just for fun

a very special tradition

Ella’s favorite day is Sunday. Sunday is laundry day about 90% of the time. She waits for me to go downstairs and get everything sorted. Then she sneaks up on me and wiggles her way into the mess of clothes and curls up around my feet. We’ve created a system that works fairly well. If I decide I want to move my feet I must give her a belly rub for disturbing her. If I don’t give her some lovens she gets disgruntled and snuffles at me. Rose and Peppy do not come downstairs for laundry day. They usually stay upstairs, mostly because they associate the basement with baths, but I’m beginning to wonder if it’s something else. Peppy was not my dog to begin with. He was an outside dog when I met him, and after sneaking him inside several times we became instant friends. There really was no laundry day then. I didn’t initially live with Peppy because he was Robert’s dog. When we got Rose she was already 4 months old and a very fat puppy. She never was small. She has always been a dinosaur. When she was little she was just a midget dino. Ella, however, is an entirely different story. We got her when she was barely 2 months old. She was tiny and eternally fluffy. No amount of dirt could ruin her poof. After bath day, which is usually on Saturdays, she became a solid ball of golden fluff. So, on laundry day I would throw her in the pile of dirty clothes and carry her downstairs. When the laundry was done I’d throw her back in the basket with the clean clothes and carry her upstairs, and she would stay in the basket until the very last sock found its mate. I can tell you right now that there is nothing better than a fluffy puppy in a basket of warm towels and socks. It became a tradition that only she and I shared. After a couple of months though, she, like Rose, turned into a dinosaur and her basket rides became basket pushes. When I got to the top of the stairs I would tell her to politely hop out and when we got to the bottom of the stairs she’d jump back in for the short push to the washing machine. When she could no longer fit in the basket the basket pushes stopped. I think this may be why she loves laundry day so much. It’s her special time with me. The tradition almost came to a halt a little while ago. Robert, being the thoughtful person that he is, bought me a laundry organizer. It was a wonderful thing, with three connecting baskets. When I took the laundry down and organized it into the three baskets, however there were no clothes on the floor, which is a wonderful thing if you’re not Ella! When Ella came downstairs and saw that there was nothing to curl up in her entire doggy spirit drooped, and she dejectedly went on back upstairs. Although it was a great organizer I had no other choice but to stop using it. Our tradition continues on.

Old Ways

Except for the running naked through
the forest, there's not a lot I miss.
-Brian Andreas

B is for badass. A is for justice.

I went against my good judgment just now. I just got home from a long day of class after class after class etc. and I am hungry and exhausted. I know I should get Robert packed for Atlanta, eat and get some sleep but screw it. I’m writing a blog. Sleeping and eating are overrated and I can pack his stuff while he’s sleeping. He’s working now, poor feller. He never seems to stop.
I know ALL of you are CURIOUS OUT OF YOUR EVERLASTING MINDS about how I did on my Milton presentation.
I’ll get to that later ; )
First, I am going to tell you about the HELL I went through to give it. It was the longest 50 minutes of my life. Yes, you heard me right. 50 minutes. Each presentation is supposed to run 15 minutes for both people presenting. My partner and I were covering books 9 and 12 of Paradise Lost. I went first with book 9. I discussed the power of Eve through various paintings. The teacher picked me apart for 50 solid minutes, worse than she ever did with any previous students. She wouldn’t let me complete a thought or question. She interrogated my knowledge of the paintings. She was a nightmare! When my partner presented after me she grilled him too, but was considerably lighter because she started running out of time. We walked into the class, after working hours on what we thought was a solid presentation, only to leave shaking uncontrollably.
Little did I know that the head of the entire English department (HOED) for the university had entered the room to evaluate the teacher.
Talk about bad luck.
When I saw my teacher today she told me that the HOED lady asked why she was so mean to me. The teacher said that she told HOED lady that she had waited all semester to get me back for falling asleep in her class one day during the beginning of the semester. HA! I think my teacher was just trying to be a badass. LITTLE DOES SHE KNOW THAT SHE ALREADY IS ONE AND DOESN’T NEED TO TRY ANY HARDER!
She gave me an ‘A’.
How could she not?

time for a nap

You're feeling: tired!

To your left: computers.

On your mind: How am I going to play tennis when I’m this tired? I'm also thinking about dinner tonight with robert (I hope) and my milton presentation which is tomorrow!

Last meal included: bagel. water. orange.

You sometimes find it hard to: do ANYTHING when I’m tired.

The weather: I think it’s sunny.

Something you have a collection of: books.

A smell that cheers you up: ROBERT! When he smells good of course.

A smell that can ruin your mood: bacon

How long since you last shaved: whoa there.

The current state of your hair: need a haircut, but I’m broke : (

The largest item on your desk/workspace (not computer): My Buddha frog is pretty fat.

Your skill with chopsticks: never have used them.

Which section to head for first in a bookstore: poetry

Something you're craving: oranges

Your general thoughts on the presidential race: err

How many times have you been hospitalized this year: 0

Favorite place to go for a quiet moment: outside. In the woods.

You've always secretly thought you'd be a good: drummer. HA!

Something that freaks you out a little: patterns. Such as seeing the same car everyday at the same time pulling into the same place.

Something you've eaten too much of lately: bagels

You have never: skied

You never want to: stop learning.

heard them on npr the other day

and had to share.

aliens, sympathetic elevators, cultured chickens, oddball compliments, ANTICIPATION and you guessed it! Love!

A lot has been going on lately.
In this past week I have. . .
1. written four papers:
A. Aliens interbreeding with humans (finished with Octavia Butler whew).
B. An essay arguing whether I would choose to educate children with mild/moderate or severe/profound mental retardation if I was in a different world (not Butler’s world) and there were only enough funds to support one group. My response? Surely there’s a Bill Gates in the alien world.
C. A reading response over Part 1 of Colson Whitehead’s book, The Intuitionist. I am now perfectly aware that elevators have feelings too. . . Well at least the elevators that are metaphorically depicting society do. I met one of those elevators today. It wasn’t quite organic, but I was tired and it conformed to my wishes by being present in a moment when I was unable to face the stairs.
D. A paper about. . . THE WASTE LAND. Well, not exactly The Waste Land itself. I wrote about a fancy website that deciphered the poem for me. I learned that chickens speak French through this website. No joke. One particular phrase in What the Thunder Said consisted of a bunch of nonsensical letters. When I clicked the link, the definition said that it was French for cock-a-doodle-do. That is one smart chicken folks. SOUPE DE NOUILLES DE POULET!

2. been complimented twice. Really! Remember the babysitting catastrophe at the KIAAA? Don’t get me wrong. I had a blast with the kiddos, but the last evening with Suzy was not the greatest babysitting experience I have ever had. Well, Suzy’s father called to say that she got a new doll and named it Hannah Jane. Robert and I asked if it was a voodoo doll, but no, it is not. I can honestly say that this is the first time a child has named a doll after me. I feel honored. . . I think. The second compliment I received came from Robert’s mom, Audrey. She saw my paintings in the dining room and went right out the next day and bought several canvases. She wants me to create paintings for various rooms in her new house. I am thrilled. I take any kind of positive response from her as a true blessing. This compliment went beyond a blessing. It is a darn miracle.

3. been in a fire. I cannot tell you where the fire was, but it wasn’t at my house and it wasn’t very big. Few reading this will know what I was doing when the place caught fire, but it was the most hilarious encounter I have ever had with God. I can give you more details in email if you are curious.

I am currently working on. . .
1. a wonderful surprise for my mom. It is coming along slowly, but I want it to be perfect. She will be the one to show it off when it is finished.

2. two presentations. For one I am covering the Romantic period. Easy peasy. The second, however, has become difficult because I have acquired a great deal of interest in it. I am focusing on the strengths and weaknesses of Milton’s Eve from Paradise Lost. At first I thought it was unfortunate that I accidentally signed up for book nine, but now I realize just how many possibilities I have.

As you can see there is A LOT happening around here. I am happy that the semester is finally coming to a close. I am looking forward to my nanny job and ASL classes this summer. I also cannot wait to see my mom and grandma. 5 months is far too long, but I am happy that my wait will be over soon.

Like everyone else I have a routine that I follow before I go to sleep every night. I feed the fish. Turn off the lights. Brush my teeth and wash my face. Give and receive kisses from Robert and the pups. Finish homework by lamplight. The most important ritual, however, involves a complete and total moment of peace when I can pick up one of my many cherished books by Hugh Prather and read a small dose of inspiration. I am going to share this ritual with you tonight. Enjoy.

This is from Notes on Love and Courage.

Is love in me, or is it something apart from me that works through me? I can reason either way, but I can’t deny how it feels: it feels as if there are times when I am more myself than at others. When I love spontaneously, when it simply comes out and there is no pretext or calculation, I don’t feel like either a container of some precious but foreign spirit, or like a vehicle for a thing outside of me. I feel: that which loves is me. And when the impulse is to hurt and I follow that, I feel like a betrayer, and the I has gone out of me.

-Hugh Prather

In response to Meander's belly rub. . .

This is how bellies get rubbed around here.

IF

I forgot who I stole this from. oops.


If I were a direction I’d be… around the corner
If I were furniture I’d be… a couch with books underneath the cushions
If I were a liquid I’d be… a Virgin Cuban Libre : )
If I were a sin I’d be… lust
If I were a gem/stone I’d be… Herkimer (third eye chakra)
If I were a metal I’d be… Einsteinium (radioactive in high amounts)
If I were a tree I’d be… the giving tree.
If I were a fruit I’d be… a Bosc Pear (it’s my exact shape)
If I were a flower I’d be… a sensitive Briar (Its leaves close when touched + the flowers are a poof of pink)
If I were weather I’d be… wind that can be seen in the trees but nowhere else.
If I were a music instrument I’d be… a xylophone.
If I were an element I’d be… Fire (only way to cook marshmallows)
If I were a color I’d be… the lighter side of Caucasian.
If I were an animal I’d be… a hyena. A VEGETARIAN hyena.
If I were a sound I’d be… that sound you hear when you put a plastic bottle in the spokes of your bike.
If I were a lyric I’d be…
“I'm trying to work things out
I'm trying to comprehend
Am I the chance result
Of some great accident
I hear a rhythm call me
The echo of a grand design
I spend each night in the backyard
Staring up at the stars in the sky”
Maybe There’s a Loving God by Sara Groves
If I were a song I’d be… This Journey is My Own by Sara Groves
If I were a music type I’d be… gospel
If I were a perfume/cologne I’d be… fresh air
If I were a feeling I’d be… enthusiasm
If I were a book I’d be… Notes to Myself by Hugh Prather
If I were food I’d be… a lime.
If I were a city I’d be… a dead one.
If I were a taste I’d be… a warhead on steroids.
If I were a scent I’d be… once again, fresh air.
If I were a word I’d be… collage
If I were a verb I’d be… twirling
If I were an object I’d be… a hula hoop
If I were a piece of clothing I’d be… a tennis skirt
If I were a body part I’d be… an elbow
If I were a facial expression I’d be… surprise
If I were a cartoon character I’d be… Hobbes
If I were a movie I’d be… a musical for the deaf
If I were a geometrical figure I’d be… a parallelogram
If I were one of the 4 seasons I’d be… winter
If I were a sentence I’d be… memento mori!

for Hamlet junkies

I have been on a youtube kick recently. I know it's not blog material, but I find so many awesome things I want to share.

slapping sharks

I thought this was a good quote for today.

What's that thing? I said. O, that's an oar, he said, in case
we hit a calm stretch & we decide we need more
excitement & also it's good for slapping sharks.
-bryan andreas

Hamlet again?

Yep, that's what I thought when we started reading it for one of my classes. I've already read it for two other classes. But this time somebody brought this in to share and I couldn't help but laugh.

funk and stuff

Everyone has been in a funk around here.



Even Ella. She keeps eating things she’s not supposed to. Her latest victim was one of Peppy’s favorite dog beds. Needless to say this little eccentricity of hers does not make for a happy tummy. She is also on doggie probation which means that a watchful eye or ZAPPER is always present. Yes, we zap our dogs folks. I’m well aware that ZAPPING dogs is the equivalent of spanking children. I’m down with both. We have a three way dog training device that involves a special collar for each dog and a remote. Robert is not afraid to use it. I, however, am a pushover. I don’t think I’ve ever used it on the girls, but I’m not afraid to zap peppy when he’s not obeying. Peppy purposely disobeys whereas the girls sometimes make bloopers because they are still uncertain about the rules around here. And yes, we do run a tight ship. We expect the dogs to come when called, follow basic commands, know what certain words mean, and most importantly, refrain from barking unless Robert’s mother is entering the house. I’m not sure if most people out there understand the individuality of every single living creation in this world. Dogs are no exception. Peppy’s greatest acts of rebellion involve peeing and barking. He will continue to bark, even if he’s getting zapped, if he feels there is a need for it. I usually roll him over on his back and wrap my hands around his face if he keeps barking. Yes, he can still breathe; it’s really not even an uncomfortable position. The only reason he doesn’t like it is because I am taking away his control. He also likes to bite just about anyone who enters the house. For some reason he likes to attack men and grandmothers. He is very protective of everything in the house, especially Robert and I. When I have a moment of tears I can hide anywhere in the house and he will still find me. It is one of those rare moments when he doesn’t expect anything out of me, not even a hug or kiss. He just wants to be near me. Rose, the wonder dog, hasn’t even accomplished a feat like this. She rarely gets in trouble, but when she does, she hightails it to timeout. Yes, we have a designated spot for timeout. What’s hilarious is she will make a beeline for timeout if Ella or Peppy is in trouble. She cries and whines with pure sorrow if Ella or Peppy is being punished. She demands to be with them in timeout, and if she can’t have her way she pouts. Out of every creature, human or otherwise, that I have met in my life, she is the most compassionate. She strives to please everyone and everything. She even gets offended when we squeak her most precious squeaky. She has a special squeaky that is NOT for throwing and most importantly, it should NOT be squeaked in any way whatsoever. If one of us makes either of these terrible mistakes she will take this squeaky thing to a dark corner in the house and nurse it back to health. Amazingly enough this is the only squeaky that has never had to be sewn back together. She takes better care of this squeaky than some people take care of their kids and pets. While on the subject of squeakies, there is one very important rule that I must mention. We do not allow any of their toys outside. Often they try to sneak one out when they go out to play. They understand the command, ‘drop it’ very well now so there are very few moments when a squeaky makes a getaway. If one does make it outside it is usually in the mouth of Ella. Rose, the brown nose of the family, goes on squeaky patrol and throws a fit if a squeaky makes it outside. Ella is a little like Rose, but she shares her rebellious streak with Peppy. Her biggest problem is her ingestion of inedible objects. This long list includes a yogurt container, recliner, bath poofy and most recently a dog bed. She isn’t a stuffed animal lover like rose. She loves tennis balls and kong toys. When we go to the pet store Rose will most likely want to take a ferret home. When she realizes she can’t have one she picks out a stuffed animal. Ella, on the other hand, usually picks out rope/kong toys. She is a chewer, through and through, and we are coming to terms with the fact that this may be something she just has to outgrow. Until then she will be on doggie probation.
As for the funk going on around here—it’s been a tough week for us all. Robert found out some bad news about graduation and I have been up late the past few nights, putting finishing touches on two papers. Last night was a rare moment because I actually got to fall asleep with Robert and the pups. This morning proved to be even more brilliant. We slept in until 9 and for the first time in months, shared breakfast together. I do not think we realized it then but that quaint breakfast was a celebration for the end of a particularly long funk.
As most of you know, for the first time I am watching American Idol. I have a few favorites, Syesha Mercado, David Cook and Michael Johns. I was especially fond of Mercado’s performance last night. I am not a big fan of the song she sang because dolly is too simple with it and whitney sounds like she’s trying too hard. When Syesha Mercado came out I was ready to press the fast forward button but surprise surprise! I loved the arrangement. I gave it a chance and I think you should too.