Winter

Our yard.

At least the pie is good...

So here I sit in front of my mother's clunky old desktop, wishing I had a laptop to write on so I could get something done for NaNo (which I will once again lose). My livejournal friends' page indicates that most of my college friends are scattered to their respective homes for the break (the school was only providing limited housing over break). It's also indicating that none of them are that happy to be home. Sure, it's great to see my little sisters again, but in all honesty I'd rather have gone to my boyfriend's Thanksgiving meal than my own. His family wanted me there; my family saw him walk in last night when I came back from visiting with him, and pretty much ignored him. -_-

Sure, he's not Mr. Perfect, and he acts immature sometimes - so do we all. What I don't understand is why my little sister was staring at him like she wanted to push him out the door as fast as possible, or why my mother was too busy arranging placemats to see how they'd look to even ask him about work or his family. It made me feel like he was unwanted here, which was an insult to me as much as to him. Goddamnit. My mother says the siblings are suffering from 'in-law syndrome', but that's crazy, considering mom doesn't think we should even stay together. She wants us to break up so I can shop around for someone better. The middle sister agrees and the little one, even though she's 13 and angsty, agrees in less eloquent terms - she throws adolescent insults at him ("You're nuttier than a squirrel turd!" was her favorite for a while). I am not happy about this, obviously, but I'm sure everyone's heard enough of my whining. On to Thanksgiving.

Mom got a 14lb turkey for 7 people. Yipe. She also did mashed potatoes, squash, Great-Aunt Someone's Cranberry Salad (pretty good stuff), stuffing, gravy, the works. It was good food and there was plenty of it. Then we sat around for a while and came back to the table later for pie. Mmm, pumpkin and apple with vanilla ice cream :). And then my stepbrother and his when-are-they-going-to-get-married girlfriend (they've been together since before he moved out 3 years ago) took off for home, and I washed some of the dishes before we ran out of hot water. Fun thing about living in an old house is that the water heater never quite keeps up with the demands of a family of 5, especially when all of them are at home. It also means that the dishwasher isn't a machine - it's usually a kid. I wonder how many people actually wash dishes by hand these days. Kids are missing out on so much fun...

There is what looks like two and a half feet of snow outside, most of which fell last night. This morning I was amazed by the blizzard even though I've lived in New York most of my life and should be used to the sudden winters. Back at school there was no snow yet and the roses outside Fisher Auditorium were still blooming.

Here we go again...

Here we sit like birdies in the wilderness,
Birdies in the wilderness,
Birdies in the wilderness,
Here we sit like birdies in the wilderness,
Waiting for...

My mother, who said she was leaving at 6am to get here by 8:30, is LATE. I can think up several reasons for this, though. A) I don't care if you leave at 4am, you're going to hit construction, hills and probably rain/snow on the way down here. Never have I gotten from home to the dorm in two and a half hours, even going 60 down the winding hills the whole way. B) She got up late. It invariably happens that something sets her back from the start, and it's either waking up late or sitting in front of the computer for an hour. C)She's standing outside in the cold because she forgot the phone number to my room so she can tell me she's here. If this is the case she's not only late, she's silly, because I tell her every time I see her, and I went out to get food 45 minutes ago when I expected her to be arriving, and she wasn't there. Meh.

I'm going to be rather put out if I'm late for this appointment because I didn't have a ride. It will grind the fact that I don't have my own transportation very deeply into my already tender sense of pride. I try very hard not to depend on other people if I can do it myself, and waiting for oft-late rides makes me fidgety. At least if I was driving I'd have an excuse - I've been lost ten miles from home before.

I'm finally going home for Thanksgiving - and planning on spending most of my time at home locked in my room. Actually I'm planning on spending most of the time up north away from home. I have friends to reconnect with and places to revisit and I don't want to be trapped in a smoke-filled house with my ever-present younger sisters and their special brand of insanity. I love you guys, don't get me wrong, but yikes.
..okay, mom's here. Off for another 5 hours in a car.

New Orleans Revisited

TIME Magazine reports on New Orleans. Another saddening look at the nation's inability to help itself... on any level.

We're worried about Iraq, we're trying to figure out Afghanistan, we're running legislative circles around gay rights. There are a half million political issues that people can and will get fired up about, but New Orleans isn't leading them right now. I've heard of only a few efforts to go help with cleanup and reconstruction. One of them came from a local group who went to save stray animals and bring them back for temporary housing until they were claimed or adopted. Small a thing as this is, it's help. It gets potentially dangerous or dead animals off the streets and into a warm, clean environment where they can be taken care of. It saves the lives of peoples' pets, and offers an opportunity for their owners to get on their feet before they claim their beloved companions. It keeps the streets free of dying animals, which in its small way reduces health risks for workers and residents.

There are other little things. A group here wanted to go down there over fall break, while I went to Canada, and help out. Another trip was scheduled for either Thanksgiving or Christmas. It won't be many people, I can guarantee it. But it will be help. Unfortunately these tiny student-run ventures don't get press, or great results. What can a dozen college students do, anyway? It's tough to get things organized, to get food and water and building materials shipped in, and to get people into safe housing. We can't do it alone, but here the government is tying itself in knots because of holdups with various agencies. Screw the agencies. Spend the relief money on dump trucks and bring Habitat for Humanity in. Plans for 5 years from now? What about plans for tomorrow? If I were in charge I would have settled in for a long haul - tearing down the hurricane-damaged buildings and rebuilding. What needs to be debated?

Things like this make me hate America and wish I wasn't tied to my schoolwork. We are a country of self-serving fools, and if I knew of anywhere it was radically different, I'd move immediately. At least I'd help out more, if I had the means to get to where I was needed.

Mmm, you smell like... celery?

I found this linked by a commenter over at Present Simple and thought that's interesting, I wonder exactly what scents they have. So I looked here and found the complete list. Oh, boy. They've got everything. Wouldn't you love to buy a bottle of "Pruning Shears" or "Mildew"? I stared at the list for a while. The only thing I can think to say about it is that they've got more scents than Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Beans (tm) has flavors. What, exactly, does "Celery" smell like? I'm curious. Do you think any stores around here carry these?

A Dream

I had a dream last night. I don't remember anything of what it was about, but there was a girl in it. I remember that part because she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. She was a modern Helen of Troy, the person I might steal away and someone would want to send a million war planes after. She was Plato's Form of Beauty incarnate. Flawless. Her exact appearance is a blur, though; it was only because she looked up from doing something that I noticed her at all. I think I was handing her and her friend something, and she looked up and in the dream I think she smiled, but all I really remember is the awake part of my brain snapping to attention and saying "WOW!" and then I lost the dream thread and couldn't find it again.
I have absolutely no idea why I just dreamed the most stunningly gorgeous woman in the world. I also have no idea why I tried to remember her face and thought "She looks a little bit like Tarah."
A lot of people I know say dreams mean something. I'm sure in some way they do, because there have been many times when I've been able to attribute some emotion or occurance to something that happened in my dreams, but at the same time I don't think they can ever be taken at face value. Dreams are curious things. People write books about them, give speeches about them, base careers off interpreting them. Everyone and their grandmother has their own interpretation of symbolism in dreams, too. Some people think they can read into their own, some are good at reading into other peoples'. My friend and I used to try to interpret each other's dreams, and I got pretty good at telling her things that applied to her life, but I doubt I could do it with a stranger.
Something that strikes me as odd about myself is that I can't ever remember dreaming about flying. I've heard that dreaming of flight is one of the most common dreams people have, but I don't remember even a single flight, and only two or three when I awoke because I thought I was actually falling.
On a less odd topic, it snowed all day yesterday. None of it stuck, of course, despite hope that it would. In my opinion if it's going to snow it ought to do so furiously and drop at least a foot on the ground, or leave off entirely and give us some more sunny days.
I haven't heard anything about the riots in France, or hurricane cleanup, or politics lately. Actually, national/world news hasn't been making it into hearing range much these days and I think I should read the NY Times but I don't have it. Time, that is. The newspaper is delivered daily, for free.

Death of a snowflake

Fae sits sleepily at the computer trying not to put her head down on the keyboard. A voice from the hall suddenly cuts through the computer's faint hum:
"Did you look outside yet?"
"It's snowing."

And that it is. But they'll all melt; the ground is too warm still.

Procrastination

Your Blog Should Be Green

Your blog is smart and thoughtful - not a lot of fluff. You enjoy a good discussion, especially if it involves picking apart ideas. However, you tend to get easily annoyed by any thoughtless comments in your blog.

What Color Should Your Blog or Journal Be?

My livejournal should be purple, apparently. Ha. Haha. Hahahaha.... okay, I'm done.

I'm tired of all of this, and I can see no way out except patience, but my patience is already worn through in places. I don't think I can handle two more years of this.

Today,

it looked and felt like winter.

Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine,
I'll taste your strawberries, I'll drink your sweet wine,
A million tomorrows shall all pass away,
ere I forget all the joys that are mine today.

I'll be a dandy and I'll be a rover,
you'll know who I am by the songs that I sing.
I'll feast at your table, I'll sleep in your clover,
Who cares what tomorrow shall bring?

Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine,
I'll taste your strawberries, I'll drink your sweet wine,
A million tomorrows shall all pass away,
ere I forget all the joys that are mine today.

I can't be contented with yesterday's glories,
I can't live on promises winter to spring.
Today is my moment and now is my story,
I'll laugh and I'll cry and I'll sing.

Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine,
I'll taste your strawberries, I'll drink your sweet wine,
A million tomorrows shall all pass away,
ere I forget all the joys that are mine today.

Modern art?

Someone thought it was funny...

I officially am having a BAD day now. It was a highlight to find this bit of twisted napkin-holder on one of the tables tonight, and even more of one when our manager got laughed at for saying it was a little guy ("So what's that between his legs?"). I wanted to share it in full color with you all, but apparently the send malfunctioned and since I'm broke and don't have free pix messaging, I'll let you figure it out on your own.

Oh, and Verizon? Stop with the ad campaign. I hate filling my blog with useless sales pitches...

What, therefore, should we do?

There is a new magazine starting up here in the Honors College (and soon to expand outside of it). It's called edgewise, and while I think the website could use another design opinion (or at least a flash-less version for those of us who like plain HTML), the magazine itself seems really interesting. At least, the idea does. They're going for a concept called "fusion journalism" which aims to combine six sub-areas under one umbrella topic every month. The areas range from sports to economics, which means it's got something for everyone, but it also makes one wonder exactly how they're going to manage to put everything together in a way that relates back to the core issue. Well, I'm willing to try it.

The concept, as explained by the editor, is something like our Honors Core - we take one subject or issue and look at it from a circle of disciplines. In core they're history, literature, philosophy, music, and science. In the magazine, they're Culture and Fashion, Economics, Politics and Law, Sports, Arts and Science and something else I can't remember. It's cool, in a very intellectual sense. On a random note, "cool" is now an acronym for something undiscussable... or so the boys I'm tutoring tell me. I said they were cool kids assuming that a few years wouldn't have changed the meaning of the word, and they laughed and said "eww, do you know what that means?". (Actually I have the feeling I heard them tell me or each other what it meant at the beginning of the sessions, but can't remember)

So back to Edgewise. We had a meeting tonight and discussed what the holiday issue would be about. Most of us liked the idea of doing a holiday issue related to Christmas - specifically, What is the Meaning of Christmas? It's going to be fun. We tossed out some ideas, figured out that we could pretty easily come up with some nice articles on consumerism and the Christmas spirit, and left. I like this magazine staff. They appreciate humor. :)

But the day isn't ending on the greatest of notes again. I'm falling behind in word count and suddenly have the awful feeling that November is going to look rather like October did: miserable. It seems that for every little good thing, something larger and awful happens. I guess I just want one day this month when I can sit down at the end and say "I had a wonderful day."

Powerful words

"Paki in the Middle". A poem by Salman Shaheen. I stumbled across this site while searching for the effect of the recent war(s) on Afghani poetry. My Research Writing class isn't demanding but there's just not a lot of sources out there, and when she says 'Find 8 to 15 and use only the best' it's alarming to find only four or five worth reading. There are other poems on the site which also caught my eye, but you can find them for yourself. I'm back to my research... and some more noveling.

Upsets

Nature has a sense of humor. Unfortunately, so do I. The day started out beautifully (aside from some strong gusts of wind) and when I joined the group going to the Humane Society I decided to go with the walkers because heck, it was a great day to take a walk. In fact, it was too nice to be November. Nature seemed like it was having fun by making it feel like summer again. "Nature, I hate you." I told the sky, because it's not fair to withhold weather like this until so late in the year. I could have used it last week when it was cold and icky out and I needed to feel better. Anyway... two minutes after I said that, the wind picked up and the rain started. And it just kept raining harder, and the wind got even worse, until at one point it was just blasting us with horizontal droplets. I laughed like crazy at this, especially when it quit just before we got to the HS building. So we walked in soaking wet, and were giggling about how we'd probably end up covered in cat fur. I did, too. It was a good few hours.

Then things got icky. I was cold on the way back because my jacket and jeans were still damp and the wind was still pretty strong. I got back here and talked to my boyfriend and he had some upsetting news. And then my mother called to give me more unhappy news and tell me that she didn't want me to see the neurologist after all because, hey, if one of the vertebrae is misaligned isn't it a chiropractic thing? So now she wants me to get the neurologist to look at the scans before I go in, which means I have to get the hospital to send them to the neurologist and hope that they get looked at and I get a response before the 22nd. And maybe I'll have to go to someone else instead. Joy, more running through red tape. Why couldn't they have just fucking told me it might be a problem WHILE I WAS STILL IN THE E.R.? Anyway.

And the meeting we had for my theatre group didn't get anywhere, really. A lot of people bitched about certain things and suggested the same things we've been suggesting and the president was far too agreeable with things and the only progress that was made in my opinion was the notation to appoint someone new as webmaster, because she wants to do it and our current officer is graduating.

I don't know. Things just... meh.

Oh. And my word count is currently 10,387. I'm 385 words ahead of the minimum for today. This isn't bad, but it's certainly not great considering how busy I'm going to be the next few days.

Let the madness begin!

This morning at 12:01am, thousands of sleepy writers typed the first letters of what will become an epic mountain of words: 50,000 of them. I was among the bright-eyed, caffiene-addicted crew who set off early in an attempt to capture a head start on their word counts for the month of November. Turn your inner editors off, folks - National Novel Writing Month is officially under way.

I have a title, I have a skeleton plot, and I have characters who are slowly but surely being wrapped in adjectives and thought bubbles. Eventually this will be a great novel, or at least a great attempt at holding a plot together while focusing on quantity, not quality. At least it's more preparation than last year's, and hopefully it will serve me well when I run out of ideas.

Words in my blog don't work toward my final count, so entries will probably be shorter, at least until I lose sight of the plot in week three (I hope it takes that long) and start looking for ways to distract myself from the characters screaming at me. ^_^ It's not too late to join, so if you're willing to risk your social life for the novel you always wanted to write, head over to www.nanowrimo.org and sign up - you won't regret it. :)

But stay away from the forums - I blame my utter and complete failure the last two years on that mass of procrastinating writers.