Sometimes I honestly do believe that people, in general, are beyond me.
My mother rinses off the shovel after I dig in the yard. It's a SHOVEL. You dig with it. It will get dirt on it. Yet she rinses it off each time, even after I tell her that I'll probably be using it again the next day. She also put the plants on polystyrene plates, which she put on newspaper, to keep the floor clean. Sometimes think my choice in plants might not be such a good idea after all since plants tend to need dirt and dirt is...well...dirty.
List of eye color on the N-400 USA Naturalization Form (I kid you not):
Brown, Blue, Green, Hazel, Gray, Black, Pink, Maroon, Other
Has anyone ever seen MAROON colored eyes? Is it me or does that seem a bit...creepy?
Then of course, there's always Mr. President's increase of interest in Iran. Hello?
20061226
20061221
42 degrees starboard!
It went finals, home, LA, and home again, in that order. Another Winter Solstice's coming up (tomorrow, I believe), and there is of course Christmas, New Years, and the new year.
I am at home and it has been raining on and off since nine this morning. My parents are telling me that I've missed the two coldest days while I was at LA (lucky me), but unfortunately it is still cold enough today that I was shivering even while wearing my black jacket and I couldn't feel my fingers. Then I remembered that my parents left the heater in my room and that made it all better. I think I might've been colder than necessary, though, because I've been sitting in one position for some hours reading a book (YES!), having gone and raided the library this morning. I've looked at my reading list yesterday and have formed the brilliant conclusion that I'll never completely catch up to it, but oh well, good books never get old, anyway. Now that I finished book number one out of the list of a hundred and something I suppose I ought to take go and take a break. Maybe I'll work on the Lunatics story, as that it's clearly too wet to be working in the garden. Mud is fun in moderation and only when it's not also freezing outside. The cucumbers are done for the season, and I've missed the seed-gathering because now everything'll be wet for the next three days.
Thoughts about the new year make me twitch, which is why this post isn't really about a resolution or reflections at all, in case you're wondering.
I am at home and it has been raining on and off since nine this morning. My parents are telling me that I've missed the two coldest days while I was at LA (lucky me), but unfortunately it is still cold enough today that I was shivering even while wearing my black jacket and I couldn't feel my fingers. Then I remembered that my parents left the heater in my room and that made it all better. I think I might've been colder than necessary, though, because I've been sitting in one position for some hours reading a book (YES!), having gone and raided the library this morning. I've looked at my reading list yesterday and have formed the brilliant conclusion that I'll never completely catch up to it, but oh well, good books never get old, anyway. Now that I finished book number one out of the list of a hundred and something I suppose I ought to take go and take a break. Maybe I'll work on the Lunatics story, as that it's clearly too wet to be working in the garden. Mud is fun in moderation and only when it's not also freezing outside. The cucumbers are done for the season, and I've missed the seed-gathering because now everything'll be wet for the next three days.
Thoughts about the new year make me twitch, which is why this post isn't really about a resolution or reflections at all, in case you're wondering.
20061215
The Cats are taking over our lives.
Called Cory to schedule cat-sitting yesterday, she didn't pick up the phone, left a message. Got a call from Charleen yesterday informing us that some people are interested in adopting Rushmore and will we be able to take him to the taxi-drop-off for the adoption fair this Saturday, at 9am, please. (My chem final starts at 8am on Saturday.) Some arrangemenet with Annie later it's discussed that someone may be able to come over to our place and pick up Rushmore. Sigh of relief. Discovery that Cory had called while was on the phone with Charleen. Called Cory back. Made appointment in 15 minutes. Showed Cory around when she came over and left her apartment key (mine. Note to self-- make SURE Kate's back before attempting to come back self as will not be able to unlock door otherwise). Sooth agitated kitty who's still not used to strangers. Crammed for chem. Panicked slightly about Latin as have forgotten the type of adjective "nullus" is. Checked adjective. Rechecked. Shooed Rose away from Rushmore's food. Shooed Rushmore away from Rose's food. Checked email obsessively but still no sign of paper even though deadline is once again looming in the horizon. Made note to self that may need to bring laptop on trip as otherwise will have no time to finish editing the ridiculous thing before Sun. midnight. Remembered that the said ridiculous things is 18 pages. Petitioned for the use of Kate's laptop during bus trip if own laptop runs out of battery and paper still not done. Made note to self to bring USB stick. Listened to Annie attempting to keep order in her room with two cats in it. Agreed with Annie that we should get The Cats (now denoted with capital letters because they can behave in quite unholy fashions when together)used to being locked out together, in the living room. Bribe and coaxed Rose out of my room. Close door. Sigh of relief. Help Annie get Rushmore out of the room, held the bathroom door open so he can debate whether or not to come out, eventually shooed cat out. Close door, sigh of relief. Check around for cats, quickly open door and step in. Close door. Relax slightly and stubbornly ignore any noises that might or might not be occuring outside the door.
Cat scratching door at 1am. Not fun. Ignore all noises outside of door, verse, chorus, repeat.
Then it's morning again. Got up, dressed. Open door. Rose dashes in and make pitiful noises until petted and soothed. Made bed. Looked for Rushmore. Drag Rushmore out of kitchen cabinet, got hissed at, but gave him the Stare of Determination until he exits the kitchen. Fed Rose. Shooed Rushmore away from Rose's food. Shooed Rushmore away from Rose's food again a minute later. Reasoned should feed Rushmore as well to stop the shooing process and therefore save time. Knocked on Annie's door to get food. Annie asleep. Eventually gave up and goes to brush teeth. Stop in the middle of tooth-brushing to drag Rushmore out of cabinet. Was hissed at. Squirted him with water pistol when he tried to enter again. Rushmore Is Learning. Rushmore is Not Happy about having to Learn, but he shall deal with it. Placed loaded bag of canned goods in front of cabinet to speed up Learning. Went to wash face. Shooed Rose away from Rushmore's litterbox. Moved Rose's litterbox (now officially in the bathroom, horray) and led her there to show her that see, this is where it is now.
Eat breakfast. Stop in the middle to chase Rushmore out of the kitchen. Then chase Rose out of the kitchen. The Cats are not allowed in the kitchen. Ever. (We had to draw a line somewhere.) Fish Rose's toy out of the corner of kitchen, where she has carried it. Finished breakfast.
Lost Rushmore. Checked all cabinets. Checked all corners. Called. Rechecked all cabinets. No cat. Slight panic until noticed lump moving on bed. There are two cats both in my bed. Why do I have two cats in my bed? Remove Rushmore. Remove Rose. Stopped Rushmore from entering bathroom cabinet (he does love his cabinets). Two cats in my room, lots of noises behind me, wha--
Rose dashes to my feet. Rushmore hids under my blanket. Must check to see what The Cats have done now. Latin final at 4 pm. Cheers!
[edit 12:55] Because I can. Culprit #2:
Meet Rushmore.
Cat scratching door at 1am. Not fun. Ignore all noises outside of door, verse, chorus, repeat.
Then it's morning again. Got up, dressed. Open door. Rose dashes in and make pitiful noises until petted and soothed. Made bed. Looked for Rushmore. Drag Rushmore out of kitchen cabinet, got hissed at, but gave him the Stare of Determination until he exits the kitchen. Fed Rose. Shooed Rushmore away from Rose's food. Shooed Rushmore away from Rose's food again a minute later. Reasoned should feed Rushmore as well to stop the shooing process and therefore save time. Knocked on Annie's door to get food. Annie asleep. Eventually gave up and goes to brush teeth. Stop in the middle of tooth-brushing to drag Rushmore out of cabinet. Was hissed at. Squirted him with water pistol when he tried to enter again. Rushmore Is Learning. Rushmore is Not Happy about having to Learn, but he shall deal with it. Placed loaded bag of canned goods in front of cabinet to speed up Learning. Went to wash face. Shooed Rose away from Rushmore's litterbox. Moved Rose's litterbox (now officially in the bathroom, horray) and led her there to show her that see, this is where it is now.
Eat breakfast. Stop in the middle to chase Rushmore out of the kitchen. Then chase Rose out of the kitchen. The Cats are not allowed in the kitchen. Ever. (We had to draw a line somewhere.) Fish Rose's toy out of the corner of kitchen, where she has carried it. Finished breakfast.
Lost Rushmore. Checked all cabinets. Checked all corners. Called. Rechecked all cabinets. No cat. Slight panic until noticed lump moving on bed. There are two cats both in my bed. Why do I have two cats in my bed? Remove Rushmore. Remove Rose. Stopped Rushmore from entering bathroom cabinet (he does love his cabinets). Two cats in my room, lots of noises behind me, wha--
Rose dashes to my feet. Rushmore hids under my blanket. Must check to see what The Cats have done now. Latin final at 4 pm. Cheers!
[edit 12:55] Because I can. Culprit #2:
Meet Rushmore.
20061214
It's the cat
Took final, got out early, decided to walk home. Got home, checked email, checked email again, and again, and again until finally received something from the professor informing us that his laptop had been stolen and his backup computer crashed the next day and therefore our rewrite deadline was switched to Sunday midnight.
Heaved a sigh of relief, showered, went to bed.
Got up, retrieved cat out of the box she had gotten herself into, placed baggage over box to prevent future retrievals, returned to bed.
Got up, stared around in the dark but could see nothing to explain the strange noises and pouncing that I've been experiencing, returned to bed.
Got up, dressed, made bed, fed cat, and discovered that cat has carried the one of the cat toys that I've tossed into the living room back into my room. Cute, but signifying that weaning the cat of my room had not gone well.
...
On the other hand look, blog has post tags now. This calls for a celebration (and possibly a new format). Now the only thing lj has over it is the little mood-icon thing but you know what? Being able to edit html is a thousand times worth it.
Heaved a sigh of relief, showered, went to bed.
Got up, retrieved cat out of the box she had gotten herself into, placed baggage over box to prevent future retrievals, returned to bed.
Got up, stared around in the dark but could see nothing to explain the strange noises and pouncing that I've been experiencing, returned to bed.
Got up, dressed, made bed, fed cat, and discovered that cat has carried the one of the cat toys that I've tossed into the living room back into my room. Cute, but signifying that weaning the cat of my room had not gone well.
...
On the other hand look, blog has post tags now. This calls for a celebration (and possibly a new format). Now the only thing lj has over it is the little mood-icon thing but you know what? Being able to edit html is a thousand times worth it.
20061213
Random: Stress-induced nostalgia
I think: 100 questioned bio final at 7pm tonight. I think: 18 pages to rewrite by midnight tomorrow and no one has send me the papers yet. I think: I have six different conjugations to review (not counting the imperative or the irregulars), five different declensions to go over (not counting the adjectives or the irregulars), and five sections of a play to memorize, on top of reviewing the sections on organic chemistry and nuclear chemistry (which, for some reason, also included the string theory, which is nice but utterly inexplicable).
I ended up making hot chocolate because clearly this much stress requires as much sugar to repair it as possible, even at a time as early as eight in the morning. But hey, I'm an adult, and I can have hot chocolate for breakfast if I want to. And then, after the first sip and the first glance at the grey-grey-grey sky my mind hesitates for a moment before wandering off by itself, vaguely in the "why-am-I-here" direction before heading purposefully toward the nostalgia department. Toward Beijing.
I haven't thought about Beijing for a while, mostly after I discovered thinking about it is no longer--if not strictly unpleasant, but not pleasant either. Recently, however (possibly because of the circumstances), I find myself thinking about it more often than I want to. It's almost like a frostbite: it used to hurt in the beginning, now all you can see are the white spots, but you can't feel anything, yet. You know that sometime later it will hurt but currently it's just a strange numbness that makes you curious, touching it again and again like a compulsion.
It is a little like that, but mostly not, because I know the city that I grew up in, that I have called home all the way up to my eighth grade year doesn't exist outside of my head anymore.
That is what I always admired about Europe and despised about America. Americans aren't comfortable with the concept of past. Old things are ignored, often torn down, and they stress NEW and BIG and FLASHY, building on top of the ruins of their history. Not that those things are bad, necessarily, but I have a strong preference for places where the past can exist with the present. I like cities (most of which I have only seen in pictures), where even the ruins are left standing, but there are clearly present day things there too, like electricity, internet, and cars (see, I can follow priorities).
Beijing used to be a little like that, but mostly not.
The capital of China used to be in southern China, before they moved it to Beijing. It was after the nine provinces were finally united and things have settled down a little. Beijing was picked for it's location: it's located in an area where there will never be an earthquake, tornado, or hurricane, where there are (or at least, used to be), plenty of natural springs, where it's fertile and at the center of the easiet pathway of commerce between northern and southern China.
It used to be beautiful and, growing up, I could still see the faint traces of beauty left: the yellow-gold tiered roofs downtown, the red walls and lattice-worked windows. I could see the huge trunks left on the side of street, where a row of old weeping willows used to stand, besides the--DRY creek bed? When I go through one of the parks--Summer Palace, Bei-Hai, I can imagine what the place must've been like before the Palace walls were first destroyed and Beijing because THE place to be in China. Before the first flood of people came.
I place no blames. My grandparents came from North of the Canton mountains, West of it, and of the vaguely-south-ish place near the bulge of where the rooster's stomach begins, if you imagined the map of China as that bird.
I have memories of wandering through a small path of wood with my cousin of my grandma when I was four. It was gone by the time I entered elementary school. I have memories of the small village and farm lands across the road. A shopping center now stands there, with an Ikea painted in hideous bright yellow and purple (I have nothing against Ikea. I like Ikea. I just don't approve of THAT particular color combination). I remember the small stream turning into a sewage ditch, and then later a last ditched (no pun intended, ha ha) attempt to clean it up. It was good, the attempt, but it will never be what it was before. I hear my parents tell me about the peach trees that used to grow all along this street near my grandparent's place, and how it would bloom every year, or this hill covered with date trees before they built stuff on it. I try to picture what that was like-- a Beijing with trees, flowers, and tiled roofs instead of the cement, brick, and people, but I can't. I can't picture the peach trees. I can't imagine them blooming. In my mind, my memory, the place where the trees stood are filled with people. They are not really people either, but a boiling, almost-but-not-faceless crowd that was such a common sight growing up.
Then the roads disappeared. Redrawn, rebuilt, remodeled.
I still go to Bei-Hai when I visit China, but the crowd of tourists there, the utter lack of peace sometimes makes it unbearable. (Which is a laugh, because peace in Beijing is at best an oxymoron and at the worst a cry of despair.) At other times I'm simply glad to blend in, wondering if it is as easy for the others, as it is for me, to see how I don't belong there. Not anymore. Because that was when I realized that that is all it will ever be now, with the last of the tiered roof going and all of the old trees gone, buildings and sick-looking little seedling plants in their place: it will--it can--never be more than a visit. Still, I smile a little to myself. I go to an American University, where I'm working toward a BS. I'm fluent in English and Chinese. I'm where so many would've done anything to get to and if I ever plan on going back to China I know, between a perverted urge to Americanize and corruption, that I'll never have to worry about a job.
So many want my place, yet all I can do at the present moment, it seems, is to procrastinate from studying, sip hot chocolate, and feel nostalgic for something that I sometimes think never existed outside of my head. Certainly there're almost no evidences left when I was last there. There could hardly be more if I visited now.
Maybe I'm too idealistic. Maybe I'm too masochistic. Maybe, maybe, maybe. But at least the girl who can't let go of the past is unlikely to become a woman who will repeat it.
The tiered roofs are gone, the current architecture is hideous, but at least the lights are pretty.
...
In case you are still wondering, Lucy, my previous comment about taking responsibility for the past stems a little from this.
China doesn't allow people to hold duo citizenships but nevertheless I have decided (less than week ago, actually) to apply for US citizenship anyway, and I don't think a person should claim a country without also claiming the country's history. It's like claiming the success and saying that the 101 failures of the experiment, before, belonged to someone else. It's just not right, you know?
I ended up making hot chocolate because clearly this much stress requires as much sugar to repair it as possible, even at a time as early as eight in the morning. But hey, I'm an adult, and I can have hot chocolate for breakfast if I want to. And then, after the first sip and the first glance at the grey-grey-grey sky my mind hesitates for a moment before wandering off by itself, vaguely in the "why-am-I-here" direction before heading purposefully toward the nostalgia department. Toward Beijing.
I haven't thought about Beijing for a while, mostly after I discovered thinking about it is no longer--if not strictly unpleasant, but not pleasant either. Recently, however (possibly because of the circumstances), I find myself thinking about it more often than I want to. It's almost like a frostbite: it used to hurt in the beginning, now all you can see are the white spots, but you can't feel anything, yet. You know that sometime later it will hurt but currently it's just a strange numbness that makes you curious, touching it again and again like a compulsion.
It is a little like that, but mostly not, because I know the city that I grew up in, that I have called home all the way up to my eighth grade year doesn't exist outside of my head anymore.
That is what I always admired about Europe and despised about America. Americans aren't comfortable with the concept of past. Old things are ignored, often torn down, and they stress NEW and BIG and FLASHY, building on top of the ruins of their history. Not that those things are bad, necessarily, but I have a strong preference for places where the past can exist with the present. I like cities (most of which I have only seen in pictures), where even the ruins are left standing, but there are clearly present day things there too, like electricity, internet, and cars (see, I can follow priorities).
Beijing used to be a little like that, but mostly not.
The capital of China used to be in southern China, before they moved it to Beijing. It was after the nine provinces were finally united and things have settled down a little. Beijing was picked for it's location: it's located in an area where there will never be an earthquake, tornado, or hurricane, where there are (or at least, used to be), plenty of natural springs, where it's fertile and at the center of the easiet pathway of commerce between northern and southern China.
It used to be beautiful and, growing up, I could still see the faint traces of beauty left: the yellow-gold tiered roofs downtown, the red walls and lattice-worked windows. I could see the huge trunks left on the side of street, where a row of old weeping willows used to stand, besides the--DRY creek bed? When I go through one of the parks--Summer Palace, Bei-Hai, I can imagine what the place must've been like before the Palace walls were first destroyed and Beijing because THE place to be in China. Before the first flood of people came.
I place no blames. My grandparents came from North of the Canton mountains, West of it, and of the vaguely-south-ish place near the bulge of where the rooster's stomach begins, if you imagined the map of China as that bird.
I have memories of wandering through a small path of wood with my cousin of my grandma when I was four. It was gone by the time I entered elementary school. I have memories of the small village and farm lands across the road. A shopping center now stands there, with an Ikea painted in hideous bright yellow and purple (I have nothing against Ikea. I like Ikea. I just don't approve of THAT particular color combination). I remember the small stream turning into a sewage ditch, and then later a last ditched (no pun intended, ha ha) attempt to clean it up. It was good, the attempt, but it will never be what it was before. I hear my parents tell me about the peach trees that used to grow all along this street near my grandparent's place, and how it would bloom every year, or this hill covered with date trees before they built stuff on it. I try to picture what that was like-- a Beijing with trees, flowers, and tiled roofs instead of the cement, brick, and people, but I can't. I can't picture the peach trees. I can't imagine them blooming. In my mind, my memory, the place where the trees stood are filled with people. They are not really people either, but a boiling, almost-but-not-faceless crowd that was such a common sight growing up.
Then the roads disappeared. Redrawn, rebuilt, remodeled.
I still go to Bei-Hai when I visit China, but the crowd of tourists there, the utter lack of peace sometimes makes it unbearable. (Which is a laugh, because peace in Beijing is at best an oxymoron and at the worst a cry of despair.) At other times I'm simply glad to blend in, wondering if it is as easy for the others, as it is for me, to see how I don't belong there. Not anymore. Because that was when I realized that that is all it will ever be now, with the last of the tiered roof going and all of the old trees gone, buildings and sick-looking little seedling plants in their place: it will--it can--never be more than a visit. Still, I smile a little to myself. I go to an American University, where I'm working toward a BS. I'm fluent in English and Chinese. I'm where so many would've done anything to get to and if I ever plan on going back to China I know, between a perverted urge to Americanize and corruption, that I'll never have to worry about a job.
So many want my place, yet all I can do at the present moment, it seems, is to procrastinate from studying, sip hot chocolate, and feel nostalgic for something that I sometimes think never existed outside of my head. Certainly there're almost no evidences left when I was last there. There could hardly be more if I visited now.
Maybe I'm too idealistic. Maybe I'm too masochistic. Maybe, maybe, maybe. But at least the girl who can't let go of the past is unlikely to become a woman who will repeat it.
The tiered roofs are gone, the current architecture is hideous, but at least the lights are pretty.
...
In case you are still wondering, Lucy, my previous comment about taking responsibility for the past stems a little from this.
China doesn't allow people to hold duo citizenships but nevertheless I have decided (less than week ago, actually) to apply for US citizenship anyway, and I don't think a person should claim a country without also claiming the country's history. It's like claiming the success and saying that the 101 failures of the experiment, before, belonged to someone else. It's just not right, you know?
20061212
Recap: 4 days
A few events today, one of which being that despite of this being my last payroll week, I was asked to switch to the UCD online payroll/timesheet system, which has, thus far, caused me no end of grief. This is only a slight exaggeration considering the online system is new and doesn't allow things such as editing, cancellation, and only let you submit the forms in chronological order (meaning you can't fill out the recent form until the system thinks you've got all your old forms done already). This is the problem part for me since, apparently, my last two payroll was in paper form and the data wasn't entered into the system, thereby causing the system to demand "late timesheet, submit today, please!" and much phone-calling and head-banging resulted.
I have proven, once again, that "c" is apparently the last letter in the alphabet, not "z". This is after I repeated the "z-as in the last letter in the alphabets" phrase twice, at the person's request, and still ended up with the person spelling back "c-h-... right?".
We got our temporary foster, Rushmore, last night. Rushmore is a great deal bigger and older than Rose and is currently on a diet. Appearance-wise he's orange-ish and white, short-haired, with a very blunt looking face (I have no better word to describe it). He had spend most of today under Annie's bed, since Annie's room is where his current quarter is until a permanent foster home can be found for him. Rose is not too thrilled about him, nor is he too thrilled about Rose, but so far everything's been limited to hissing and growling. Mostly though, it's Rushmore ignoring Rose who follows (actually, STALK will be more accurate) him around and hisses whenever he turns around to look at her. He growls in return. She hisses some more. They engage in an epic staring contest until one of them gets distracted and wanders off. Five minutes passes. Repeat the process. Ad infinium.
Both of them are technically allowed the run of the house, but you ought to have seen Rose's hissing fit when Rushmore tried to step in my, i.e., Rose's room. Keep in mind, please, that Rushmore is a full grown male who's about half again Rose's size.
The stare-hiss-growl repetition got a little distracting this morning while I had to watch both of them by myself, so I ended up first shutting Rose in my room, then shutting Rushmore in Annie's room, just so I can study.
Meanwhile? The staring contest continues.
I have proven, once again, that "c" is apparently the last letter in the alphabet, not "z". This is after I repeated the "z-as in the last letter in the alphabets" phrase twice, at the person's request, and still ended up with the person spelling back "c-h-... right?".
We got our temporary foster, Rushmore, last night. Rushmore is a great deal bigger and older than Rose and is currently on a diet. Appearance-wise he's orange-ish and white, short-haired, with a very blunt looking face (I have no better word to describe it). He had spend most of today under Annie's bed, since Annie's room is where his current quarter is until a permanent foster home can be found for him. Rose is not too thrilled about him, nor is he too thrilled about Rose, but so far everything's been limited to hissing and growling. Mostly though, it's Rushmore ignoring Rose who follows (actually, STALK will be more accurate) him around and hisses whenever he turns around to look at her. He growls in return. She hisses some more. They engage in an epic staring contest until one of them gets distracted and wanders off. Five minutes passes. Repeat the process. Ad infinium.
Both of them are technically allowed the run of the house, but you ought to have seen Rose's hissing fit when Rushmore tried to step in my, i.e., Rose's room. Keep in mind, please, that Rushmore is a full grown male who's about half again Rose's size.
The stare-hiss-growl repetition got a little distracting this morning while I had to watch both of them by myself, so I ended up first shutting Rose in my room, then shutting Rushmore in Annie's room, just so I can study.
Meanwhile? The staring contest continues.
20061211
Recap: Untitled
Three hours of editing. It still sounds awful. I have typed "povery" instead of "poverty" and spent an absurdly long time staring at it, wondering why it looked so odd.
At this point I think I'm willing to give up on all writing for the next month, having exceeded my monthly quota already of the ridiculous rules of this inane language.
Finals: day 1. Happy Monday to you too.
At this point I think I'm willing to give up on all writing for the next month, having exceeded my monthly quota already of the ridiculous rules of this inane language.
Finals: day 1. Happy Monday to you too.
20061210
Recap: Grumbling about schoolwork
It has been raining for a while now and, according to the forecast, there will be more rain tomorrow. Biking would be interesting, but not impossible. I'm mostly worried about my laptop which I'll need to bring to school with me because I have to write yet something else for my comp lit class (the final). I foresee plastic bags. Lots of them. And an extremely high chance of being soaked from waist-down. But hey the library has centralized heating so it shouldn't be too bad.
On the bright side, I did finish editing the ten-paged paper. Both of them. The correct term would then be "papers", I suppose. However, the glow of accomplishment faded in about five second after I started looking over my bio notes. After two hours of staring at words like "herkogamy" and "compound umbrel" I ended up puttering around the kitchen, trying to euthanise the potatoes and not think about dehiscent fruits ("dry fruits" like peas, milkweek, etc where the pod split open at maturity--see, now you've learned something to impress your friends with). What I actually did was throw away two potatoes, one of which probably would've have flowered in our cabinet if the rain kept up, and thinking obsessively about dehiscent fruits because there are all these WORDS (ohgodohgod) that I haven't memorized yet. At least, according to an recent email from the professor, I won't have to worry about the spelling. Hopefully.
My physics reader/text for next quarter is so TINY. I'm slightly worried. Isn't the seven series suppose to be harder than the one series, therefore implying possibly an actually book-sized...book?
Will finish going through bio notes today, and then the practice problems and the practice final. The practice final is worth 96 points and if I score over 86 I may work on the Lunatics story.
Oh yes, bonam fortunam to me.
[edit 14:10]
90/96, feel slightly calmer now but will amp caffeine level with another cup of tea.
On the bright side, I did finish editing the ten-paged paper. Both of them. The correct term would then be "papers", I suppose. However, the glow of accomplishment faded in about five second after I started looking over my bio notes. After two hours of staring at words like "herkogamy" and "compound umbrel" I ended up puttering around the kitchen, trying to euthanise the potatoes and not think about dehiscent fruits ("dry fruits" like peas, milkweek, etc where the pod split open at maturity--see, now you've learned something to impress your friends with). What I actually did was throw away two potatoes, one of which probably would've have flowered in our cabinet if the rain kept up, and thinking obsessively about dehiscent fruits because there are all these WORDS (ohgodohgod) that I haven't memorized yet. At least, according to an recent email from the professor, I won't have to worry about the spelling. Hopefully.
My physics reader/text for next quarter is so TINY. I'm slightly worried. Isn't the seven series suppose to be harder than the one series, therefore implying possibly an actually book-sized...book?
Will finish going through bio notes today, and then the practice problems and the practice final. The practice final is worth 96 points and if I score over 86 I may work on the Lunatics story.
Oh yes, bonam fortunam to me.
[edit 14:10]
90/96, feel slightly calmer now but will amp caffeine level with another cup of tea.
20061209
Recap: Furry alarmclocks are the best ones
Rose woke me up at around six this morning by poking me in the face with her paw, repeatedly and with her claws out. After fifteen minutes of alternating between shooing her off (which meant a return of the pointy-toed kitty in less than a minute) and ignoring her (which meant continue to suffer through the poking) I got up and fed her. Which temporarily took care of the problem. Note the word "temporarily." By seven thirty I've given up on sleeping completely and who knows, Rose might force me into scheduling my days yet.
It's getting very Christmasy around here. It's also getting very final-y, but we're not going to talk about that. There're enough people wailing about it that instead I'll talk about the Christmas tree in downtown Davis and the lights draped over the bushes. I'll talk about the group of carolers--a group of five guys all dressed in white shirts and black slacks, that I saw next to the town's tree last weekend, and the gingerbread-house-building workshops that're happening both last and this Saturday at Safeway. I'll mention the lights in the windo of the little shop called Aesop's Story House and the star-shaped lights that have been in the sushi shop two blocks down from us ever since September. I'll admit to sitting in the semi-dark for half an hour with a cup of hot chocolate and a purring cat, staring at the lighted Christmas tree until I nearly fell asleep.
And if I talk about it enough, think about it enough, maybe these will be the things I'll remember for the last two weeks of fall quarter. Maybe I'll remember the way the lights gleamed off of the ornaments instead of Ciudad Juarez in Mexico and the story behind its nickname as the City of Lost Girls. Maybe I'll remember the way Rose runs up to me each night when I come home instead of the desk in the library where I sat down one day to discover "fuck Asians" inscribed on the tabletop, and remember the professor's lectures on modern day racial discrimination and how it's repeated all over the world. If I tried hard enough maybe I will think of the smell of cinnamon and the sound of Christmas songs in the stores and not think too much about the Salvation Army volunteers standing in front of each store. And if I tried really, really hard maybe I'll think "holidays are here" instead of "holidays are here and America's still at war" or "there's still a hushed up genocide occuring at Darfur."
I can. And maybe I will, even.
At least for the holidays.
But don't worry, I'll take responsibilities for the past and the present. I'll probably have to, within a year, I expect.
It's getting very Christmasy around here. It's also getting very final-y, but we're not going to talk about that. There're enough people wailing about it that instead I'll talk about the Christmas tree in downtown Davis and the lights draped over the bushes. I'll talk about the group of carolers--a group of five guys all dressed in white shirts and black slacks, that I saw next to the town's tree last weekend, and the gingerbread-house-building workshops that're happening both last and this Saturday at Safeway. I'll mention the lights in the windo of the little shop called Aesop's Story House and the star-shaped lights that have been in the sushi shop two blocks down from us ever since September. I'll admit to sitting in the semi-dark for half an hour with a cup of hot chocolate and a purring cat, staring at the lighted Christmas tree until I nearly fell asleep.
And if I talk about it enough, think about it enough, maybe these will be the things I'll remember for the last two weeks of fall quarter. Maybe I'll remember the way the lights gleamed off of the ornaments instead of Ciudad Juarez in Mexico and the story behind its nickname as the City of Lost Girls. Maybe I'll remember the way Rose runs up to me each night when I come home instead of the desk in the library where I sat down one day to discover "fuck Asians" inscribed on the tabletop, and remember the professor's lectures on modern day racial discrimination and how it's repeated all over the world. If I tried hard enough maybe I will think of the smell of cinnamon and the sound of Christmas songs in the stores and not think too much about the Salvation Army volunteers standing in front of each store. And if I tried really, really hard maybe I'll think "holidays are here" instead of "holidays are here and America's still at war" or "there's still a hushed up genocide occuring at Darfur."
I can. And maybe I will, even.
At least for the holidays.
But don't worry, I'll take responsibilities for the past and the present. I'll probably have to, within a year, I expect.
20061208
Recap: Stress, de-stress
Blogger got a new beta out now and it's working in tandem with google. It's nice in the sense that they kept the old formats so you can still easily access the html/css codes if you need to (unlike MS, which upgrades the user interface so that the newer the version you own, the harder it is to change the basic functions such as finding the idiotic Win Messenger Function and turning it on for the duration of one week), and there're nifty new options. It's also a little scary considering that this is yet another example of how far Google can reach.
It's a little like the cyberspace version of WalMart, and though I say this jokingly if I find out that somehow they DO use certain unethical practices (which I have a nagging feeling about, anyway) I'll...oh I don't know...start writing email protests and sending them to random congress members or something. (In Gmail, now wouldn't that be ironic?)
Last chem lecture this morning. Our professor, during the last few minutes, showed us a clip he made with a student a few years back when he dressed up "incognito" (i.e. looking like a somewhat shabby college student) and went around downtown Davis to interview/ask people random questions about chemistry. My favorite conversation went something like this:
Prof. E.: Do you or your parents own a car?
Guy (possibly a random highschooler): Yeah?
Prof: So, have you ever taken the car to the mechanics?
Guy: Uh. Yeah?
Prof: Different mechanics?
Guy (gives professor a weird look): Yeah.
Prof: So, which do you like better: regular mechanics or quantum mechanics?
Guy: I...uh...sorry, what's the second one?
Prof (straight-faced): We have: the regular mechanics and the quantum mechanics.
Guy: ...I guess the quantum mechanics....
Prof: Why?
Guy: Dunno...Guess they're better or something.
And then while the TAs are passing out the course evaluations he told us what he did last weekend, which involved his wife getting and decorating a tree while he took all the old test tube cleaners (by old I mean the ones with wooden handles)that the chem department threw away and was tossing them into the fireplace to watch them burn. He told us how they light up like fireworks because the students had to use them for all these labs and they got all these ions on them.
This is one chem professor that I will miss.
Also, Lucy, the sad thing is, the email is actually not written to be complicated on purpose. Though I have no idea why she'd ask the undergrads since it's usually the grad students with the treated genetic material. We (undergrads) tend to get more lecture/fieldtrip emails.
Yes, I'm at that stage again where the amount of drawing and writing I churn out per two day period actually goes up despite of the decrease in available time. It's how I deal with stress--by working more (which, come to think of it, is probably hellishly unhealthy on the long run). Did an inventory yesterday and discovered that I'm down to my last working black ballpoint pen (I waste ink, esp. when drawing) and that I need a sharpie. Well, things to petition for over the winter break. Along with a new pair of gloves since I lost one of mine this Monday and am only still in possession of all my fingers only because Annie has been kind enough to loan me a pair of hers. The mornings are freezing.
Okay, this is as long as I can put off a ten-paged incoherency. Time to go essay-editing.
It's a little like the cyberspace version of WalMart, and though I say this jokingly if I find out that somehow they DO use certain unethical practices (which I have a nagging feeling about, anyway) I'll...oh I don't know...start writing email protests and sending them to random congress members or something. (In Gmail, now wouldn't that be ironic?)
Last chem lecture this morning. Our professor, during the last few minutes, showed us a clip he made with a student a few years back when he dressed up "incognito" (i.e. looking like a somewhat shabby college student) and went around downtown Davis to interview/ask people random questions about chemistry. My favorite conversation went something like this:
Prof. E.: Do you or your parents own a car?
Guy (possibly a random highschooler): Yeah?
Prof: So, have you ever taken the car to the mechanics?
Guy: Uh. Yeah?
Prof: Different mechanics?
Guy (gives professor a weird look): Yeah.
Prof: So, which do you like better: regular mechanics or quantum mechanics?
Guy: I...uh...sorry, what's the second one?
Prof (straight-faced): We have: the regular mechanics and the quantum mechanics.
Guy: ...I guess the quantum mechanics....
Prof: Why?
Guy: Dunno...Guess they're better or something.
And then while the TAs are passing out the course evaluations he told us what he did last weekend, which involved his wife getting and decorating a tree while he took all the old test tube cleaners (by old I mean the ones with wooden handles)that the chem department threw away and was tossing them into the fireplace to watch them burn. He told us how they light up like fireworks because the students had to use them for all these labs and they got all these ions on them.
This is one chem professor that I will miss.
Also, Lucy, the sad thing is, the email is actually not written to be complicated on purpose. Though I have no idea why she'd ask the undergrads since it's usually the grad students with the treated genetic material. We (undergrads) tend to get more lecture/fieldtrip emails.
Yes, I'm at that stage again where the amount of drawing and writing I churn out per two day period actually goes up despite of the decrease in available time. It's how I deal with stress--by working more (which, come to think of it, is probably hellishly unhealthy on the long run). Did an inventory yesterday and discovered that I'm down to my last working black ballpoint pen (I waste ink, esp. when drawing) and that I need a sharpie. Well, things to petition for over the winter break. Along with a new pair of gloves since I lost one of mine this Monday and am only still in possession of all my fingers only because Annie has been kind enough to loan me a pair of hers. The mornings are freezing.
Okay, this is as long as I can put off a ten-paged incoherency. Time to go essay-editing.
20061207
Recap: More Untitled
Because I'm not up to coming up with a title, and it's unlikely that I'll say something here, in this post, that's worthy of a title anyway.
And yeah, Lucy, sorry about the extremely mangled post. That was me trying to type something in two minutes while thinking "ohgodohgod I SO did not leave enough time for this." But then again, you've dealt with my story updates during the finals, only those had MS Word as the first line of defense, so perhaps you had to suffer (slightly) less.
As you can see by the decreased updating frequency in this blog, things are really beginning to get interesting here. (I have a group paper due on Friday. It is Thursday, and my group member still hasn't sent me her part yet. I think I'll start panicking now.)On one hand, there will be a whole lot less stuff to do for each class. On the other hand, however, there will be SO much more cramming and exam-related stuff. I'm not sure if they will balance out at the end. Actually, I know they won't.
During my last two days of work I have planted carmines, tore up what could've been periwinkles but also could have been just some random groundcover with light-violet five-petaled flowers; tore up marigolds (actually Donald did that...and hypothesized whether going over the dirt with a flame torch will eliminate the weeds for once and for all), and in the process of all this accidentally dug up some left-over daffodil bulbs (or possibly some other daffodil-type plants). And by digging up I mean "nearly chopped them all into halves with a hoe." We (my coworkers and I) were suppose to throw those away but being me, I took a few home and stuck them in a pot (two pots, in fact) and wondered if they'd grow. They should; now's the right season to plant bulbs.
The mysterious vine that I've accidentally clipped while swabbing the greenhouse have rooted. I wonder where I'll stick them. I also own Kate a succulent plant, having killed hers.
Have successfully weaned Rose of her cage, am now attempting to migrate her litter box to the bathroom. Half a meter at a time. Meanwhile she continues to pounce on the one poor paper crane that I've left out. It's starting to resemble...nothing like a paper crane.
[Edit 19:38]
Oh the emails you get for being a registered plant-bio major:
Hello everyone,
I was wondering if someone had Cesium Chloride-purified Arabidopsis
genomic DNA and would be willing to share half a microgram with me?
Thanks in advance,
Julie
In case you're wondering, this is what Arabidopsis looks like. And that email cracked me up because mainly, I think, it makes me think of those emails I got last year from my dormmates where girls typed things such as "does anyone have a gold-colored handbag that I can borrow for one evening" etc.
This year I get emails asking for plant gene materials.
I must be moving up in the world.
And yeah, Lucy, sorry about the extremely mangled post. That was me trying to type something in two minutes while thinking "ohgodohgod I SO did not leave enough time for this." But then again, you've dealt with my story updates during the finals, only those had MS Word as the first line of defense, so perhaps you had to suffer (slightly) less.
As you can see by the decreased updating frequency in this blog, things are really beginning to get interesting here. (I have a group paper due on Friday. It is Thursday, and my group member still hasn't sent me her part yet. I think I'll start panicking now.)On one hand, there will be a whole lot less stuff to do for each class. On the other hand, however, there will be SO much more cramming and exam-related stuff. I'm not sure if they will balance out at the end. Actually, I know they won't.
During my last two days of work I have planted carmines, tore up what could've been periwinkles but also could have been just some random groundcover with light-violet five-petaled flowers; tore up marigolds (actually Donald did that...and hypothesized whether going over the dirt with a flame torch will eliminate the weeds for once and for all), and in the process of all this accidentally dug up some left-over daffodil bulbs (or possibly some other daffodil-type plants). And by digging up I mean "nearly chopped them all into halves with a hoe." We (my coworkers and I) were suppose to throw those away but being me, I took a few home and stuck them in a pot (two pots, in fact) and wondered if they'd grow. They should; now's the right season to plant bulbs.
The mysterious vine that I've accidentally clipped while swabbing the greenhouse have rooted. I wonder where I'll stick them. I also own Kate a succulent plant, having killed hers.
Have successfully weaned Rose of her cage, am now attempting to migrate her litter box to the bathroom. Half a meter at a time. Meanwhile she continues to pounce on the one poor paper crane that I've left out. It's starting to resemble...nothing like a paper crane.
[Edit 19:38]
Oh the emails you get for being a registered plant-bio major:
Hello everyone,
I was wondering if someone had Cesium Chloride-purified Arabidopsis
genomic DNA and would be willing to share half a microgram with me?
Thanks in advance,
Julie
In case you're wondering, this is what Arabidopsis looks like. And that email cracked me up because mainly, I think, it makes me think of those emails I got last year from my dormmates where girls typed things such as "does anyone have a gold-colored handbag that I can borrow for one evening" etc.
This year I get emails asking for plant gene materials.
I must be moving up in the world.
20061130
Recap: Untitled
It's been gradually getting colding still, in Davis. Last year, I didn't think much about it on the account of it being two people (occasionally three) in a small room in a dorm room where our temperature control was a range of four degrees F. This year I suppose I can keep track of how cold it can get by the amount of time we've used the heater. Multiplied by an unknown factor, M, for malfunctioning, since according to Kate the heater's not working as it's suppose to. (I really have no idea since I spend about twelve hours home on the weekdays, and eight to nine hours of those time I spend sleeping.)
Rose has taken to hidding under my covers and sleeping during the day time, when no one's around. I suppose that's another indication of the temperature: coldness variable equals the number of times a heater is used, times M, plus the hours spent under the covers by one heat-loving kitty. Plus or minus the uncertainly values, of course, such as how hungry she's feeling at the time and whether or not she's stoned on catnip (random note: stoned kitties are funny).
Report, quiz, report, quiz, report, finals, rewrites, finals. In that order. For some reason the chem finals always end up the last, especially the undergrad pre-req finals. I think we get the lowest priority when it comes to finals-scheduling which is completely understandableon the overall scheme of things and, therefore, totally inexcuseable.
Out. Class now.
Rose has taken to hidding under my covers and sleeping during the day time, when no one's around. I suppose that's another indication of the temperature: coldness variable equals the number of times a heater is used, times M, plus the hours spent under the covers by one heat-loving kitty. Plus or minus the uncertainly values, of course, such as how hungry she's feeling at the time and whether or not she's stoned on catnip (random note: stoned kitties are funny).
Report, quiz, report, quiz, report, finals, rewrites, finals. In that order. For some reason the chem finals always end up the last, especially the undergrad pre-req finals. I think we get the lowest priority when it comes to finals-scheduling which is completely understandableon the overall scheme of things and, therefore, totally inexcuseable.
Out. Class now.
20061123
Recap: Holiday at home
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone, even if it isn't the holiday you'd traditionally celebrate. It's always good to have a day where you can take a moment aside and reflect on what you have and be thankful for it.
Of course, most of the people I've encountered in the past few days never looked beyond the food and the shopping of today and tomorrow, but that's beyond the point.
So-- it's Thanksgiving, and I'm at home. The tomatos are somehow miraculously alive still, and have even given out little fruits that are green and about the size of sugar-peas. I still have a paper (formerly ten pages, now holding at eleven) to finish editing and half a bio report to type up. Mostly though I'm just amused by my lit teacher's side comment, on a certain section of the paper, as it being "too academic." After eight hours of drilling about scientific, i.e. academic writing, I can't just dismantle everything I know and switch gears at a snap of the fingers (though I'm at the point where I wish I could because oh--how much time that'd save me, to say nothing of the efforts). The easiest way to go about it is probably to go and read something that's actually literature, and not scientific text, but at the current stage that might still take too long.
That's my Thanksgiving so far, my parents are off working on something or the other and most of the cacti that I brought home the other time have died, how's yours?
I got another cmera. I think. (The sudden and inexplicable sentence parallels the sudden and inexplicable arrival of the camera.)
Of course, most of the people I've encountered in the past few days never looked beyond the food and the shopping of today and tomorrow, but that's beyond the point.
So-- it's Thanksgiving, and I'm at home. The tomatos are somehow miraculously alive still, and have even given out little fruits that are green and about the size of sugar-peas. I still have a paper (formerly ten pages, now holding at eleven) to finish editing and half a bio report to type up. Mostly though I'm just amused by my lit teacher's side comment, on a certain section of the paper, as it being "too academic." After eight hours of drilling about scientific, i.e. academic writing, I can't just dismantle everything I know and switch gears at a snap of the fingers (though I'm at the point where I wish I could because oh--how much time that'd save me, to say nothing of the efforts). The easiest way to go about it is probably to go and read something that's actually literature, and not scientific text, but at the current stage that might still take too long.
That's my Thanksgiving so far, my parents are off working on something or the other and most of the cacti that I brought home the other time have died, how's yours?
I got another cmera. I think. (The sudden and inexplicable sentence parallels the sudden and inexplicable arrival of the camera.)
20061121
Recap: A little extra time
This week there are no labs, as far as I know, for any of the UCD classes. Consequently that means that I got four extra hours yesterday to cram for my bio midterm (which I still possibly flunked, because on top of the technicalities of plants having both haploid and diploid phrases of life, there was a cladogram that I had to fill in and I DID NOT remember where each character of the land plants evolved from). End of sneaky parenthetical rant. Really. Another indirect result is me getting off of work early now with three and a half extra hours, since half of my job is, supposidely, to prep for the student's labs. Therefore, after packaging the pepper seeds for half an hour (aka sneezing off your nose for half an hour) I'm able to go home and, apparently, sit in front of my laptop and type up this blog entry. Don't think I have to go to work tomorrow, either, which is nice because it means my day will end at ten. In the morning. Such a thing does not often happen.
I think my erratic schedule this week is scaring Kate a little. (I have a very light schedule once you've taken off work and all the labs. Such is the life of a science major.)
Have to send Rose to Gabrielle's place tonight and am feeling a little depressed about that, especially since she's making so much progress right now and sending her away to an alien environment might actually force her to take a step back in terms of socialization. She's gotten used to me to the point where she knows she can walk all over me (literally) in the middle of the night and suffer from nothing more than an extremely disgruntled "Rose, ge'off" (and a light push when I'm feeling more energetic). She has just jumped onto my lap and bumped her head against the table in the process. Yep, still a little uncoordinated. That goes for both of us.
To Thanksgiving and the blessed holidays we go.
I think my erratic schedule this week is scaring Kate a little. (I have a very light schedule once you've taken off work and all the labs. Such is the life of a science major.)
Have to send Rose to Gabrielle's place tonight and am feeling a little depressed about that, especially since she's making so much progress right now and sending her away to an alien environment might actually force her to take a step back in terms of socialization. She's gotten used to me to the point where she knows she can walk all over me (literally) in the middle of the night and suffer from nothing more than an extremely disgruntled "Rose, ge'off" (and a light push when I'm feeling more energetic). She has just jumped onto my lap and bumped her head against the table in the process. Yep, still a little uncoordinated. That goes for both of us.
To Thanksgiving and the blessed holidays we go.
20061119
Recap: Sunday fun
This weekend we had fun with doors.
More specifically, this weekend Annie and I had fun with our bathroom doors (and by "fun" I mean "various issues").
The bathroom has two doors, one of the sliding type and one with a regular doorknob. Yesterday, while Annie was trying to close the sliding door, something broke and door suddenly lost its ability to slide which, as you might imagine, is an issue for a slide door. Upon investigation we have discovered that the door has no track to roll on at the bottom, and apparently whatever broke broke at the top, where the door is set into the wall. We can't see what's wrong, and it was only by partially lifting and shoving the door that we managed to close it at all. We left a note with the management who promised people who will come and resolve the issue, hopefully on Monday.
So, one door down, one more to go, said some unknown god of Murphy's Law.
This morning, when Annie tried to enter via the other door to take a shower (we have the habit of leaving that door closed, now that Rose is being trained to the living room and the hallway) she found the door locked. As in locked out. Consequently I had to take apart the outside half of the lock so she could get in and after I reinstalled that it was discovered that that door didn't, in fact, lock. So post shower, post morning, post everything, I took down both sides of the lock (knobs, screws, and all) and discovered that the inside half wasn't aligned properly. Re-installation was needed-- but at least this, unlike the sliding door, was something I could do. Now the bathroom of two doors has one functional door and it remains to be seen what will become of the other one.
Alas, the poor striken door.
On the other hand, I have called Gabrielle from FFO and she's very nice and agreed to cat-sit Rose over Thanksgiving (Winter Break remains a mysterious nightmare that I have yet to deal with). Charleen called the other night and after some quick decisions we'll also be temporarily fostering another kitty after Thanksgiving, until a permanent foster home can be found for him (or, as Charleen has hinted, we decide that we'll foster the other cat too). He. Yes, it's a 'he'. Short-haired orange tabby of undetermined age and name. At least he's already fully socialized and can be treated just like a normal cat. Rose is still getting there and so this new temp will be Annie's reponsibility.
We'll see how this goes.
More specifically, this weekend Annie and I had fun with our bathroom doors (and by "fun" I mean "various issues").
The bathroom has two doors, one of the sliding type and one with a regular doorknob. Yesterday, while Annie was trying to close the sliding door, something broke and door suddenly lost its ability to slide which, as you might imagine, is an issue for a slide door. Upon investigation we have discovered that the door has no track to roll on at the bottom, and apparently whatever broke broke at the top, where the door is set into the wall. We can't see what's wrong, and it was only by partially lifting and shoving the door that we managed to close it at all. We left a note with the management who promised people who will come and resolve the issue, hopefully on Monday.
So, one door down, one more to go, said some unknown god of Murphy's Law.
This morning, when Annie tried to enter via the other door to take a shower (we have the habit of leaving that door closed, now that Rose is being trained to the living room and the hallway) she found the door locked. As in locked out. Consequently I had to take apart the outside half of the lock so she could get in and after I reinstalled that it was discovered that that door didn't, in fact, lock. So post shower, post morning, post everything, I took down both sides of the lock (knobs, screws, and all) and discovered that the inside half wasn't aligned properly. Re-installation was needed-- but at least this, unlike the sliding door, was something I could do. Now the bathroom of two doors has one functional door and it remains to be seen what will become of the other one.
Alas, the poor striken door.
On the other hand, I have called Gabrielle from FFO and she's very nice and agreed to cat-sit Rose over Thanksgiving (Winter Break remains a mysterious nightmare that I have yet to deal with). Charleen called the other night and after some quick decisions we'll also be temporarily fostering another kitty after Thanksgiving, until a permanent foster home can be found for him (or, as Charleen has hinted, we decide that we'll foster the other cat too). He. Yes, it's a 'he'. Short-haired orange tabby of undetermined age and name. At least he's already fully socialized and can be treated just like a normal cat. Rose is still getting there and so this new temp will be Annie's reponsibility.
We'll see how this goes.
20061118
Recap: You have to wonder
Sometimes mail can say very strange things, such as the sentence that went somewhere along the lines of "if you've been unexpected terminated". I suppose, then, that the insurance will not cover expected termination?
Euphemism. The mark of higher society as well as bureaucracy. The wonderful, wonderful ways you can take to say whatever you want without actually saying it. Central cause of paranoia and the proof of the power of words. Dumbledore would've agreed with me: You Know Who sounds much more intimidating than just Voldemort, and a word has no power except what people grant it.
We've given a lot of words more power than they should've have.
Random, but continuous hours of staring at notes does get to one's (already questionable) sanity.
Know what else's interesting? Lactose-free milk. It's like selling citric-acid ( ~ vitaminc c) -free oranges. And no, those do not currently exist (yet), to my knowledge.
Euphemism. The mark of higher society as well as bureaucracy. The wonderful, wonderful ways you can take to say whatever you want without actually saying it. Central cause of paranoia and the proof of the power of words. Dumbledore would've agreed with me: You Know Who sounds much more intimidating than just Voldemort, and a word has no power except what people grant it.
We've given a lot of words more power than they should've have.
Random, but continuous hours of staring at notes does get to one's (already questionable) sanity.
Know what else's interesting? Lactose-free milk. It's like selling citric-acid ( ~ vitaminc c) -free oranges. And no, those do not currently exist (yet), to my knowledge.
20061117
Recap: Untitled
It was very wet this morning, and it wasn't even raining.
The windows (yep, 2, isn't that great?) in my room overlooks the narrow parking lot into the next series of apartment complexes, so looking outside of it, I didn't realize just how foggy it was until later. That was what was wet. The fog. There was a lot of it and from what I saw this morning the residual patches hung around for quite a while. The main things, however, was there and very cold and clammy it was. My hair was actually wet by the time I showed up in my testing room and I did not ride through a rain, just very thick patches of fog.
If it weren't so cold and wet it'd be very neat, actually, because everything outside of the 10 feet zone of me was gray-white and everything familiar looked very alien. Davis this morning looked uncharacteristically exotic.
I blanked out on a problem on the midterm and mixed up the orbitals and possibly declined stuff wrong in the quiz that followed the midterm. On the other hand-- another week over, yay, and my lit teacher has shifted his essay deadlines back (mostly because he hadn't came up with a theme yet).
Rose is at the "tentative-exploration-of-the-house" stage and has stolen one of my pens today, when I wasn't looking, to take with her to her corner of the room to gnaw on. I think I must have very attractive school-things. Or at least, very attractive to household pets school things. Lucy made off with part of my chem lab manual the other time and made an attempt at my chem book last night (which is rather sad, actually, because come on, it's CHEM) and Rose has developed a fondness for my writing implements and on occasions can be caught napping on my binder).
Thanksgiving next week.
Huh.
The windows (yep, 2, isn't that great?) in my room overlooks the narrow parking lot into the next series of apartment complexes, so looking outside of it, I didn't realize just how foggy it was until later. That was what was wet. The fog. There was a lot of it and from what I saw this morning the residual patches hung around for quite a while. The main things, however, was there and very cold and clammy it was. My hair was actually wet by the time I showed up in my testing room and I did not ride through a rain, just very thick patches of fog.
If it weren't so cold and wet it'd be very neat, actually, because everything outside of the 10 feet zone of me was gray-white and everything familiar looked very alien. Davis this morning looked uncharacteristically exotic.
I blanked out on a problem on the midterm and mixed up the orbitals and possibly declined stuff wrong in the quiz that followed the midterm. On the other hand-- another week over, yay, and my lit teacher has shifted his essay deadlines back (mostly because he hadn't came up with a theme yet).
Rose is at the "tentative-exploration-of-the-house" stage and has stolen one of my pens today, when I wasn't looking, to take with her to her corner of the room to gnaw on. I think I must have very attractive school-things. Or at least, very attractive to household pets school things. Lucy made off with part of my chem lab manual the other time and made an attempt at my chem book last night (which is rather sad, actually, because come on, it's CHEM) and Rose has developed a fondness for my writing implements and on occasions can be caught napping on my binder).
Thanksgiving next week.
Huh.
20061110
Recap: On the other hand
Annie, the dill has sprouted and I've taken over one of your pots to experiment with the two broken off tips of lycopodium that my disgruntled lab partner thrusted at me, telling me that "here, you can have a new pet."
The weather has been MOST uncompromising. Feel sorry for my parents, they have to drive all the way here tomorrow, and then all the way back.
The weather has been MOST uncompromising. Feel sorry for my parents, they have to drive all the way here tomorrow, and then all the way back.
20061109
Recap: Untitled
This has been the most eventful week since the beginning of the school year, and I'm thankful that it's only four days. Mostly though, I just wish that my comp lit professor will stop giving us impromptu GROUP (yep, required) writing projects. That eat up much of my time like you wouldn't believe. On the other hand, I believe I have achieved a new level of patience.
Will have to go to work tomorrow morning but at least won't have to wake up at seven-- except Rose will probably wake me up at six. Well, won't have to wake up at seven to GO TO CHEM which is really quite an improvement anyway. Have let Lucy out for a bit already earlier, as both of my roommates have gone home for the weekend. Kate, if you're reading this-- I think your rabbit-pouncing has actually made Lucy more sociable. Enough so that I, suffering from a 39-chem-prelab-slides headache, was allowed to rest my head on her for a while. She makes a good pillow (joking, joking-- of course I wouldn't drop the full weight on her, even if she'll let me, which she probably won't). I'm currently very appreciative of the fact that she does not have cat breath.
Rose says "Mrrw?" and then stalks away, apparently offended that I didn't spend 30 + minutes fussing over her tonight like I did last night, after she had been hauled out of my blanket, where she was hiding, to receive her shot.
On the other hand, Annie, I think you did forget your pomegranate, after all. I'm sticking it on the top shelf just so it won't end up morphing away in the cold forgotten back corners of our fridge.
Slightly horrific to-do list tomorrow but you know what-- it's a three day weekend, and I'm training Rose to let me sleep in!
Will have to go to work tomorrow morning but at least won't have to wake up at seven-- except Rose will probably wake me up at six. Well, won't have to wake up at seven to GO TO CHEM which is really quite an improvement anyway. Have let Lucy out for a bit already earlier, as both of my roommates have gone home for the weekend. Kate, if you're reading this-- I think your rabbit-pouncing has actually made Lucy more sociable. Enough so that I, suffering from a 39-chem-prelab-slides headache, was allowed to rest my head on her for a while. She makes a good pillow (joking, joking-- of course I wouldn't drop the full weight on her, even if she'll let me, which she probably won't). I'm currently very appreciative of the fact that she does not have cat breath.
Rose says "Mrrw?" and then stalks away, apparently offended that I didn't spend 30 + minutes fussing over her tonight like I did last night, after she had been hauled out of my blanket, where she was hiding, to receive her shot.
On the other hand, Annie, I think you did forget your pomegranate, after all. I'm sticking it on the top shelf just so it won't end up morphing away in the cold forgotten back corners of our fridge.
Slightly horrific to-do list tomorrow but you know what-- it's a three day weekend, and I'm training Rose to let me sleep in!
20061031
Recap: Randomly at will
Pyrotechnical display is just a fancy word for fireworks.
Daylight saving has ended and the days are one hour later now. Though I understand that in a way, this signified the beginning of winter, the weather change yesterday was ridiculous. It was even foggy outside, when I left. And it was cold enough that this morning I got out my poofy jacket, all ready to go.
Annie was moaning earlier today about bio. Or more specifically, about something along the lines of "bio is killing me in slow and painful ways". Added to her list of grievances is her eight 'o clock o-chem class. Once the nights get longer, gloom seeps in either but hey, all in the spirit of All Hallow's Eve, yes?
Class reg yesterday for me. 16 credits so far. Annie had taken a look at my schedule and pronounced me to be insane. I was not encouraged by the fact, but oh well, I'll take it as it comes.
Rose has had the free run of my room for three days now, and is currently deriving much pleasure from stalking the cat-nip-scented toy that Annie brought back over the weekend. (It's dead, Rose. DEAD. You may stop trying to kill it now.) She's also been sleeping outside for two nights, making it a very restless night for me the first night out and a very wary one the second. Last night she has migrated up the bed and eventually slept on my head (her breath's awful, for future references) so this morning I found my hair sticking out in all directions I've never thought possible before, despite of my discovery over the summer that I have, apparently, the type of hair that sticks up if clipped short enough. Hats are wonderful things.
And there will be lectures and work and homework and much rejoicing (with candy, of course) when it's all over. Cheers.
Daylight saving has ended and the days are one hour later now. Though I understand that in a way, this signified the beginning of winter, the weather change yesterday was ridiculous. It was even foggy outside, when I left. And it was cold enough that this morning I got out my poofy jacket, all ready to go.
Annie was moaning earlier today about bio. Or more specifically, about something along the lines of "bio is killing me in slow and painful ways". Added to her list of grievances is her eight 'o clock o-chem class. Once the nights get longer, gloom seeps in either but hey, all in the spirit of All Hallow's Eve, yes?
Class reg yesterday for me. 16 credits so far. Annie had taken a look at my schedule and pronounced me to be insane. I was not encouraged by the fact, but oh well, I'll take it as it comes.
Rose has had the free run of my room for three days now, and is currently deriving much pleasure from stalking the cat-nip-scented toy that Annie brought back over the weekend. (It's dead, Rose. DEAD. You may stop trying to kill it now.) She's also been sleeping outside for two nights, making it a very restless night for me the first night out and a very wary one the second. Last night she has migrated up the bed and eventually slept on my head (her breath's awful, for future references) so this morning I found my hair sticking out in all directions I've never thought possible before, despite of my discovery over the summer that I have, apparently, the type of hair that sticks up if clipped short enough. Hats are wonderful things.
And there will be lectures and work and homework and much rejoicing (with candy, of course) when it's all over. Cheers.
20061028
Recap: A picture's worth
Photo entry!
Gotta love one of these, eh?
All done just this morning. With labels for your amusement.
Bienvenido a mi casa. Or should I say, a nos casa?
Cat picture at the very bottom, so keep scrolling down. How's that for an incentive?
Gotta love one of these, eh?All done just this morning. With labels for your amusement.
Bienvenido a mi casa. Or should I say, a nos casa?
Cat picture at the very bottom, so keep scrolling down. How's that for an incentive?
20061027
Recap: It's green AND it wiggles
This week has been stressful. As predicted, group papers, much like group projects, means that the overall efficiency per person decreases while the total time spend on project increases. I had three hours of extra time on Sunday because the others didn't send in their stuff, and, try as I might, the efficiency of three hours on a Sunday was not enough to cover for the toll of the midterms week.
There, enough of that kind of language-- let's see if anything interesting has happened to me this week. Checking. Checking.
And the answer is, no, most assuredly. I can tell you about my midterms but that will either give people heartattacks or bore them to sleep, depending on the person. Rose is progressing slowly in terms of socialization and I'm currently at the point where I'm debating between getting her used to being picked up and getting her used to living outside the cage. Annie has donated some spare towels to day, and the most shredded one will, very likely, end up as the cat's chew toy. We also talked of starting our own herb garden indoors eventually, from the other day when I adopted the peas. Kate and I carved a pumpkin this afternoon and there are no reported human casualities. Annie's mom said that she'll be missing out on all the blood and it turns out that we're missing out, too. For some reason I don't feel particularly regretful.
Well-- onwards then. Possibly two more midterms next week, and then there's always the class registration....
There, enough of that kind of language-- let's see if anything interesting has happened to me this week. Checking. Checking.
And the answer is, no, most assuredly. I can tell you about my midterms but that will either give people heartattacks or bore them to sleep, depending on the person. Rose is progressing slowly in terms of socialization and I'm currently at the point where I'm debating between getting her used to being picked up and getting her used to living outside the cage. Annie has donated some spare towels to day, and the most shredded one will, very likely, end up as the cat's chew toy. We also talked of starting our own herb garden indoors eventually, from the other day when I adopted the peas. Kate and I carved a pumpkin this afternoon and there are no reported human casualities. Annie's mom said that she'll be missing out on all the blood and it turns out that we're missing out, too. For some reason I don't feel particularly regretful.
Well-- onwards then. Possibly two more midterms next week, and then there's always the class registration....
20061020
Recap: Feuille
The amount of time spent per class, as usual increases dramatically with the arrival of midterms. This has been a particularly eventful week with what I hope was the longest Monday this school year (hope, since I don't care to repeat the experience, ever again. There's a certain limit to the number of hours I'm willing to spend at school, and this's pushing it).
There are other events too, such as the final arrival of our foster kitten, Rose (will post picture within two weeks, promise). A description? Of course. Rose is a four-month old black and brown, medium haired tabby found in a litter of four in an abandoned attic/roof type place. She's, so far, petite with ears still on the large-ish side as typical of kittens. She also has round, terrified looking gold-eyes, which slowly gets less terrified looking and round as I chant my text at her. Eventually she event went to sleep during parts of it (proving that 1. textbooks really are that boring and 2. that textbooks are actually good for something such as, say, putting a high-strung kitten to sleep). Though she did purr through the bit about oxalate ion during chem, much to my bemusement.
I also adopted five pea-plants from my bio lab, from when our group did the gibberellin experiment. We had the option of either throwing it or adopting it, so of course I adopted the one for our group (there were two pots of five plants each for each group of five people). My labmates are amused by my tendency to adopt plants. So where my parents, come to think about it. My roommates are, however, the ones who will have to deal with it.
Am mostly caught up in terms of homework now. Still have one more paragraph to write and one more chapter to read (not to mention another midterm coming up) but all in all, I'm making fair progress, I'd say. Before you ask, Lusine, I am still working on the story. In fact, I've the rough draft in long hand and if I can get to an open computer lab somewhere on campus next week I see about getting it mailed over.
Davis homecoming game tomorrow. I'll see about going online again (really, my state of contact has been shameful lately). Rose says 'hi'. (Actually, she says "eow", but use that imagination, folks, use that imagination....)
There are other events too, such as the final arrival of our foster kitten, Rose (will post picture within two weeks, promise). A description? Of course. Rose is a four-month old black and brown, medium haired tabby found in a litter of four in an abandoned attic/roof type place. She's, so far, petite with ears still on the large-ish side as typical of kittens. She also has round, terrified looking gold-eyes, which slowly gets less terrified looking and round as I chant my text at her. Eventually she event went to sleep during parts of it (proving that 1. textbooks really are that boring and 2. that textbooks are actually good for something such as, say, putting a high-strung kitten to sleep). Though she did purr through the bit about oxalate ion during chem, much to my bemusement.
I also adopted five pea-plants from my bio lab, from when our group did the gibberellin experiment. We had the option of either throwing it or adopting it, so of course I adopted the one for our group (there were two pots of five plants each for each group of five people). My labmates are amused by my tendency to adopt plants. So where my parents, come to think about it. My roommates are, however, the ones who will have to deal with it.
Am mostly caught up in terms of homework now. Still have one more paragraph to write and one more chapter to read (not to mention another midterm coming up) but all in all, I'm making fair progress, I'd say. Before you ask, Lusine, I am still working on the story. In fact, I've the rough draft in long hand and if I can get to an open computer lab somewhere on campus next week I see about getting it mailed over.
Davis homecoming game tomorrow. I'll see about going online again (really, my state of contact has been shameful lately). Rose says 'hi'. (Actually, she says "eow", but use that imagination, folks, use that imagination....)
20061007
Recap: No depth involved
Home again, after school has started.
School has been interesting so far (notice I used the word "interesting", which therefore means that it's been a very mixed-sort of inexperience and I'm still unable to pin a more specific, one-word adjective on it). Latin is both more and less helpful than I'd expected, as far as connections with English go. It probably helped my Spanish more, had I continued to actively learn the language. In terms of English, I just get clobbered (repeatedly) over the head with all these grammar/ syntax terms that I've never heard before. My only consolation is that the native English speakers in my class are as confounded by the gazillions of rules and exceptions as I am which, in retrospect and considering the current standards of English, is poor comfort. One interesting fact that I've learned though: English apparently had regular (by which I mean weird and irregular) endings for words (think Spanish) all the way until the French took over, at which point they've apparently decided that the endings weren't fashionable anymore and dropped them.
I repeat, and will probably continue to repeat for the rest of my life: I do not understand fashion.
Being home again? It is nice, of course, as it generally is when you visit, which is what this actually is. But I AM thankful that I could be home on Mid-Autumn (happy belated Mid-Autumn to you all, too, though the Americans tend to call it the Mid-Autumn festival, much to my bemusement.) (You do not say "happy fourth-of-July BARBEQUE", you say, "happy fourth of July." So as for why people insisted on tagging on the word "festival"...well...?) I had "I'll Be Home for the Holidays" going through my head during part of the train trip, which amused myself no end. I also tried to write too, with dubious results. Clearly being on a swaying (side to side motion) train does very little to improve my penmanship. Equally apparent was the fact that cacti are a good conversation starter so, ladies and gentlemen, if you ever want to go out and meet people, lug around a container of cacti and see where it'll get you.
I have just blogged with no intentions in mind, and I find that I don't mind, either. I am still on schedule and on par for everything. Most of the plants in my garden have made it. The sky is blue outside of my window and has the particular sort of appearance that always made me feel like it's very close. Within reach, in fact.
School has been interesting so far (notice I used the word "interesting", which therefore means that it's been a very mixed-sort of inexperience and I'm still unable to pin a more specific, one-word adjective on it). Latin is both more and less helpful than I'd expected, as far as connections with English go. It probably helped my Spanish more, had I continued to actively learn the language. In terms of English, I just get clobbered (repeatedly) over the head with all these grammar/ syntax terms that I've never heard before. My only consolation is that the native English speakers in my class are as confounded by the gazillions of rules and exceptions as I am which, in retrospect and considering the current standards of English, is poor comfort. One interesting fact that I've learned though: English apparently had regular (by which I mean weird and irregular) endings for words (think Spanish) all the way until the French took over, at which point they've apparently decided that the endings weren't fashionable anymore and dropped them.
I repeat, and will probably continue to repeat for the rest of my life: I do not understand fashion.
Being home again? It is nice, of course, as it generally is when you visit, which is what this actually is. But I AM thankful that I could be home on Mid-Autumn (happy belated Mid-Autumn to you all, too, though the Americans tend to call it the Mid-Autumn festival, much to my bemusement.) (You do not say "happy fourth-of-July BARBEQUE", you say, "happy fourth of July." So as for why people insisted on tagging on the word "festival"...well...?) I had "I'll Be Home for the Holidays" going through my head during part of the train trip, which amused myself no end. I also tried to write too, with dubious results. Clearly being on a swaying (side to side motion) train does very little to improve my penmanship. Equally apparent was the fact that cacti are a good conversation starter so, ladies and gentlemen, if you ever want to go out and meet people, lug around a container of cacti and see where it'll get you.
I have just blogged with no intentions in mind, and I find that I don't mind, either. I am still on schedule and on par for everything. Most of the plants in my garden have made it. The sky is blue outside of my window and has the particular sort of appearance that always made me feel like it's very close. Within reach, in fact.
20061001
Recap: Quis es?
End of week two and I've already lost track of the number of cups of tea that I've drank. Not that I've had that many. In fact, on school days I doubt I'd have time to drink tea at all, so even THAT's going to be reduced.
Two days of school so far, and moving on to day three.
The temperature's already started dropping, which can only mean one thing-- that it will keep on dropping. I've a pretty good idea of my room configuration now and where to put stuff if more stuff comes, so should I find the time and the incentive, I'll take pictures of my room and post it. (Have added and will add the newspaper clipping and postcards unto my wall, thanksverymuchLusine, in that order.) No sign of the cat yet but it's going to be a whole new week soon.
Over and out. If I remember more later, I'll post.
Two days of school so far, and moving on to day three.
The temperature's already started dropping, which can only mean one thing-- that it will keep on dropping. I've a pretty good idea of my room configuration now and where to put stuff if more stuff comes, so should I find the time and the incentive, I'll take pictures of my room and post it. (Have added and will add the newspaper clipping and postcards unto my wall, thanksverymuchLusine, in that order.) No sign of the cat yet but it's going to be a whole new week soon.
Over and out. If I remember more later, I'll post.
20060924
Recap: End of week one
At a glance:
Hours worked: ~10
Cups of tea consumed: 6
Number of times kitchen flooded: 2 (and there is still no sign of the dishwasher repairman)
Phone calls made: 5< n < 10
Hours of movie/clips watched: ~4
Items destroyed by animals other than human: 0
Number of disputes with roommate: 0
All in all: so far, so good. Now let's see what happens when classes start on the 28th.
Had to go in for work yesterday as Friday was VERY windy and we couldn't plant anything (and by "windy" I meant the roadcrew telling me I have to take a detour because "the trees are coming down and you want to be careful"). Still getting to know my coworkers (three, so far), and am reaching the conclusion that you meet much more interesting people at work than at school (though all of them do go to school here).
In a series of comments and conversations religion and homosexuals again surfaced. One of my coworkers reaccounted how she met one of her friends while the friend was dating a guy and now the friend's dating a girl. This coworker grew up in the middle of the desert and has referred to herself as a Christian and a red-neck. She said something along the lines of that 'she doesn't approve of what her friend's doing, but if her friend is really..you know...she's not going to stop being friends of her because of it.' Which then made me think of Annie's grandmother, who's convinced that Annie's going to hell because she's studying evolution biology. It begs to differ between the ideas OF religion and the ideas IN religion.
I repeat: I have nothing against religion in general, or anything specific type of religion. I think that it'd be wonderful to have that much faith in something but frankly, religious fanatics tend to scare me.
Meanwhile, from NY Times we give you this article:
Spy Agencies Say Iraq War Worsens Terror Threat
By MARK MAZZETTI
A stark assessment has found that the American invasion and occupation of Iraq has helped spawn a new generation of Islamic radicalism and that the overall terrorist threat has grown since the Sept. 11 attacks.
Give the agencies a medal, will you?
Hours worked: ~10
Cups of tea consumed: 6
Number of times kitchen flooded: 2 (and there is still no sign of the dishwasher repairman)
Phone calls made: 5< n < 10
Hours of movie/clips watched: ~4
Items destroyed by animals other than human: 0
Number of disputes with roommate: 0
All in all: so far, so good. Now let's see what happens when classes start on the 28th.
Had to go in for work yesterday as Friday was VERY windy and we couldn't plant anything (and by "windy" I meant the roadcrew telling me I have to take a detour because "the trees are coming down and you want to be careful"). Still getting to know my coworkers (three, so far), and am reaching the conclusion that you meet much more interesting people at work than at school (though all of them do go to school here).
In a series of comments and conversations religion and homosexuals again surfaced. One of my coworkers reaccounted how she met one of her friends while the friend was dating a guy and now the friend's dating a girl. This coworker grew up in the middle of the desert and has referred to herself as a Christian and a red-neck. She said something along the lines of that 'she doesn't approve of what her friend's doing, but if her friend is really..you know...she's not going to stop being friends of her because of it.' Which then made me think of Annie's grandmother, who's convinced that Annie's going to hell because she's studying evolution biology. It begs to differ between the ideas OF religion and the ideas IN religion.
I repeat: I have nothing against religion in general, or anything specific type of religion. I think that it'd be wonderful to have that much faith in something but frankly, religious fanatics tend to scare me.
Meanwhile, from NY Times we give you this article:
Spy Agencies Say Iraq War Worsens Terror Threat
By MARK MAZZETTI
A stark assessment has found that the American invasion and occupation of Iraq has helped spawn a new generation of Islamic radicalism and that the overall terrorist threat has grown since the Sept. 11 attacks.
Give the agencies a medal, will you?
20060921
Recap: People, impending school, and dust
This would be the second "Oh look I have internet at home again" entry I've typed in the past three months, which means that, by default, it wouldn't be as interesting as the first entry (which wasn't that interesting either) and therefore, to avoid that, we'll just sum up the entire thing in one sentence and be done with it so the time that you'd normally expect to spend on the rant of the virtues of cyberspace can now be devoted to some other random form of rambling.
The apartment now has internet access.
Okay. Now, moving on.
[Warning: long post.]
A description of the apartment is, I suppose, in order. The apartment is large and very airy-seeming because of the vaulted ceiling in the living room and the MILLIONS of windows. Okay, that's an exaggeration. But there ARE a lot of windows. Two per room and five in the living room/dining room area (they're connected). That's not taking into account the glass door to the balcony and the window in the kitchen. The windows themselves are very unique, being the up-down kind instead of the slide-sideways kind and always letting out a monstrous squawking noise when you let it down. We also have lots of shelves, most of which we have discovered and a few of which may still be hidden. We'll eventually have to make acquaintances with all the shelves just to make sure that the previous owner didn't leave something evolving away in a backwards cabinet.
Annie was here all the way until Monday, during which we went through our joint possession and discovered that we had three cheese graters and the odd mayo-maker (I kid you not; and then later Kate used the mayo-maker and made mashed potatos). Kate's been here and will continue to be here, exercising her increasingly frayed self-control over the numerous phone calls from her relatives. Just during lunch today we discussed whether or not she was in denial still, as she originally said she was, after she pointed out that she's not finding anything to freak out over at all. I pointed out that if there's nothing for her to freak out over then there shouldn't be anything for her to be in denial about, either, so we hypothesized that she's in denial about being in denial.
My new job started this Tuesday, more or less to my surprise (especially given that I've just contacted the professor on Monday) and so far it has involved a lot of labels. I've successfully wrote the word 'SPINACH' 120 times and noticed that it is in fact similar to the word 'SPANISH'. I've also in the course of my employment (i.e., Tuesday and today) tried a piece of smoked salmon. That was interesting.
Layout? Yes. I did say that school's starting, didn't I?
Just to mention: clicking squirrels. If anyone's curious, ask Kate.
The apartment now has internet access.
Okay. Now, moving on.
[Warning: long post.]
A description of the apartment is, I suppose, in order. The apartment is large and very airy-seeming because of the vaulted ceiling in the living room and the MILLIONS of windows. Okay, that's an exaggeration. But there ARE a lot of windows. Two per room and five in the living room/dining room area (they're connected). That's not taking into account the glass door to the balcony and the window in the kitchen. The windows themselves are very unique, being the up-down kind instead of the slide-sideways kind and always letting out a monstrous squawking noise when you let it down. We also have lots of shelves, most of which we have discovered and a few of which may still be hidden. We'll eventually have to make acquaintances with all the shelves just to make sure that the previous owner didn't leave something evolving away in a backwards cabinet.
Annie was here all the way until Monday, during which we went through our joint possession and discovered that we had three cheese graters and the odd mayo-maker (I kid you not; and then later Kate used the mayo-maker and made mashed potatos). Kate's been here and will continue to be here, exercising her increasingly frayed self-control over the numerous phone calls from her relatives. Just during lunch today we discussed whether or not she was in denial still, as she originally said she was, after she pointed out that she's not finding anything to freak out over at all. I pointed out that if there's nothing for her to freak out over then there shouldn't be anything for her to be in denial about, either, so we hypothesized that she's in denial about being in denial.
My new job started this Tuesday, more or less to my surprise (especially given that I've just contacted the professor on Monday) and so far it has involved a lot of labels. I've successfully wrote the word 'SPINACH' 120 times and noticed that it is in fact similar to the word 'SPANISH'. I've also in the course of my employment (i.e., Tuesday and today) tried a piece of smoked salmon. That was interesting.
Layout? Yes. I did say that school's starting, didn't I?
Just to mention: clicking squirrels. If anyone's curious, ask Kate.
20060914
Recap: On your marks
Tumbling blocks-wise, this's going to be very interesting.
My conclusions so far:
A.) That inside the house internet will not be possible until 20th the earliest.
B.) Davis is currently at the stage where the temperature can be anywhere from 70-something (high point of the day) to 90-something.
C.) I'll need to learn how to operate the dishwasher. Which shouldn't be too bad, considering I had to deal with the dishmachine in the DC and I don't have to take apart the dishwasher each night after I'm done using it. I hope.
D.) Cats and plants do not mix, so I'll need to start adapting whatever plants possible to outdoor weather.
It turns out that all three of us (my roommates and I) are going to be there on the Saturday, so that our first night together will really be our first night together. And the furniture dragging that will ensue. Oh yes.
My conclusions so far:
A.) That inside the house internet will not be possible until 20th the earliest.
B.) Davis is currently at the stage where the temperature can be anywhere from 70-something (high point of the day) to 90-something.
C.) I'll need to learn how to operate the dishwasher. Which shouldn't be too bad, considering I had to deal with the dishmachine in the DC and I don't have to take apart the dishwasher each night after I'm done using it. I hope.
D.) Cats and plants do not mix, so I'll need to start adapting whatever plants possible to outdoor weather.
It turns out that all three of us (my roommates and I) are going to be there on the Saturday, so that our first night together will really be our first night together. And the furniture dragging that will ensue. Oh yes.
20060912
Recap: A little of this and that
Taken from NEW YORK TIMES today:
Interviews found voters expressing degrees of skepticism
about President Bush's motives in delivering a set of
high-profile speeches on terrorism.
-"In Unpredictable District, Some Say Bush Is Politicizing
Terrorism" By CARL HULSE
You know what's better yet? The fact that THAT article was followed by THIS:
President Bush sought to place the war in Iraq in the
context of an epic battle between tyranny and freedom.
-"In Prime-Time Address, Bush Says Safety of U.S. Hinges on Iraq" By JIM RUTENBERG and SHERYL GAY STOLBERG
Well well. Some of those who chose to remain blind are so because they don't know any other way of existing, and some of those who choose to be blind chose with their eyes wide open. The latter are always the ones who baffle me but, as the saying goes, there's no accounting for taste, i.e. opinions, i.e. I'm sometimes so incredibly bewildered by people and am even more bewildered to find out how NOT alone I am.
But those who pay any marginal kind of attention do notice things. That's good to know.
I'll wager that the region here-abouts would be listed as one of those "unpredictable districts"-- oh wait, nevermind, we're predictable. We're predictable enough that Mr. President wants to avoid SF at all costs which is still, I think, showing an remarkable deal of forethought for him (or for his counsellors, who knows?). Or maybe that was self-preservation. In the present era, it's often hard to tell them about.
In terms of Davis preparation, I'm at the stage of "Okay all my stuff except for my laptop and my sketchbook are in boxes now so those are the two things that I will waste all my time on". (It's a very long name for a stage, but it's also a very important stage in what I'm now going to call my Yearly Migration Period.)
Meanwhile, according to ENN, global warming will bring back dinosaur-era-like weather (though, as far as I know, no dinosaurs). Which makes me wonder what some of the fast-evolving species, the drosophila (fruitfly) for example, will look like by then. Then again, it probably wouldn't look THAT different. Bugs (Hexapoda/ Insecta, specifically) have very resilient design and the majority of it's always kept the same, as can be seen in those bug-containing ambers. Maybe we'll see a return of the giant dragonflies? Or maybe ants and cockroaches will finally take over the world. Species extinction is imminent, anyhow.
Not-so-subliminal message made yet more obvious: global warming is no cause for joy.
The cacti live on. Mom's afraid she might accidentally kill it, so I might be bring THOSE with me to Davis as well.
Interviews found voters expressing degrees of skepticism
about President Bush's motives in delivering a set of
high-profile speeches on terrorism.
-"In Unpredictable District, Some Say Bush Is Politicizing
Terrorism" By CARL HULSE
You know what's better yet? The fact that THAT article was followed by THIS:
President Bush sought to place the war in Iraq in the
context of an epic battle between tyranny and freedom.
-"In Prime-Time Address, Bush Says Safety of U.S. Hinges on Iraq" By JIM RUTENBERG and SHERYL GAY STOLBERG
Well well. Some of those who chose to remain blind are so because they don't know any other way of existing, and some of those who choose to be blind chose with their eyes wide open. The latter are always the ones who baffle me but, as the saying goes, there's no accounting for taste, i.e. opinions, i.e. I'm sometimes so incredibly bewildered by people and am even more bewildered to find out how NOT alone I am.
But those who pay any marginal kind of attention do notice things. That's good to know.
I'll wager that the region here-abouts would be listed as one of those "unpredictable districts"-- oh wait, nevermind, we're predictable. We're predictable enough that Mr. President wants to avoid SF at all costs which is still, I think, showing an remarkable deal of forethought for him (or for his counsellors, who knows?). Or maybe that was self-preservation. In the present era, it's often hard to tell them about.
In terms of Davis preparation, I'm at the stage of "Okay all my stuff except for my laptop and my sketchbook are in boxes now so those are the two things that I will waste all my time on". (It's a very long name for a stage, but it's also a very important stage in what I'm now going to call my Yearly Migration Period.)
Meanwhile, according to ENN, global warming will bring back dinosaur-era-like weather (though, as far as I know, no dinosaurs). Which makes me wonder what some of the fast-evolving species, the drosophila (fruitfly) for example, will look like by then. Then again, it probably wouldn't look THAT different. Bugs (Hexapoda/ Insecta, specifically) have very resilient design and the majority of it's always kept the same, as can be seen in those bug-containing ambers. Maybe we'll see a return of the giant dragonflies? Or maybe ants and cockroaches will finally take over the world. Species extinction is imminent, anyhow.
Not-so-subliminal message made yet more obvious: global warming is no cause for joy.
The cacti live on. Mom's afraid she might accidentally kill it, so I might be bring THOSE with me to Davis as well.
20060907
Recap: Phones? Phones.
The joy of explaining the same thing to three different people after thirty minute waits is namely this: there isn't any. I tried to get some information for setting up the phone-internet at the soon-to-be apartment-home and was sent from the original phone reception center to the online service reception center and finally to an online service specialist. On the other hand, I got to listen to some very impressive guitar playing over the phone (the style of the waiting music varies greatly from company to company, as I've learned), though half way through I think it's switched over to saxophone.
I don't know, I wasn't entirely paying attention, having been deriving immense pleasure in drawing phones being zapped afire by a certain floaty-type robot. Drawing is a very good way to channel impatience. I even drew a waiting-for-phone Nick comic which might show up somewhere, eventually.
Why the three people? Namely because the apartment place made an error with the zipcode and the phone company disagreed with the error in zipcode, but it took a specialist to figure out the disagreement with the error in zipcode. There was a lot of numbers involved this morning and, if I were to look over my random scribbling (which I won't, because it looks ...alarming is an understatement) it'd look like I was trying to solve a calc related-rates problem. There're less pertinent drawings, however.
Mostly it came down to "Huh, okay. Moving on and THANK GOD that it's over."
I have located a tea kettle and it's roughly the size of a grapefruit.
A bloggy entry, isn't it?
I don't know, I wasn't entirely paying attention, having been deriving immense pleasure in drawing phones being zapped afire by a certain floaty-type robot. Drawing is a very good way to channel impatience. I even drew a waiting-for-phone Nick comic which might show up somewhere, eventually.
Why the three people? Namely because the apartment place made an error with the zipcode and the phone company disagreed with the error in zipcode, but it took a specialist to figure out the disagreement with the error in zipcode. There was a lot of numbers involved this morning and, if I were to look over my random scribbling (which I won't, because it looks ...alarming is an understatement) it'd look like I was trying to solve a calc related-rates problem. There're less pertinent drawings, however.
Mostly it came down to "Huh, okay. Moving on and THANK GOD that it's over."
I have located a tea kettle and it's roughly the size of a grapefruit.
A bloggy entry, isn't it?
20060903
Random: Rubber duckies
I don't know how many of you have heard this, but it's a pretty interesting story.
Once upon a time, a cargo of twenty-something thousand rubber duckies (and frogs, and other things) accidentally went overboard in the middle of the ocean.
Some of them drifted so far north that they froze, and then the mass of frozen things hang around for a bit until the ice finally melted and soem of the rubber adventurers then bobbed up on the beaches of eastern US. (More info see here.)
The drift path of the duckies, as indicated by the large arrows. Smaller arrows indicate the ocean currents. As expected, the oceanographers fell in love with the duckies.
When asked how a rubber ducky can survive eleven years of ocean-traveling, the company that makes them made a comment about how the duckies were made to endure the bathtime of two-year-olds which, apparently, will inflict the same amount of strain as ocean salinity levels coupled with Atlantic ocean storms coupled with being frozen in the artic circle for up to five years.
Ah the hardy ducks. Just imagine the sight: thousands of rubber duckies bobbing up and down in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.
Once upon a time, a cargo of twenty-something thousand rubber duckies (and frogs, and other things) accidentally went overboard in the middle of the ocean.
Some of them drifted so far north that they froze, and then the mass of frozen things hang around for a bit until the ice finally melted and soem of the rubber adventurers then bobbed up on the beaches of eastern US. (More info see here.)
The drift path of the duckies, as indicated by the large arrows. Smaller arrows indicate the ocean currents. As expected, the oceanographers fell in love with the duckies.
When asked how a rubber ducky can survive eleven years of ocean-traveling, the company that makes them made a comment about how the duckies were made to endure the bathtime of two-year-olds which, apparently, will inflict the same amount of strain as ocean salinity levels coupled with Atlantic ocean storms coupled with being frozen in the artic circle for up to five years.
Ah the hardy ducks. Just imagine the sight: thousands of rubber duckies bobbing up and down in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.
20060901
Recap: Count downs, yet again
Yesterday was a very productive day. I congratulated myself and made a cup of tea.
Today is a counter point to yesterday. There are, at this point, no more items on the immediate to-do list. My job today as charged by my parents is, strictly, to "take some time and think if you'll need anything else for Davis." When my parents tell me to "take some time and think" I will, inevitably, sit down and think. The result usually involves a headache and more lists (speaking of which, I've quite a number of THOSE already). Then the list will lead to more tea which will lead to more thinking and therefore more tea and...the cycle will go on until I recall that there's a life outside of tea and list-making and I wander off to do something else. Usually also involving paper.
Currently nine cacti have sprouted under my care, though more will be coming. According to the manual some of the seeds are timed so that they take a year to germinate. Quite a test of patience there. The spiders have made their entry into the household and I flattened two while reading the other day (they crawled over my book, I was trying to read, and ergo-). The battle against the wasps had been fought and won, and the ants haven't tried anything funny...yet. (When 10% of the biomass are them, you're bound to be a little wary.)
Off to do more thinking then.
Also, "ladies, please come and pick up your gents".
Today is a counter point to yesterday. There are, at this point, no more items on the immediate to-do list. My job today as charged by my parents is, strictly, to "take some time and think if you'll need anything else for Davis." When my parents tell me to "take some time and think" I will, inevitably, sit down and think. The result usually involves a headache and more lists (speaking of which, I've quite a number of THOSE already). Then the list will lead to more tea which will lead to more thinking and therefore more tea and...the cycle will go on until I recall that there's a life outside of tea and list-making and I wander off to do something else. Usually also involving paper.
Currently nine cacti have sprouted under my care, though more will be coming. According to the manual some of the seeds are timed so that they take a year to germinate. Quite a test of patience there. The spiders have made their entry into the household and I flattened two while reading the other day (they crawled over my book, I was trying to read, and ergo-). The battle against the wasps had been fought and won, and the ants haven't tried anything funny...yet. (When 10% of the biomass are them, you're bound to be a little wary.)
Off to do more thinking then.
Also, "ladies, please come and pick up your gents".
20060828
Recap: And there was much rejoicing
Total hours slept: 8
Total number of classes signed up for: 4
Total number of items on TO-DO list: 6
Total cups of tea drank: 0
Total number of emails processed: 12
Total number of boxes sorted: 4
Considering that it is currently 10:08am, I would say that the stats are still, so far, in my favor. Alright, onwards:
Yesterday, as most of you who read this know, was Kate's birthday. We had a movie day at her house (the last one this summer, I think, since Berkeley starts today and all other schools follow). Kate's rabbit was...'rambunctious' is nicest word I can use for her behavior. For some reason she had decided that her litter box was an enemy worthy of her foil and thus spent an admirable amount of effort headbutting it. I'm not entirely sure why she was doing that, since I AM pretty sure that she knew the litter box was (and still is, I hope) not alive.
Anna arrived next with a hug for Kate and the opening phrase "happy birthday!" which was immediately followed by the comment "Kate, your hair's wet." (Kate had just taken a shower.) We put out food. There was a lot of food. We put out more food. Kate chased Anna away from the kitchen. Well, not 'chase', exactly. It was more along the lines of Kate giving Anna one of her patented looks and Anna announcing that okay, she'd leave the kitchen now. (It was just as effective as a spatula.) Kate's mom came and they went to pick out movies. Kateryna came in the midst of CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY and aside from Anna, we all agreed that the science-defying movie of twitchy people was incredibly creepy. Kateryna brought "orangenade" soda which is, apparently, suppose to be like lemonade except with oranges. After about two seconds of consideration, we decided that healthy soda is an oxymoron and (I forgot who said it) anything that ends with the 'aed' sound is probably bad for you.
There was lunch (more food). Kate made us sandwiches. There was a very nice green table cloth that we, during the course of the day, redecorated with pineapples, mayo, and orangenade.
Soniya came in the middle of MIRRORMASK which I believe did not help her understand what the movie was about. It was not one of those movies that you can pick up in the middle and still figure out what happened. It WAS pretty though. And then there was (but of course) cake and the choir of "happy birthay", afterwhich Kate blew on her cake (because there was no candle) and wished that she'd never have hear us sing "happy-birthday" again. (I don't know, Kate. Do you think if I wrote it down here, for the records, that we'll remember it in time for next year?) Then there were presents and now that I've thought about it, Lucy, I am sorry that I didn't take pictures of Kate's expression. You'll just have to ask her what she got and imagine the expressions she must've had. Use that imagination. (Hem.)
We saw photos those of Lucy in Armenia (we were all very puzzled, by the way, with the one picture where Lucy dressed up and pretended to be an old woman) and we saw photos of Chicago, with occasional photos of Kate's mother in Chicago and one (yep, one) picture of Kate in Chicago. Soniya (and the rest of us) demanded to know why there wasn't more pictures of Kate and (Soniya) introduced us to the phrase "pristine beauty." In otherwords, the phrase "your photos need more 'pristine beauty'" meant "your photos need more you in it and less of the other stuff/people." I found (and still find) the idea of Kate as 'pristine' highly amusing and continues to wonder if I'm the only one who finds it funny.
Malvina came just as everyone was leaving (at around five). When she found out that we were all leaving, she ran back out and signals for Aaron to stop (eventually the signaling had to revert to the o' cellphone method) and wait for her, since she was not going to stay long then, either. At this point the rabbit was tired out (or bored out of her mind, couldn't say which) and could be found stretched out on the floor of her cage.
This was about the point when I left. As I was about to leave Kate went and got the box of soy-cracker-things that I brought, so now I have a box of soy-cracker-things and I really do think, Kate, that you will be seeing them in Davis.
Haunted by soy-cracker-things.
Still here: Ladies, come pick up your gents.
Total number of classes signed up for: 4
Total number of items on TO-DO list: 6
Total cups of tea drank: 0
Total number of emails processed: 12
Total number of boxes sorted: 4
Considering that it is currently 10:08am, I would say that the stats are still, so far, in my favor. Alright, onwards:
Yesterday, as most of you who read this know, was Kate's birthday. We had a movie day at her house (the last one this summer, I think, since Berkeley starts today and all other schools follow). Kate's rabbit was...'rambunctious' is nicest word I can use for her behavior. For some reason she had decided that her litter box was an enemy worthy of her foil and thus spent an admirable amount of effort headbutting it. I'm not entirely sure why she was doing that, since I AM pretty sure that she knew the litter box was (and still is, I hope) not alive.
Anna arrived next with a hug for Kate and the opening phrase "happy birthday!" which was immediately followed by the comment "Kate, your hair's wet." (Kate had just taken a shower.) We put out food. There was a lot of food. We put out more food. Kate chased Anna away from the kitchen. Well, not 'chase', exactly. It was more along the lines of Kate giving Anna one of her patented looks and Anna announcing that okay, she'd leave the kitchen now. (It was just as effective as a spatula.) Kate's mom came and they went to pick out movies. Kateryna came in the midst of CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY and aside from Anna, we all agreed that the science-defying movie of twitchy people was incredibly creepy. Kateryna brought "orangenade" soda which is, apparently, suppose to be like lemonade except with oranges. After about two seconds of consideration, we decided that healthy soda is an oxymoron and (I forgot who said it) anything that ends with the 'aed' sound is probably bad for you.
There was lunch (more food). Kate made us sandwiches. There was a very nice green table cloth that we, during the course of the day, redecorated with pineapples, mayo, and orangenade.
Soniya came in the middle of MIRRORMASK which I believe did not help her understand what the movie was about. It was not one of those movies that you can pick up in the middle and still figure out what happened. It WAS pretty though. And then there was (but of course) cake and the choir of "happy birthay", afterwhich Kate blew on her cake (because there was no candle) and wished that she'd never have hear us sing "happy-birthday" again. (I don't know, Kate. Do you think if I wrote it down here, for the records, that we'll remember it in time for next year?) Then there were presents and now that I've thought about it, Lucy, I am sorry that I didn't take pictures of Kate's expression. You'll just have to ask her what she got and imagine the expressions she must've had. Use that imagination. (Hem.)
We saw photos those of Lucy in Armenia (we were all very puzzled, by the way, with the one picture where Lucy dressed up and pretended to be an old woman) and we saw photos of Chicago, with occasional photos of Kate's mother in Chicago and one (yep, one) picture of Kate in Chicago. Soniya (and the rest of us) demanded to know why there wasn't more pictures of Kate and (Soniya) introduced us to the phrase "pristine beauty." In otherwords, the phrase "your photos need more 'pristine beauty'" meant "your photos need more you in it and less of the other stuff/people." I found (and still find) the idea of Kate as 'pristine' highly amusing and continues to wonder if I'm the only one who finds it funny.
Malvina came just as everyone was leaving (at around five). When she found out that we were all leaving, she ran back out and signals for Aaron to stop (eventually the signaling had to revert to the o' cellphone method) and wait for her, since she was not going to stay long then, either. At this point the rabbit was tired out (or bored out of her mind, couldn't say which) and could be found stretched out on the floor of her cage.
This was about the point when I left. As I was about to leave Kate went and got the box of soy-cracker-things that I brought, so now I have a box of soy-cracker-things and I really do think, Kate, that you will be seeing them in Davis.
Haunted by soy-cracker-things.
Still here: Ladies, come pick up your gents.
20060824
Random: Avoid styrofoam
Yes I am, by large, still paying attention.
As the title suggests, this's a post mainly to advocate that people should avoid using styrofoam whenever possible. (I know in some instances you don't have a choice, but when given the option....)
Why?
Did you know that styrofoam cups actually gets lighter as you drink from them?
When people say "styrofoam" or "foam" they're usually thinking about polystyrene, something that's made from petroleum (a derivative of). Polystyrene, as the name implies (poly=many) is made of styrene. Styrene has a tendency to leak onto other stuff. Namely food. Especially food that contains fat. (Yum, styrene in your food, how about that?) When you eat styrene, it may not stay as styrene in your body. Your body makes (metabolizes) styrene oxide out of it. Styrene oxide is not proven to cause cancer in humans (carcinogenic), but it is known to cause cancer in animals. (Which I take it to mean lab rats, because, pardon me for asking, are humans not animals? Default human arrogance strikes, once again.) So it's put down as PROBABLY cancer causing to humans (scroll down to "unsaturated polyesters" under "monomers"), though there's also this (scroll to section under "How likely is styrene to cause cancer"). In any case, styrene kills brain cells (i.e. counted as a neurotoxin).
So yes, if you can, avoid styrofoam.
SF's got a head start on it though
And while I'm at it ("it" meaning scientific/environmental info dump), I might as well as try a little propaganda:
Go here to sign an open letter (you can get your name listed as "anonymous" if you're feeling squimish) to demand that Ford keeps its word and its commitement of making hybrid models. (Ford vehicles, by the way, supposidely have "the worst fuel economy". See site.)
As the title suggests, this's a post mainly to advocate that people should avoid using styrofoam whenever possible. (I know in some instances you don't have a choice, but when given the option....)
Why?
Did you know that styrofoam cups actually gets lighter as you drink from them?
When people say "styrofoam" or "foam" they're usually thinking about polystyrene, something that's made from petroleum (a derivative of). Polystyrene, as the name implies (poly=many) is made of styrene. Styrene has a tendency to leak onto other stuff. Namely food. Especially food that contains fat. (Yum, styrene in your food, how about that?) When you eat styrene, it may not stay as styrene in your body. Your body makes (metabolizes) styrene oxide out of it. Styrene oxide is not proven to cause cancer in humans (carcinogenic), but it is known to cause cancer in animals. (Which I take it to mean lab rats, because, pardon me for asking, are humans not animals? Default human arrogance strikes, once again.) So it's put down as PROBABLY cancer causing to humans (scroll down to "unsaturated polyesters" under "monomers"), though there's also this (scroll to section under "How likely is styrene to cause cancer"). In any case, styrene kills brain cells (i.e. counted as a neurotoxin).
So yes, if you can, avoid styrofoam.
SF's got a head start on it though
And while I'm at it ("it" meaning scientific/environmental info dump), I might as well as try a little propaganda:
Go here to sign an open letter (you can get your name listed as "anonymous" if you're feeling squimish) to demand that Ford keeps its word and its commitement of making hybrid models. (Ford vehicles, by the way, supposidely have "the worst fuel economy". See site.)
20060822
Recap: The buzzing continues
My cellphone contract has expired, so now the service is canceled. I expect there'll be a new number of some sort within two weeks. Meanwhile, there's my home number and of course, email.
What else? Well, list-making is currently reaching it's crescendo, as well as, I think, the purchasing of random objects by my parents. Kate and Annie, if you two are reading this, I have now gained the possession of a small-ish bulletin board/whiteboard-agenda. It's-- I didn't know people use that particular combination enough for it to make it to the shelf as a consumer product, but it did. I wonder if I can stick it on the fridge. Which reminds-- clocks, anyone? Shall we have a clock somewhere?
Aaaannd that's the way it's going to be all the way until September. My parents asked if I felt nervous about going to school or if last year's experience was enough to ...uh... 'rub the shine off', so to speak. To be honest, being nervous didn't even make it onto my to-do list, and this year is going to be different enough from last year (statement, not an opinion) that I doubt last year's events will be sufficient to prepare me for anything. Now NEXT year, it may be a different story. Then again, it may not; I tip my hat to Murphy's Law, which has all the inevitability of entropy.
Mom bought a tiny cacti set with the instructions that I'm to start it for her and have it growing by the time of her birthday, as my present to her. Yes, she plans on maintaining herself afterwards (personally I'm thinking of making a sign that says "DO NOT OVER-WATER" and taping it to the pot, because she tends to over-water plants). This just tops it all in terms of my summer of "let's start this from seed!"
Let's go and grow some cacti!
What else? Well, list-making is currently reaching it's crescendo, as well as, I think, the purchasing of random objects by my parents. Kate and Annie, if you two are reading this, I have now gained the possession of a small-ish bulletin board/whiteboard-agenda. It's-- I didn't know people use that particular combination enough for it to make it to the shelf as a consumer product, but it did. I wonder if I can stick it on the fridge. Which reminds-- clocks, anyone? Shall we have a clock somewhere?
Aaaannd that's the way it's going to be all the way until September. My parents asked if I felt nervous about going to school or if last year's experience was enough to ...uh... 'rub the shine off', so to speak. To be honest, being nervous didn't even make it onto my to-do list, and this year is going to be different enough from last year (statement, not an opinion) that I doubt last year's events will be sufficient to prepare me for anything. Now NEXT year, it may be a different story. Then again, it may not; I tip my hat to Murphy's Law, which has all the inevitability of entropy.
Mom bought a tiny cacti set with the instructions that I'm to start it for her and have it growing by the time of her birthday, as my present to her. Yes, she plans on maintaining herself afterwards (personally I'm thinking of making a sign that says "DO NOT OVER-WATER" and taping it to the pot, because she tends to over-water plants). This just tops it all in terms of my summer of "let's start this from seed!"
Let's go and grow some cacti!
20060821
Recap: SF trip, part II, continued
Part I at the bottom, if you're viewing this before I wrote the next post. Scroll down please.
...
Near the path to Stowe Lake was a statue of a woman with two children. At one point when we're passing by, someone asked, "But who's the nurturing lady?" to which a boy (elementary school age) who happened to pass by grinned and answered, airly, "Oh, that's my mother."
We cracked up, to say the least. The guy was very much confused until we explained that we were refering to the statue. But I-- yes. It's the statue of a 'pioneering woman' or something of that sort (as dictated by the inscription below the statue) with two naked children. The boy looked to be one of those nice Asian boys, passing by on a bike, which made his statement all the funnier.
That's my mother, indeed.
Stowe Lake had an island on the center, which we went on and yes, Lusine, Kate climbed things. Kate has a tendency to climb things. We saw ducks and seagulls and turtles and of course, people. Later on we wandered past again, looking for the shuttle, wondering if there even is one. Much to our surprise, there exists the free Golden Gate Park shuttle. It is not a myth. However, it was going the other way and so we waited for one that was going the direction that we were aiming for. We saw horses (with riders, of course), and cars, and people in rollerblades and on bikes. We saw no other shuttle aside from the one whose driver indicated we should wait for the one that's going our direction. Eventually we gave up and just decided to wander some more, passing by many blackberry brambles on our way, which Malvina and Kate exploited ("come and taste the sun-sweet berries of the earth", Kate?)even though SF is not exactly the ideal site for berries. Not enough sun and relatively high salinity.
We went up Kennedy Road, we went down Kennedy road and I lost my directions once, causing others to walk even more (sorry, guys). Eventually we wandered down on Irving, where Malvina lead us into Starbucks and bought us things to drink (thanks Malvina!). There was still some time left before our ride got there, so we continued wandering. We went into a Russian grocery store-like place, where Kate bought a chocolate egg-- one of the ones that, apparently, had a toy inside (it was a mountain goat. It was a mountain goat?). They also had pickled apples. I've never seen pickled apples before which reminds me-- has ANYONE ever seen canned spinach before? Just curious.
Continued wandering, eventually entering a VERY random store which included but is not limited to things such as penguin-shaped bath salts, toy guitars, furry stuffed-animal crabs, and very opinionated fridge magnets ("Like a rock, only dumber," said one, with reference to Mr. President; "Reversing progress one day at a time," said another, same subject matter ).
We left Victoria as the N-line stop and went on an earlier transit than our ever-so-helpful cal-train trip-planner suggested (that's a lot of dashes. Isn't that a lot of dashes?) so we ended up getting to the Cal train station early. Finished the rice crackers (which apallingly healthy for a snack and unexpectedly popular). Sat around on the ground. Talked. Called our parents. Got called by our parents. You know how that usually goes. Got on the train, very uneventful and zippety-do-da we're back.
Despite of what my mother may have thought, I did not encounter any terrorists during the trip. There was one lady who asked us how to get to Stern Grove or some place that sounded like it while we're waiting for the shuttle, to which we replied that we don't know (or in Kate's case, "We're not natives."). After which Victoria used a particularly terrifying kind of voice to tell us that she thought the place was "REALLY far from here." (Note to self for the future, do not ask Victoria for directions, especially when feeling paranoid.) That was, however, my extent of terror for the day. And as Anna put it, "We should do it again sometimes, guys."
Satisfactory for a recap?
[13:23 ETA]
Kate, I have your newspaper and your Advil.
Yes, Lucy, I let her climb things while she was on drugs. Shameful, isn't it?
Also, if anyone want a fullsize copy of any of the photos, email me.
...
Near the path to Stowe Lake was a statue of a woman with two children. At one point when we're passing by, someone asked, "But who's the nurturing lady?" to which a boy (elementary school age) who happened to pass by grinned and answered, airly, "Oh, that's my mother."
We cracked up, to say the least. The guy was very much confused until we explained that we were refering to the statue. But I-- yes. It's the statue of a 'pioneering woman' or something of that sort (as dictated by the inscription below the statue) with two naked children. The boy looked to be one of those nice Asian boys, passing by on a bike, which made his statement all the funnier.
That's my mother, indeed.
Stowe Lake had an island on the center, which we went on and yes, Lusine, Kate climbed things. Kate has a tendency to climb things. We saw ducks and seagulls and turtles and of course, people. Later on we wandered past again, looking for the shuttle, wondering if there even is one. Much to our surprise, there exists the free Golden Gate Park shuttle. It is not a myth. However, it was going the other way and so we waited for one that was going the direction that we were aiming for. We saw horses (with riders, of course), and cars, and people in rollerblades and on bikes. We saw no other shuttle aside from the one whose driver indicated we should wait for the one that's going our direction. Eventually we gave up and just decided to wander some more, passing by many blackberry brambles on our way, which Malvina and Kate exploited ("come and taste the sun-sweet berries of the earth", Kate?)even though SF is not exactly the ideal site for berries. Not enough sun and relatively high salinity.
We went up Kennedy Road, we went down Kennedy road and I lost my directions once, causing others to walk even more (sorry, guys). Eventually we wandered down on Irving, where Malvina lead us into Starbucks and bought us things to drink (thanks Malvina!). There was still some time left before our ride got there, so we continued wandering. We went into a Russian grocery store-like place, where Kate bought a chocolate egg-- one of the ones that, apparently, had a toy inside (it was a mountain goat. It was a mountain goat?). They also had pickled apples. I've never seen pickled apples before which reminds me-- has ANYONE ever seen canned spinach before? Just curious.
Continued wandering, eventually entering a VERY random store which included but is not limited to things such as penguin-shaped bath salts, toy guitars, furry stuffed-animal crabs, and very opinionated fridge magnets ("Like a rock, only dumber," said one, with reference to Mr. President; "Reversing progress one day at a time," said another, same subject matter ).
We left Victoria as the N-line stop and went on an earlier transit than our ever-so-helpful cal-train trip-planner suggested (that's a lot of dashes. Isn't that a lot of dashes?) so we ended up getting to the Cal train station early. Finished the rice crackers (which apallingly healthy for a snack and unexpectedly popular). Sat around on the ground. Talked. Called our parents. Got called by our parents. You know how that usually goes. Got on the train, very uneventful and zippety-do-da we're back.
Despite of what my mother may have thought, I did not encounter any terrorists during the trip. There was one lady who asked us how to get to Stern Grove or some place that sounded like it while we're waiting for the shuttle, to which we replied that we don't know (or in Kate's case, "We're not natives."). After which Victoria used a particularly terrifying kind of voice to tell us that she thought the place was "REALLY far from here." (Note to self for the future, do not ask Victoria for directions, especially when feeling paranoid.) That was, however, my extent of terror for the day. And as Anna put it, "We should do it again sometimes, guys."
Satisfactory for a recap?
[13:23 ETA]
Kate, I have your newspaper and your Advil.
Yes, Lucy, I let her climb things while she was on drugs. Shameful, isn't it?
Also, if anyone want a fullsize copy of any of the photos, email me.
Recap: We have ventured forth... part I
"You have to include that joke in your recap," said Kate. "When you write the recap."
"I am (writing a recap)?" I asked.
"Yes," stated Kate. "You are."
...
"...It's Sunday morning over were you guys are, and despite my jealousy I hope you'll all have a great time (and take pictures! ahem)," wrote Lusine.
To which I've decided, oh well, "You'll hear about the trip (maybe with pictures too) in my blog, which I'll type a entry in, next morning."
So, my salutations to the two ladies. Here's a long and detailed recap of the events of yesterday. Blogger won't let me upload pictures this morning, so you'll have to go under my yahoo account to see the photos (#9-19, though Anna went 'trigger-happy' and took many more pictures of all kinds of things until her camera ran out of batteries, so ask her for pictures too). Cheers.
...
It was a gray and cloudy morning when we met at Costco, which was very empty, due to the fact that most people had better things to do on a Sunday morning (i.e. before 9am) than to meet in front of a store that doesn't even open until 10am. Ashley had apparently left for Arkansas, and Christine's moving in to Berkeley (good luck, Christine!), Soniya's working at the Jazz Festival so, when the counting began, the group consisted of Anna, Kate, Malvina and I.
We played around with the ticket machines which for reasons I can't fathom only returned changes in coins. Therefore, when Anna inserted a twenty dollar bill, it sounded like she'd suddenly won lottery. Oh the clinking. Oh the number of coins. Oh the-- Chuckee? Chucky? Cheese tokens. Token. Singular, I hope. One has to wonder how it got in there. But Anna had a cat-shaped purse which she was very excited about. Look! It's like a cat!
The train came on time. That was nice.
The trip over to SF involved stopping at San Carlos, taking a bus to downtown SF, then taking another bus from there to the Golden Gate Park. Getting off at San Carlos was not very eventful...until we saw the bus arriving when we're still some distances away from it. There was running. We came up to the bus, where it stopped at the red light, to have the driver indicate with his hands that the bus stop was in fact at the next ...block (well, it was sort of a block, given the train-station set up). So? More running. But we caught the bus on time, which allowed us to catch the other bus on time (always a good thing), and during the course of the entire trip got to listen to the enlightening conversation between Malvina and Kate on the usage and effect of drugs vs steroids, which drew some very odd looks from our fellow passengers. (But we're teenagers, so we got to get away with saying an awful lot of strange things.)
Met Victoria at Park from which point we went to the conservatorium. There were lots of plants. We looked at the plants. There was also a butterfly exhibit in place while we visited which was very nice, which I thought was nice, in theory. However my current tolerance for butterflies is "no more than three live ones", and there was an entire ROOM full. After a few minutes I decided that I wasn't too keen on getting over my phobia on the spot (didn't feel particularly like suffering that day) and left to the room. Got Kate to take pictures for me though. Thanks Kate.
We met a survey taker on our way out, who insisted on us taking a survey. "It'll only take a few minutes," he said, "And I'll even help you with the hard questions."
He began by inquiring the number of people in our group, then our age bracket. 25-30? He tried. 18-24? Ye-es, we agreed. Malvina gave Kate a sideways look. "Well, she's 17." To which Kate very emphathetically stated that there was only seven days left, SEVEN. To which the survey taker (a guy) remarked that he's a virgo too. Oookay, we thought, and waited for the next question.
"What's your reason for coming to the conservatory?" He inquired politely (and he's always polite, by the way). My first thought was, because Malvina wanted to go to the restroom, which I can't very well say, so I said something along the lines of "because we know where it is." Which, I think, the guy found disappointing.
We wandered over to the outside gardens after that. At this point Anna was asking repeatedly if we were going to have lunch, so we sat down on the bench by the chrysanthemum garden and had lunch (and I illegally fed a bird but shh, don't tell).
Should we try to find a shuttle or wander, we wondered, after lunch. Wander, we decided, and therefore did, passing by the survey taker (poor guy) again (there were actually a surprising number of them that day), upon which Kate cried "Avert your eyes! Avert your eyes!" I think we concluded that survey takers are the current equivalent of social leprosy, and from that point on, whenever Kate saw a survey taker she would say "Avert your eyes!"
We saw a dancing class outside of De Young Museum. That was very odd. And Anna is apparently obsessed with mini coopers, letting us know-- one way or another-- whenever she spotted another one. At one point I think she started talking to them, saying how cute they are. I wasn't entirely sure, but we continued our wondering and eventually arrived at Stowe Lake.
Okay, far too long, breaking this into two posts.
20060817
Recap: Books, pens, books, what?
Classes are over-- and classes are about to begin again, soon. There're still dozens of little errands to run, things to clear up and parents to sooth (must this occur every year? Every?). I'd start the mental preparations except now I'm convinced that no amount of preparations is enough for the actual experience. It's much more interesting, anyway, to take things as they come. Interesting, not necessarily easier. Choice is, actually, not an actual issue in this question, so it's just a matter of perspective. You can either accept it or fight it, and I've decided that the energy spent fighting something inevitable could be put to better use. Such as continuing my attempts to reduce the length of my to-read list, for example.
What has happened lately?
Well, Kate's in Chicago and I'm currently taking care of her rabbit, who has decided that she really liked curtains. Lusine's in Armenia and suffering from some combination of boredom and heat, though it's not so bad now, I hear, since she started having art classes. Victoria's still in SF. Anna's around, having just been freed from classes, and likewise, has errants to run (not to mention work).
My dad's finally finished the floor. That's something. And I've been collecting plants after a fashion. Mostly though, I've slept. I even slept until nine this morning which was very strange considering my usual habits, but very nice also.
Nostalgia. And I don't even know what I'm nostalgic for. Oh there are guesses, as there always will, but for this once, I don't think I'm about to hit upon the answer any time in the near future. Nor do I want to.
I'll leave off this very much rambling post with something my old ESL teacher has sent me:
ZEN SARCASM
1. Do not walk behind me, for I may not lead. Do not walk ahead of me,
for I may not follow. Do not walk beside me either. Just pretty much
leave me the hell alone.
2. The journey of a thousand miles begins with a broken fan belt and
leaky tire
3. It's always darkest before dawn. So if you're going to steal your
neighbor's newspaper, that's the time to do it.
4. Don't be irreplaceable. If you can't be replaced, you can't be
promoted.
5. Always remember that you're unique. Just like everyone else.
6. Never test the depth of the water with both feet.
7. If you think nobody cares if you're alive, try missing a couple of
car
payments.
8. Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes.
That way, when you criticize them, you're a mile away and you have
their
shoes.
9. If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you.
10. Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Teach him how to fish,
and he will sit in a boat and drink beer all day.
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Also, ladies, come pick up your gents.
What has happened lately?
Well, Kate's in Chicago and I'm currently taking care of her rabbit, who has decided that she really liked curtains. Lusine's in Armenia and suffering from some combination of boredom and heat, though it's not so bad now, I hear, since she started having art classes. Victoria's still in SF. Anna's around, having just been freed from classes, and likewise, has errants to run (not to mention work).
My dad's finally finished the floor. That's something. And I've been collecting plants after a fashion. Mostly though, I've slept. I even slept until nine this morning which was very strange considering my usual habits, but very nice also.
Nostalgia. And I don't even know what I'm nostalgic for. Oh there are guesses, as there always will, but for this once, I don't think I'm about to hit upon the answer any time in the near future. Nor do I want to.
I'll leave off this very much rambling post with something my old ESL teacher has sent me:
ZEN SARCASM
1. Do not walk behind me, for I may not lead. Do not walk ahead of me,
for I may not follow. Do not walk beside me either. Just pretty much
leave me the hell alone.
2. The journey of a thousand miles begins with a broken fan belt and
leaky tire
3. It's always darkest before dawn. So if you're going to steal your
neighbor's newspaper, that's the time to do it.
4. Don't be irreplaceable. If you can't be replaced, you can't be
promoted.
5. Always remember that you're unique. Just like everyone else.
6. Never test the depth of the water with both feet.
7. If you think nobody cares if you're alive, try missing a couple of
car
payments.
8. Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes.
That way, when you criticize them, you're a mile away and you have
their
shoes.
9. If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you.
10. Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Teach him how to fish,
and he will sit in a boat and drink beer all day.
Delete Reply Forward Spam Move...
Previous | Next | Back to Messages Save Message Text | Full Headers
Also, ladies, come pick up your gents.
20060813
Annoucement: Ladies, come and pick your your gents...
If you would like to reclaim / update your character, now's the time to do it. I daresay that all of them have "gained" (AHEM) enough personality to be stand-alone characters. Ah yes, about the reclaiming / updating: when a character's reclaimed, he won't appear again in my writing / art. Updating is, well, updating. You download the character profile, add / change what you will (if you would be so kind as to make the changed parts a different color, that would be much appreciated)) and then send the edited version back (email or, I don't know, you can always print it out and thwack me over the head with it?). Here are the profiles (.doc) uploaded under my geocity account. Listed alphabetically by last name we have:
Mssr. N. Lucille
Mr. M. J. Reynolds
Mr. G. F. Smith
Oh yes, if you reclaim your character, email or otherwise. Just let me know. You are not allowed to claim someone else's character unless she consents and yes, I'm leaving Zach out of it and he's not open to anyone's claim.
Any further writing (in planning or otherwise) will be postponed until I get some form of response from the three people I'm waiting to hear from (who hopefully still reads this). Meanwhile, the random sketches continues haphazardly at my livejournal.
Cheers. The year-long experiment has certainly been an experience.
Mssr. N. Lucille
Oh yes, if you reclaim your character, email or otherwise. Just let me know. You are not allowed to claim someone else's character unless she consents and yes, I'm leaving Zach out of it and he's not open to anyone's claim.
Any further writing (in planning or otherwise) will be postponed until I get some form of response from the three people I'm waiting to hear from (who hopefully still reads this). Meanwhile, the random sketches continues haphazardly at my livejournal.
Cheers. The year-long experiment has certainly been an experience.
20060805
Recap: And merrily met again
So here's a recap, something I haven't done, it seems, for a while.
Moving continues. Except now it's much less of "got to get this from here to there" and more of "how to assemble this in a semi-decent home-like manner once it's there." There is now a new floor on the first floor (no pun intended) and it's gratifying to go for DAYS without stepping on a nail that's poking through the worn through carpet. I tried avoiding the nails, but when you spend as much of your time running around the house barefoot as I tend to do, trying to avoid the nails, no matter how herculean the effort, is not good enough.
Digging around in the garden also continues. It takes approximately one month post tarp-removal for weeds to start showing up in all available and watered areas. (And by available I mean any place that's marginally less cement like than cement and the hard baked clay region.) The cucumbers have gone in and I've actually managed to start the tomatoes from seed. That's where they are still. Starting. Tomatoes from seed takes a great deal longer than tomatoes from seedling as my mother later found out. There are flowers too, and there will be more food followed by still more flowers. Currently it's all very confusing where anything will eventually end up due to the fact that my parents disagree with me in where things should go. I tend to, for instance, want to plant the things that like the sun in very sunny spots. My parents are more practical in that they hope to plant things in the area where the soil is actually workable (i.e. not cement like). There is, until either the arrival of more potting soil or a change in the rotation of earth, no right or wrong answer about this, so we'll see what happens.
Class goes on. I have just completed a program that calculates loan information and prints amortization tables. Which I don't entirely understand yet. Which the computer seems to be just fine with, once I give it the equations and format. It's boggling, but at least the computer has no trouble with negative signs-- something I think we should all be glad about.
Went to Kate's yesterday. It was her mother's birthday and I arrived just as her mother was about to leave. There was a certain amount of ranting involved, as it usually happens. And as it usually happens Kate showed me downloaded things on her laptop. I think I'm going to call these episodes of downloaded-things-viewing "cultural lessons," which is what it ideally is, except I don't have to worry about tests (there are occasional "pop quizzes" though, I think). Which is nice. We had cake and cider later, which is also nice. It never fails to amuse my parents when my friends "try to feed me", but I think there's another issue here that needs investigation.
On a random note: "mind your Ps and Qs" is cited, by the Oxford English Dictionary in 1779 as a childish abbreviation to the phrase "mind your pleases and thank yous". However, there have been various other explanations for it, which include but are probably not limited to these.
Your source of information is brought to you by:
-Google- now finally a dictionary word in the Merriam Webster Diction which the meaning is something along the lines of "to search, to find."
[edit 17:54]
Taken directly from email from Kate:
Talk about timing.
Moving continues. Except now it's much less of "got to get this from here to there" and more of "how to assemble this in a semi-decent home-like manner once it's there." There is now a new floor on the first floor (no pun intended) and it's gratifying to go for DAYS without stepping on a nail that's poking through the worn through carpet. I tried avoiding the nails, but when you spend as much of your time running around the house barefoot as I tend to do, trying to avoid the nails, no matter how herculean the effort, is not good enough.
Digging around in the garden also continues. It takes approximately one month post tarp-removal for weeds to start showing up in all available and watered areas. (And by available I mean any place that's marginally less cement like than cement and the hard baked clay region.) The cucumbers have gone in and I've actually managed to start the tomatoes from seed. That's where they are still. Starting. Tomatoes from seed takes a great deal longer than tomatoes from seedling as my mother later found out. There are flowers too, and there will be more food followed by still more flowers. Currently it's all very confusing where anything will eventually end up due to the fact that my parents disagree with me in where things should go. I tend to, for instance, want to plant the things that like the sun in very sunny spots. My parents are more practical in that they hope to plant things in the area where the soil is actually workable (i.e. not cement like). There is, until either the arrival of more potting soil or a change in the rotation of earth, no right or wrong answer about this, so we'll see what happens.
Class goes on. I have just completed a program that calculates loan information and prints amortization tables. Which I don't entirely understand yet. Which the computer seems to be just fine with, once I give it the equations and format. It's boggling, but at least the computer has no trouble with negative signs-- something I think we should all be glad about.
Went to Kate's yesterday. It was her mother's birthday and I arrived just as her mother was about to leave. There was a certain amount of ranting involved, as it usually happens. And as it usually happens Kate showed me downloaded things on her laptop. I think I'm going to call these episodes of downloaded-things-viewing "cultural lessons," which is what it ideally is, except I don't have to worry about tests (there are occasional "pop quizzes" though, I think). Which is nice. We had cake and cider later, which is also nice. It never fails to amuse my parents when my friends "try to feed me", but I think there's another issue here that needs investigation.
On a random note: "mind your Ps and Qs" is cited, by the Oxford English Dictionary in 1779 as a childish abbreviation to the phrase "mind your pleases and thank yous". However, there have been various other explanations for it, which include but are probably not limited to these.
Your source of information is brought to you by:
-Google- now finally a dictionary word in the Merriam Webster Diction which the meaning is something along the lines of "to search, to find."
[edit 17:54]
Taken directly from email from Kate:
Apparently there is some debate about the origins of the phrase. It can be traced as far back as the 17th century, but no one knows what it's *actually* referring to. There are some theories, however.
The version I've heard is the one where people confused the p's and the q's in printing shop.
I also remember the thing about "pleases" and "thank you's", which makes sense, considering the phrase itself refers to proper behaviour.
http://www.idiomsite.com/psandqs.htm
http://www.yaelf.com/aueFAQ/mifmindyourpsandqs.shtml
http://geekswithblogs.net/mtreadwell/archive/2004/04/03/3642.aspx
The version I've heard is the one where people confused the p's and the q's in printing shop.
I also remember the thing about "pleases" and "thank you's", which makes sense, considering the phrase itself refers to proper behaviour.
http://www.idiomsite.com/psandqs.htm
http://www.yaelf.com/aueFAQ/mifmindyourpsandqs.shtml
http://geekswithblogs.net/mtreadwell/archive/2004/04/03/3642.aspx
Talk about timing.
20060802
Annoucement: Guess what
I have phone again. And internet. At home.
This is possibly one of the most exciting developements that has occured to me this summer.
Look for more posts in the near future. Meanwhile, I have to get my stuff together and prep for my classes.
This is possibly one of the most exciting developements that has occured to me this summer.
Look for more posts in the near future. Meanwhile, I have to get my stuff together and prep for my classes.
20060728
Memoirs: DC Humor
Okay, so not having internet at home makes posting regularly, or even posting irregularly, difficult. But here it is- today I'll talk about the dish room.
How shall I put it? The dish room is the source of humor and grief for most DC workers. You cannot have a DC without a dish room. When ceramics and silverware are used to serve over a thousand peopl, you better hope that there's some place to clean and sterilize them. There have been odd instances when the dish machine (the thing that cleans and sterilizes) broke, in various DCs. That would temporarily qualify the place as a DC without a dishroom, sort of. But those various instances have not been pleasant. I think I remember someone telling me about how some of the dishes had to be carted over to the other DC to clean up afterwards.
During my time there nothing so eventful have happened. We had this instance where the dish return (a series of racks with conveyer belt, for those of you who don't know what I'm talking about) broke and people had to come in and fix it. I think that was either my first or second day as the "dish captain" (a title assigned to the one person whose shift in the dishroom started the earliest, and the person is in charge of (sort of) over seeing things and making sure everyone got their breaks). Then there was the other time when the room flooded (by no means a rare occurance, actually, since the room seemed to be decidedly hydrophillic), and I had to unload very hot dishes next to guys who were trying to fix the plumbing. That was interesting. The dishes were hot.
Which brings up the other unforgettable point of very hot dishes. I heard that we used to have thick, sort of heat proof gloves, but no one ever found out what happened to them and new ones never arrived. (I've heard it brought up in job training, and I've heard it brought up in front of management, yet no new ones have materialized even up till the day I left.) As far as I know people are still wearing the regular sheet-o-plastic gloves - one on top of the other, for several layers. Except you still loose the feelings in your fingers in the end, after the pain goes away. This is why the dish captain usually switches the people around so no one got stuck unloading burning hot dishes (oh, for clarification, the heat's from the machine: sterilization to kill germs, I think) from the dish machine. Except there were a few people who were very good at it and who got used to it (and consequently probably lost all nerve endings in their finger tips) who preferred to work there. In which case you mostly leave them alone because they ARE good at it. Speed is essential when the dirty dishes are coming in by the hundreds (no joke here).
But the dish room is humor too. The radio is always on. You may not always be able to hear it over the clatter but it's always on. I never knew any of the stations but that's to be expected and had nothing to do with the fact that I was in Davis. Mike is, I think, one of the few people who can actually not only make out what songs are playing, but sing along with most of them. Dish room is playing build-a-city with mug-crates and plates and cracking jokes that were loud by default because - well, dish room. Dish room is Mike blowing up an empty plastic bag (the sort that lines large milk cartons, as in the really large ones that you get in cafeterias) and sealing it, and then sending it through the dish machine again and again to see when it'll pop. It got to the point where every few seconds everyone'd crane their necks to see whether or not the square balloon of plastic will emerge from the other end, steaming, glistening, and triumphant but alas, the plastic was no match for the machine and it eventually popped, forcing us to seek other means of amusement.
My that was a long sentence.
Dish room is cleaning up after people and seeing after the details sometimes, going into each station (kitchenettes, don't hold me up on the spelling if you can guess what word I'm trying to spell) to see if there's any dirty dish that needs to be picked up, or if they needed any clean dishes or silverware. Dish room is looking for brooms and detergents and someone who actually knew what all those buttons all over the walls and sides of machines were for, and which one was to turn something off. Dish room is being repeatedly sprayed (I've started calling it "being baptized by the dishroom") while the people are spraying the machine down after the day's done (and darkness has fallen, off of the wings of night, har). It's rather hard to remain pristine after working there, and showering afterwards is more or less a necessity.
In other words, working in the dishroom is hot, wet, and hard. The only people I've ever heard who wanted to work in the dishroom were mostly shift leaders, so they can avoid talking to people. In other words, working in the dish room is jokes and radio. In other words, one of my fellow worker had put it: you have not really worked in the DC until you've covered either the pot room or the dish room.
How shall I put it? The dish room is the source of humor and grief for most DC workers. You cannot have a DC without a dish room. When ceramics and silverware are used to serve over a thousand peopl, you better hope that there's some place to clean and sterilize them. There have been odd instances when the dish machine (the thing that cleans and sterilizes) broke, in various DCs. That would temporarily qualify the place as a DC without a dishroom, sort of. But those various instances have not been pleasant. I think I remember someone telling me about how some of the dishes had to be carted over to the other DC to clean up afterwards.
During my time there nothing so eventful have happened. We had this instance where the dish return (a series of racks with conveyer belt, for those of you who don't know what I'm talking about) broke and people had to come in and fix it. I think that was either my first or second day as the "dish captain" (a title assigned to the one person whose shift in the dishroom started the earliest, and the person is in charge of (sort of) over seeing things and making sure everyone got their breaks). Then there was the other time when the room flooded (by no means a rare occurance, actually, since the room seemed to be decidedly hydrophillic), and I had to unload very hot dishes next to guys who were trying to fix the plumbing. That was interesting. The dishes were hot.
Which brings up the other unforgettable point of very hot dishes. I heard that we used to have thick, sort of heat proof gloves, but no one ever found out what happened to them and new ones never arrived. (I've heard it brought up in job training, and I've heard it brought up in front of management, yet no new ones have materialized even up till the day I left.) As far as I know people are still wearing the regular sheet-o-plastic gloves - one on top of the other, for several layers. Except you still loose the feelings in your fingers in the end, after the pain goes away. This is why the dish captain usually switches the people around so no one got stuck unloading burning hot dishes (oh, for clarification, the heat's from the machine: sterilization to kill germs, I think) from the dish machine. Except there were a few people who were very good at it and who got used to it (and consequently probably lost all nerve endings in their finger tips) who preferred to work there. In which case you mostly leave them alone because they ARE good at it. Speed is essential when the dirty dishes are coming in by the hundreds (no joke here).
But the dish room is humor too. The radio is always on. You may not always be able to hear it over the clatter but it's always on. I never knew any of the stations but that's to be expected and had nothing to do with the fact that I was in Davis. Mike is, I think, one of the few people who can actually not only make out what songs are playing, but sing along with most of them. Dish room is playing build-a-city with mug-crates and plates and cracking jokes that were loud by default because - well, dish room. Dish room is Mike blowing up an empty plastic bag (the sort that lines large milk cartons, as in the really large ones that you get in cafeterias) and sealing it, and then sending it through the dish machine again and again to see when it'll pop. It got to the point where every few seconds everyone'd crane their necks to see whether or not the square balloon of plastic will emerge from the other end, steaming, glistening, and triumphant but alas, the plastic was no match for the machine and it eventually popped, forcing us to seek other means of amusement.
My that was a long sentence.
Dish room is cleaning up after people and seeing after the details sometimes, going into each station (kitchenettes, don't hold me up on the spelling if you can guess what word I'm trying to spell) to see if there's any dirty dish that needs to be picked up, or if they needed any clean dishes or silverware. Dish room is looking for brooms and detergents and someone who actually knew what all those buttons all over the walls and sides of machines were for, and which one was to turn something off. Dish room is being repeatedly sprayed (I've started calling it "being baptized by the dishroom") while the people are spraying the machine down after the day's done (and darkness has fallen, off of the wings of night, har). It's rather hard to remain pristine after working there, and showering afterwards is more or less a necessity.
In other words, working in the dishroom is hot, wet, and hard. The only people I've ever heard who wanted to work in the dishroom were mostly shift leaders, so they can avoid talking to people. In other words, working in the dish room is jokes and radio. In other words, one of my fellow worker had put it: you have not really worked in the DC until you've covered either the pot room or the dish room.
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