's back to the office . . . then the lab . . . then a meeting . . . then the lab . . . then the office . . . and then finally home, again, maybe. I'll be at this schedule all week, if I survive. Hopefully.

I've been to a minor place, and I can say I like it's face. If I am gone and with no trace, I will be in a minor place.

2009-03-06T09:25:00.003-06:00

The sky is beautiful. The air smells like fresh bed sheets after being newly washed. I'm smoking a cigarette on my non-existent balcony. I've put on Les Savy Fav's album "Let's Stay Friends." I'm watching John reattach the bike rack to the back of the car. We're going to the east. I think. Basically the plan is to hop into the car and drive. We're aiming to reach the Appalachians, but I don't know if we'll get that far.

After a quick stint in the office this early (6:30) this morning, I packed everything up, came home, and have been ready to head out since. I packed berries and bread for a quick breakfast on the road even, except John was hardly out of the shower when I was ready to go. He's getting a slow start since he spent the entire evening out yesterday, finally arriving home in the early morning completely incoherent and loud. Thankfully I made extra coffee to pacify him.

Well, I should stop writing and find my shoes, wherever they are.

Jane was the one, who would always have her fun. When she's lying on her bed, making visions in her head.

2009-03-04T12:20:00.001-06:00

I hate it when weather throws my body cycles off. This weekend, temperatures dropped into the teens and it started snowing again. Today, the weather has miraculously heated up and it's 70 degrees outside. The sun is shining and people are wearing shorts and tanks, whereas yesterday the only skin you could see while walking down the sidewalk was the noses of people sticking out from bundles of scarves and parkas.

Due to the climatic shift, I'm going to take off my shoes and walk around on the budding green grass, wet from slushy snow. Then, I'm going to start digging around in the backyard. The house is too warm on the inside, since the heat was turned up because of the cold. I have to wait until it cools down before I spend too much time in there. Thankfully, the house lends itself it having many large windows, to air it out. I'm sitting on the patio now, eating cherry pie, listening to some Caspian . . . Mogwai . . . etc.

Also, yesterday, to brighten my spirits, I went to the salon . . . got a hair cut . . . and a dye. At first it felt awkward trading my dark locks for a lighter shade, but I was beginning to get this skunk stripe of gray hair in my bangs (yeah, I am vain enough to dye it out) . . . and well . . . it makes me look more . . . youthful. I haven't had a pixie cut since I was 18. This makes me remember why I liked it so much.

Well, if the weather stays constant, I think over the weekend I'll pack a knapsack, drive east, and go hiking. I have the strongest urge to be outside all of the time. I've been a little down lately, with the whole supernatural-forces-being-against-me-thing, but I don't know, the air makes me want to believe everything is going to become right again. Well, I should go and run around in the lawn . . . check up on the activity in the greenhouse . . . dig up some dirt . . . the usual. Later I'm going to drive into campus to check up on things at the lab and participate in the blood drive they're holding this week. I never miss a chance to donate . . . it gives me one of those natural highs. Weird, I know.

I Can't Sleep: Why I'm going to spend the night gorging myself on ice cream, strawberry syrup, and really bad monster movies.

2009-03-02T00:54:00.007-06:00

I'm awake, still. It's the wee hours of the morning, and I find that I can't fall asleep, which is distressing since I've got a bunch of hours I have to punch at the lab tomorrow and I'd rather not do so drained from lack of sleep. At least John's still awake too. He's downstairs making ice cream sundaes (I had this craving for peanuts and strawberry syrup . . . don't ask). We're going to stay up watching bad monster movies until, 1) the dawn breaks and both of us have to head off to our respective workplaces or, 2) the sleeping pill I took 30 minutes decides to take effect and I crash just long enough to restore some energy, but not sound enough so that I sleep through the alarm clocks I've set up. Hopefully the latter is going to occur. For now, I can hear the patter of John's footsteps coming up the stairs. It's time for ice cream . . . and hot bruschetta. Yum.

. . . Travelling. Again.

2009-03-01T11:36:00.006-06:00

So, it's set. In two weeks, I'll be catching the red eye to Seattle and staying there for seven days, bunking over at my brothers houses. They've all decided that since I've never seen their homes, they're going to trade me out for the entire week. I'm not especially excited to go . . . and in fact am a little disappointed. I mean, I'm giving up the bright blue beaches of Baja California, for the cloudy dismal of Seattle. The only plus sides I can foresee is that I'm taking a couple of those seven days to pop two hours away up to Vancouver . . . while there I'll at least be able to have a moment to myself. The other positive being that I'll get to finally pick up a couple records and books that Septimus says he's been hoarding away for me since the winter holidays. Ah, hopefully the weather will be nice while I'm there.

Bob, this is why we're friends. What?

2009-02-25T20:26:00.000-06:00

I dig this tune . . . and the Allen Ginsberg's cameo in the background.

It's autumn in Gothenburg, I'm walking home to my suburb. Rain falls hard on the city, on every homeless kitty.

2009-02-24T17:32:00.009-06:00

Jens Lekman is my favorite person on Earth right now. He makes cleaning a breeze. And of course, he sounds great too. But I think those two are associated.

Woke up today, just called to say, your body's cold and you're going nowhere.

2009-02-23T11:34:00.006-06:00

The weekend. It was rough. I had so much work that I needed to catch up on, that at some point I hit the limit of my stress level, changed into some suitable clothes, and went outside for a run. Exercise relieves stress right? It was nice (or as nice as it could be) running through the barren countryside into the town, through the bustling streets, parks, detouring to the market, meeting up with John who was already there, picking up berries imported from Mexico, grabbing brunch with him at the cafe, and parting ways for the run back home. The weather was warmed up so much that it felt so fresh, renewed, like the way air smells after spring rains. The early Spring flowers are even starting to bloom, spattering a landscape of brown with little specks of bright greens and yellows.

After the run, I decided that this year I'm going to grow more than a window garden (because I can). I surveyed the back yard, measured out and marked where the beds and lots are going to be. Last year, I installed a greenhouse over the summer, but never used it extremely, since it was summertime and everything I planted didn't need to be in greenhouse. To put it and my over stressed mind to use, I started up all my seedlings on Sunday. I also went to quarry and purchased limestone flagstones to mark out the beds. I'm going to wait until further in the spring to install them, though.

Anyways, I also stopped listening to Bob Dylan today. I needed something to boost my spirit . . . a little Beulah, you know. They're too upbeat to get me down, hopefully. Since I was able to lie around in bed this morning (my water dynamics prof is still away), I slept in late, made a little bit of breakfast. John was actually here this morning, so I went a little overboard and had a little bit of everything: sunny side up eggs and prosciutto on toasted bread with sliced fields mushrooms, berries and sliced banana with vanilla yogurt, and a little bit of Gorgonzola and Brie. It was quite more than enough, and filling.

Hmm, well it's time for me to get back to spreadsheets, data sets, and computer models . . . and after that I get to go into the laboratory to check up on equipment and trial runs. Joy.

Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears, bury the rag deep in your face for now's the time for your tears.

2009-02-20T11:31:00.005-06:00

I didn't have class this morning. I'm sitting in on this course in water dynamics (yeah, it is just about as awesome as it sounds. Heh, that's sarcasm if you can't tell) and it was cancelled this morning for some reason or the other. I think the prof. was in San Diego or Algeria . . . something like that. So, I'm sitting around, twiddling my thumbs, waiting for my 3 o'clock.

Oh, I decided that I want February to be over as soon as possible. Naturally, I can't will the calendar to skip ahead into March; instead, I'm going to rid myself of the feeling of February. If it feels like March to my subconscious, then my body and mind will act accordingly and think it's March. These titles of months are only arbitrary in the scale of time, but what we associate with them is what alters outward perception, creates different emotions, etc throughout the year. Of course, my reasoning could be completely faulty, but I have hope.

To begin, I've switched over and posted my mix for March. Also, I've been playing Bob Dylan all morning, because the this is the month of my homage to Mr. Dylan. I've pulled out the entire discography, and I've start chronologically with Bob Dylan (1962).

Well . . . au revoir pour maintenant.

Empty homes, plastic cones, stolen rims, are they alloy or chrome? Well, I've got style, miles and miles, so much style it's wasted.

2009-02-19T17:47:00.001-06:00

If you could not tell, I'm listening to Pavement . . . I have been since this morning. The kind of nonsensical soothing rumble of Stephen Malkmus's voice/lyrics puts everything in perspective. What I've figured so far from this enlightenment is that I've fallen into some sort of karmic abyss where everything awful and horrible I've done in my existence is coming back, rearing it's ugly head, and chopping me up slowly into the tiny bits of a human. In the span of seven weeks, I've broken my nose and a pair of eyeglasses, violated more traffic laws than I had the entirety of my life prior, dented both bumpers on my vehicle after being rear-ended by another car forcing me to slide into a lamppost (I think I've forgone mentioning that incident until now), paid for the overestimated damage to the lamppost mentioned prior, got my vehicle towed twice, had my workload doubled, got screwed over for a pay increase, and now my father's dying and my brother keeps calling me every hour because I'd be just the worst daughter in the world if I didn't make it a priority to fly to Seattle and see him before, well, the whole death thing.

Anyways, I'm probably going to give in an fly out there, but it won't be for a couple of weeks, until the second week in March to be exact. I won't be able to get off work and such until then. It'll be spring break. Though I had planned to go to Baja California to meet with old friends during the break, I suppose I can withstand making a short detour to the north, before I visit the bright blue beaches of the south.

Well. This might be a little off topic now, but I think I should add to this post that Stephen Malkmus is a total cutie-pie (I might as well put it out there) and his voice reminds me off the soft whining whir of laboratory equipment (what?). I saw him and the Jicks live back in October. It was a great show. He played spectacularly, as usual.

I was born by the river in a little tent, and just like the river I've been running ever since.

2009-02-18T22:21:00.000-06:00

I received a surprising telephone call yesterday. It was from my brother, concerning my father. He's dying apparently. Tumor. Brain. A case of bad luck and genetics. He wants me to fly back to Seattle to see him. I haven't seen or communicated with my father in twelve years, since I was fourteen. I don't know whether I want to start again now.

In other news, this evening I've put the Sam Cooke on loud, made grilled cheeses and the best chicken noodle soup I've tasted in a long while, downed a couple of glasses of wine, rolled a couple of cigarettes, and am on my way to finish reading through Diderot (finally).

If silence means that much to you, then I promise to keep silent too.

2009-02-15T11:54:00.005-06:00

It's a beautiful day.

I'm listening to Emma Pollock.

Her voice kind of makes the day perfect.

I'm sitting on wooden folding chair in the one of the spare rooms. There's a door (now open) leading to a balcony outside . . . except the balcony has since been removed from the house's exterior, so the door opens up and steps out into air. Naturally, of course, the door offers the best view of the countryside out of anywhere in the entire house.

It's my favorite place to sit, roll and smoke a cigarette, drink a cup of tea, read some philosophy, and believe in the purpose of being there.

I was chewin' gum for something to do. The blinds were being pulled down on the dew. Inside, out of love, what a laugh, I was looking for you.

2009-02-13T11:18:00.006-06:00

All of my afternoon appointments cancelled. Apparently, they had better things to do on a cloudy, windy, slightly chilly, Friday afternoon. Apparently, they assume I have nothing better to do than wait around to be blown off by shifty students. Apparently.

What to do now?

I've put on the Wilco.

Turned the volumed up loud.

Naturally, Jeff Tweedy makes me forget my problems.

Hmm. Let's go make a pie.

I need a bowl of cereal.

2009-02-11T18:11:00.005-06:00

Time? Who has much of it?

Oh, and it seems I've lost the spirit for music.

Everything I listen to sounds like mush, which is odd since I distinctly remember enjoying The Mountains Goats . . . and etc.

It keeps raining here. It hasn't let up since Sunday. Maybe that's the problem . . . the rain's discouraging the vibe.

In other news, I've been clearing out my hard drive of travel photos, so I'm going to post some of them (or at least the some that fit my mood). Enjoy:

Hmm. I feel like I travel much too often. Most of those are from Chicago . . . Montreal . . . Austria . . . Seattle . . . and all the places in between. Oh, I even think there are some from my research time in Baja California. Sheesh.

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee. One clover, and a bee, and revery. The revery alone will do, if bees are few.

2009-02-06T11:23:00.004-06:00

The weather has been great for the past week. It makes me kind of miss the feeling of winter . . . especially since it's still February . . . and it shouldn't feel like this until two more months from now.

Of course, I kind of can't wait until my back yard looks like this again. I suppose pictures will do for now . . . they brighten up the air at least.

We throw parties, you throw knives. It's all the same if the fizzy drinks are nice.

2009-02-02T17:35:00.006-06:00

I arrived home only moments ago. Incidentally, the flight back wasn't as interesting as the flight there. Maybe it was due to exhaustion. Maybe it was due to the incessant noise that comes out of some people's mouths. Maybe it was because I'm just annoyed/bitter/perturbed. Maybe I'm sick. I feel sick. Of course, that could all be due to the exhaustion.

After the exiting the flight on Friday, I checked into my hotel room, piddled around until everybody else "situated," went to the university, chatted it up with a bunch of people that I've met before but couldn't exactly recall names and such. After meeting, greeting, rolling my eyes across the room too many times to count, Sally thought it best if we "wined and dined" as she called it. I had two glasses of wine. I thought it would be more respectable if at least one of us was sober when we returned to the hotel later in the evening.

There's nothing like the smell of cheap bar to keep someone awake, so I showered and prepared to pop in some earplugs, a sleeping pill, and go to sleep. There's also nothing like being in a strange hotel room at midnight wondering whether you were really unprepared enough to forget to pack the travel bag including both your earplugs and sleeping pills (and incidentally, my toothbrush and paste, as well). I could have made it without the pills. The plugs, however, not a chance . . . especially since the people in the room above seemed to think the time of night incompletely irrelevant to their level of noise. I spent entire night with my eyes shut . . . trying to sleep . . . but awake the entire time. I didn't even have the chance to miss my alarm.

The next day. Boring. Well, not really. But, I was tired and everything seemed to drag on for forever. That night . . . and the next night after . . . I kind of gave up on sobriety. I figured that the only way for me to pass out like a rock . . . was to consume enough alcohol to completely alter my sensory perception. In theory (more like, in my head) it was plausible . . . in reality I ended up equally exhausted as I would have been, but with the added bonus of a headache.

This is why I am now laying on my bed, swallowing painkillers, listening to Broken Social Scene and trying to forget the weekend. The next time I travel, I'm going to think before I pack my luggage . . . and I'm going to avoid business trips with colleagues (other than Sally) that refuse to shut their mouths (namely one said person who thinks I don't dress "professional" enough). I suppose you could say I have conflict in the workplace . . . just a little bit though.

You said I must eat so many lemons, cause I am so bitter. I said I'd rather be with your friends mate, cause they are much fitter.

2009-02-01T22:01:00.001-06:00

Friday. This was the day I caught my flight. The night before, I planned out the entire schedule of how my morning was going to run. Wake up. Go to the office. Converse with boss. Pick-up paperwork. Drive to airport. Simple, clean cut, and easy. I messed up at step one. I didn't wake up and ended up sleeping in late (something that seems to be happening a lot lately). Due to this complication, I ended up making it to the office later than usual and my boss was no longer in and I wasn't able to have that "important" chat (here's where I sarcastically add in a "too bad"). I got the to airport late (as expected), checked in, ran through security, and hustled to the terminal before realizing that the flight boarding wasn't my flight, instead it was going to Tuscan or something and the other like that. I pondered. I went over "the plan" in my head. I must have stood there puzzling over it in quite a state for quite a while because that this point an airport attendant neatly taps me on the shoulder to make sure I was "okay." At that I quietly retreated from the spotlight to puzzle more.

Upon finding a place to sit and wonder . . . I finally think up the wonderful idea of looking at my flight schedule on my ticket (naturally this is the last thing I thought of, ha!). I cursed and rubbed my temples. My flight wasn't for another two hours. So, I got to sit in the airport way longer than any normal person would want to, for no real cause other than the fact that I wasn't "capable" enough apparently to actually read my flight information.

I suppose, on the positive side, this did allow for me to "connect" to an array of people that I would have otherwise been oblivious of. The first was the elderly man going to see his son in Los Angles. He said I had pretty eyes and reminded him of his daughter. She was in Florida and we both liked to read French philosophy (yes, I finally pulled my Diderot off the shelf). The second was a mother of . . . three . . . sons. They were going haywire. We met when the youngest (I assume) crawled up in the seat next to me, started poking me, and told me I must be crazy because I was reading my book upside down (I'm guessing he assumed French was upside down English . . . sheesh, aren't kids . . . cute?). His mother apologized and struck up conversation about how kids are crazy and how I was smart to not have any . . . Hmm? I wonder if that is what my mother thought?

At this point I had to take a break, go to the bathroom, splash a little water on my face, pick up on overpriced muffin (I neglected to grab a croissant in the rush of the morning, that now seemed pointless). By the time I arrived back at my seat, the mother was gone, replaced by a familiar face. I couldn't exactly remember where I had seen it before, but he remembered me so I played along. Asked how my job was, I said fine and asked the same. He replied the same. It was the most awkward 20 minute conversation of my life . . . because every second I spent it trying to place the face hoping I wouldn't say anything to give myself away. I wouldn't remember who it was until the next morning, when I would be hovering over the crossword, stop say "aha!" not because I found a word, but a name instead. I would repeat the name over and over. He was one of John's mates, helped with the move . . . nearly killed my dogfaced pufferfish. Well, it felt good knowing.

Next, it was the middle-aged man who was trying to do the crossword (different newspaper) and, I, reading over his shoulder, helped him out. I think he thought I was a creeper (because let's be honest, it's kind of a creeper thing to do) but once he figured I wasn't going to chop him up, he warmed up and let me finish with him. After that an angsting teen struck up a conversation with me . . . she probably wasn't a teen anymore, more like 20 or 21 . . . it felt like I was talking to a student . . . but not about schoolwork. We chatted about school, dating, music, how much she hates her parents, you know, the generics of a teenage life. Then, I got a tap on the shoulder. I turned and became instantly grateful. It was one of my colleagues.

After some chitchat, the plane arrived, I boarded. We were unable to seat next to each other, so I was situated next to a window and a business-type-looking-man while, Sally, my friend and colleague, was situated in the middle aisle stuck between two people. It looked uncomfortable . . . for her. My other colleagues were somewhere towards the front of the plane. Thankfully. Lift off.

To ease into the flight I pull out my Diderot, put on my headphones (Kate Nash, "Made of Bricks") and began to read. The business man next to me taps me on the shoulder. I become irritated, only slightly though, take off my headphones, and put my book down. He asks what I'm reading. Diderot, Jacques le fataliste et son maitre, I responded. Then it all unfolds. He's some French teacher, professor, extraordinaire . . . not a businessman (which explains why his briefcase looked fake). So we run down the introductory list, move on to music, likes, dislikes, find out we're both going to Columbia. Wow, that's neat! Apparently. At this point I've been so distracted by conversation to not notice the obvious discomfort of Sally, across the aisle. The people to both side of her have fallen asleep . . . on her. The person closest to myself is using her breast as his own personal pillow, to which I lean over and say "just push him aside . . . he won't mind . . . he's asleep."

She begins her attempt to wake the man, however, this effort is thwarted when the child sitting directly behind the man thinks it'll be hilarious to begin tickling the man's ankles. He doesn't wake up and instead begins to butt his head further into Sally breast and side. Hmm, he seems catatonic. However, the next series of events proves that he is not. The child behind him decides that tickling ankles was just not as fun as it should be. It decides that jabbing a green colored pencil into the ankle is a better alternative . . . so, it does just that. The sleeping man awakes! Shrieks in pain! Jumps up and forward!

In any normal case, people would have stared a little bit, made conversation about the incident, and moved on. However, this wasn't a normal incident. It just so happened that when the man happened to jump up startled, Sally was leaning over him about to pop him in the nose (to wake him as well). His sudden jump reared his head back into her face causing instant trauma to her nose (this seems to be happening more than often, as well). It started bleeding, which of course, set the stewardess into a panic. While Sally was administered first aid, the man began to hastily scold the parents belonging to the child with a predilection for green colored pencils. Argument ensued. The stewardess had to break it up.

When Sally returned to her seat, battered but not broken, the man seemed still in need to pick a fight . . . and with her apparently, because, while she had sustained a bloody nose, his head hurt just a tad bit more than it should have, again apparently. Let's just say the argument didn't end with a soft and nice resolution. Instead, it ended with Sally smothering his face in her chest (some tangent from the whole "he-was-using-it-as-a-pillow" thing) and questioning (rhetorically) if he'd like to go take another nap (as if you couldn't tell, she kind of has a short wire). Of course, this wasn't the natural ending, which probably would have been far worse. Instead it was cut short, due to the plane landing.

Well, it's never a real flight unless injury is involved and someone gets half smothered in a lady's cleavage. Let's just say Sally spent the entire night trying to forget the entire incident ever happened (with alcohol, of course). Oh, and the French non businessman gave me his phone number . . . to get drinks after we landed . . . I guess?

I just got off the BEST plane ride EVER.

2009-01-30T16:56:00.003-06:00

I just got off the BEST plane ride EVER. I'll tell you more about it later. I've got to run to a "meet-and-greet." Fun. Yeah. Hmm.

TRIP! TRIP! TRIP! Oh, and I posted a new mix for the month.

2009-01-29T18:22:00.005-06:00

Oh, I've posted the new mix for February, since February's only two days away and I'm going to be busy and out of town tomorrow until Monday. I'm going to another one of those "conferences" (meaning I'll probably be busy/bored) and well, it's in NY, so I'll be hopping on a plane tomorrow morning with a couple of colleagues to get there by that evening/afternoon (who really knows with all the time change switches I'll be going through). I'll be sure to enjoy it (woot)!

Anyways, my playlist for the coming month feels kind of . . . weak to me. I mostly put a bunch of crap on it that I have thinking about/wanting to/have been playing recently . . . so it doesn't really encompass, for me, the "feel" of February. Of course, how does one truly describe the feeling February in song? I haven't mastered it. But maybe I will.

Stars. The Sky is Too Cloudy to See Them.

2009-01-29T11:58:00.004-06:00

An old friend of mine from a childhood long ago (or maybe it just feels like it) posted me this video on my Facebook (dude, I am way too trendy) and I decided to post it here. Not only do I enjoy the music of Stars, the video reminds me slightly of my own childhood during the winter, usually spent everyday lying down on the ice of some forgotten pond on my father's property and staring up into the clouds or falling snow.

Naturally, though, when my father found out that I spent my afternoons in the dead of winter lying on cold ice, he kind of freaked out.

Know what's weird? Day by day, nothing seems to change. But pretty soon, everything's different.

2009-01-27T18:05:00.004-06:00

Today, I saw two off-color things as I walked/wandered around campus.

#1. On my brisk walk to today's topical brown bag luncheon, I found myself walking behind a grudgingly slow person. As I stared down at their feet, willing them to move faster, I realized something. This said person was wearing two different shoes, which in most cases could be any normal mistake to make (you know, accidentally throwing different but similar pairs of shoes while hustling to leave and not realizing it . . . we've all done it . . . or at least I have). However, it this case the two different shoes were not similar. One was a "flip-flop" sandal and the other a blue slide on flat. I should also note, it was snowing and not quite the right weather for either, especially the sandal.

I wonder whether this was part of some observational analysis on human perception and reaction.

#2. I had to catch the bus to ride over to West Campus. On the ride I peered out the window and saw a peculiar lady wrapping her arms around a large oak tree. She hugged it, stepped away, bowed, and resumed conversation (presumably with the tree). I pondered these actions. On the ride back to my office I peered out the window once more. Again, I saw the same actions being preformed other another, different tree. It was kind of amusing . . . I wonder what the lady is like personally. Interesting, probably.

Hmm. Things like this make me wonder. Maybe I need to pop out the norm. Maybe not. I'm listening to Okkervil River for the evening . . . but I think I'm going to change it to some electronica/techno/house/funkadelic. I'm in that kind of mood and Okkervil River doesn't fit.

Lying in Bed, Empanadas, and Nietzschian Philosophy: Why the Air Feels so Fresh.

2009-01-25T16:38:00.010-06:00

After last Thursday's incident of unusually warm weather for the season, the temperature took a turn for the worst. The skies became clouded and the sun left (for warmer areas I suppose) leaving behind the chills of flurried snow and 5 degree weather. To suit such a day, I am lying in bed (the guest bed in one of the spare bedrooms, which, as of late, I've become accustomed to sleeping in for whatever reason . . . I think it makes me feel adventurous) comforted by the warmth of the covers and the soft glow emitted from the bedside lamp.

I've spent the morning and afternoon reading more philosophy. Of course, all natural sense would tell me to finally dive into those French philosophical novels I picked up in Montreal, however, sense does not seem to apply to my reading choices (at least not for today). I've chosen a good standby, which in this instance is not Hesse (who can usually fill every circumstance with reading joy), but instead, I've gone with a little Nietzsche. For some reason I find that his works have a sort of . . . depth (so to speak) that fits dreary days (such as these).

I'm currently working through "Uber Wahrheit und Luge im aussermoralischen Sinn" which titled in English is "On Truth and Lies in a Nonmoral Sense." It basically deals with the theoretical questions of truth and such as it is . . . making it quite and interesting read. If I finish it by this evening I'm going to start "Die Geburt der Tragodie aus dem Geiste der Musik," which in the English version is titled "The Birth of Tragedy" and it introduces his thoughts on the dichotomy of the Apollonian and Dionysian (I know, it's a little intense).

On a lighter note, I made some great empanadas for lunch/dinner. They turned out nice. I'm not usually into Spanish food (peppers kind of unnerve me) but for some reason I had this awful urge for it . . . and today it turned out that the urge didn't lead me astray as the empanada were great.

Well, for now I am going to go back to reading. I'd like to spend the rest of the day without a thought about the coming work week ahead, but I know that that isn't possible, so I will just try to push it as far out of my head as possible. Oh, I've also gotten over my Elf Power fixation. Today, I put on some Golden Smog . . . which for now it just as good.

Counting threes through the window, imitation glass, that's been stratched in code, to be read by someone else.

2009-01-22T21:42:00.001-06:00

Oh, and if you can't tell . . . I still kind of love Elf Power. Maybe tomorrow that love will fade into a temporary dislike and I'll move onto something else. The Ladybug Transistor? I've kind of been dying to pull out the Abermarle Sound and put it on.

Hold my head to the skin I said, when my heart wasn't always there. As you turn down the light in the long black night, peel back the moon, beware!

2009-01-22T17:37:00.008-06:00

Today, I woke up. I showered. I stood contemplating my day's outfit. I was told the prior day offhandedly that my "attire" wasn't "professional" enough. I didn't know whether to take the comment seriously or not. I figured that the person that made this comment was just trying to make a jab at me for wearing jeans and tees rather than one of those tight (rather revealing) dresses that "Emily-down-the-hall" wears all the time. So, I dressed normally. I made a pot of tea. I nibbled on a croissant. I checked the time and got ready to leave pulling on my coat and scarf and hat and gloves. Bundled, to face the chilly winter weather I grudgingly walked toward the door. I stepped outside. I cursed, quite loudly.

It was about 70 degrees and not quite the right temperature to be dressed for snow.

I'm thinking of drinking the entire sea, where fishes makes wishes and swim into me. Oh, what a beautiful dream.

2009-01-20T23:59:00.002-06:00

I've been in the laboratory since 3 this afternoon until 9 this night. It was . . . intense. After that I came home and computed data sets for . . . god knows how long . . . with computation and data sets everything seems to last forever. Finally, I stopped. I gave up and tomorrow I am going to push the rest of the data sets and computation onto some menial lab tech. Sometimes it's great to have authority.

Now, since I'm on one of those pseudo-adrenaline kicks from punching Excel files, I've let loose and put on the last.fm radio (tuned to Elf Power) which is something I normally wouldn't do (I enjoy picking my own musical delights way too much) but . . . as I said I let loose . . . and am letting everything wash away. It's like a ritual cleansing, except with music and wine (which, by the way, is homemade . . . not by me . . . but some buff in Geography makes it for fun and I swindled a bottle . . . and, sheesh, it's . . . strong).

This moment would almost be perfect if I did have this itch telling me that I should at least try to get some sleep, so I can wake up tomorrow and do this all over again.

I Don't Feel Like a Gardenia.

2009-01-20T11:17:00.006-06:00

I just got back from the office. My schedule this semester is totally off . . . I work in the morning until 9:30 and then I have a free period from then until 3 this afternoon. So I thought I might as well head home and mill around here rather than sitting around trying to think of things to do on campus. I handed back the homeworks I graded this morning. I don't think many people were too happy . . . but that could have been either from their grades or the fact that it was early in the morning after a long weekend (in their cases probably involving too much alcohol).

Here, the day is getting progressively colder . . . with the winds picking up in speed . . . and it started snowing again about an hour ago. The whole day just feels a little . . . down. Of course, the whole day could be feeling melancholy because I put on some Ida when I came home . . . I thought it would fit the mood . . . and it did apparently too well because all I want to do now is curl up in the comfort of cotton and down and sleep for forever (if that was only possible). Instead though, I am going to put some water on and make a strong pot of tea (I've been craving oolong).

On that note, I finally found my teakettle, yesterday. For some reason I had misplaced in one of the spare rooms . . . I remember doing this now, I was searching for a book on Tetraodontidae (pufferfish) that I thought I had packed away sometime during the move but still can't find . . . anyways I had brought the pot of tea in with me so I could refill my cup while I searched through boxes and shelves of books. I must have left in it there.

This entire topic brings me up to point on the fact that, now, after moving from my rundown flat where nothing worked to this house where everything works, I have too much space . . . too many rooms to lose things in. And now, since I'm liquidating all of my aquariums , due to a lack of time and because I'll be leaving this summer and staying in France for 4 months, I have all the space left behind from them. I mean, you never really realize how big a 250 gal. aquarium is until it's gone and leaves this big void . . . and then of course take away that and about three others and you have an even larger void.

My other issue is . . . cleaning. In total the house has about twelve rooms, only about five of which I regularly: kitchen, living, dining, bed, and bath rooms. However, despite my non-usage of most of these spaces they still somehow become unclean over time, gathering dust and age and just that feeling of something . . . decomposing. After finding my kettle yesterday I went on a cleaning rampage . . . trying to void the house of every single dust particle. It didn't work. I woke up this morning and there was more dust.

Well, I'm glad I'm confronting these problems now . . . almost a year later. I'm going to go and change the music. If I listen to anymore Ida I really will fall asleep . . . and miss the time that I need to leave to go back to campus. I'm thinking Stephen Malkmus . . . or something related.

Recuperation. Rejuventation.

2009-01-18T17:55:00.003-06:00

Jazz last night was wonderful. I feel awkward saying I "boogied all night long" but that's the only way to describe it. About two years ago I enrolled in a jazz dance class (to get outside myself and relieve stress) so I know the gist of jazz dance . . . a little swing, a little jitterbug, even the Charleston. So now, I'm worn out. I woke up way past dawn, had a throbbing ache in my head and feet regions, and now am just trying to soothe all those ailments. I put on some music . . . I started with Grandaddy and am working my way down the alphabet (which usually doesn't work for me . . . but the transition from Grandaddy to Grizzly Bear to Guided by Voices to Headlights to Hercules & Love Affair isn't that bad actually). Now I should go and mill around a bit . . . It's a holiday tomorrow so all offices at the university are closed (thankfully) . . . I have to go into the eye doctor and pick up my eye glasses, though, so I can't stay in all day lounge around. Sheesh.

Rock Skippin' at the Blue Note!

2009-01-17T19:07:00.007-06:00

I'm going out to the jazzhaus tonight, which equals jazz music, tired feet from too much jittertbug and swing dancing, and a throbbing head in the morning from a combination of loud music and too much alcohol. Well, in a whole, it sounds like it's going to be a great night. To prepare for the night I put on some old Duke Ellington at about mid-afternoon . . . and just soaked it in. It was wonderful. I bopped along to the beat while messing around in the kitchen and then while I finished up the last of the 200+ papers I was grading (I kind of feel sorry for a people belonging to the assignments I graded last night . . . I didn't have Duke playing then, so I was in a less forgiving mood . . . tough break). Now I'm going to take a shower. Lounging around all day makes me smell funny.

Woke Up Late, Lost My Teakettle, Munched on Greek Pizza: Why I am the most exciting person . . . ever.

2009-01-17T11:27:00.001-06:00

I slept in too much this morning. By the time I had woken up the sun had already risen high into the mid morning sky . . . and I was sitting in the kitchen wondering the teakettle had been misplaced so I could make a strong batch of tea. I still haven't found it. I had to pull out of storage the older . . . slightly grosser . . . one I that use for cases like this. It threw of the whole morningoff when it was kind of already off to begin with.

Isn't greek pizza the most delicious food? That's what I rocked out for dinner last night (and this morning as well), instead of grilled cheese . . . and I have to say I think it was a good choice. In other news, I'm still stuck inside grading (which means being completely unenjoyable) and listening to Atlas Sound's album "Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See but Cannot Feel." After I've played through it a bit I'll move onto something more . . . upbeat.