I'm eating Ramen noodles. I cooked them in the same red enamel saucepan I used to cook them in when I was twelve. I spent ten minutes cuddling with a big, dumb, black dog. My mom and I spent the afternoon together, doing nothing. There is no comfort in the world like mom's house.
All is well.
Friday, December 30, 2005
Monday, December 26, 2005
Red-eye flight
Who the hell coined that term? It is an evil phrase which combines my two biggest fears: I'm terrified of red eyes, and I don't love flying either. (Coincidentally, I don't like its definition, flying at night, either.) Bah.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
raging hormones. bored at work.
Silver is sexy. Let me explain: Keith Olbermann. Sean Connery. Drew Pinksy. Anderson Cooper. Hot.
Three geek-a-rific dads came in to my work today with their sick kids - dark messy hair and thick Buddy Holly framed glasses. *so adorable.* I'm glad nerds are finally having their day in the sun, but I've been a loyal fan for years.(Still, the best guys are intelligent, handsome Spanish classical guitarists with a wicked sense of humor and a strange, unfettered love for garden gnomes, Sim Golf and salad.)
Three geek-a-rific dads came in to my work today with their sick kids - dark messy hair and thick Buddy Holly framed glasses. *so adorable.* I'm glad nerds are finally having their day in the sun, but I've been a loyal fan for years.(Still, the best guys are intelligent, handsome Spanish classical guitarists with a wicked sense of humor and a strange, unfettered love for garden gnomes, Sim Golf and salad.)
Friday, December 23, 2005
Things I love about Topeka...
my Mom
Topeka High
my family
Erica, David, Regina, Jeremy and Hannah
Shunga Trail
seeing old friends
the train at Gage Park
El Cazador
going out to breakfast with Ricky
driving my mom's car, which is a lot nicer than mine
sleeping in my old bedroom
location-inspired memories that sneak up on me when I'm there
Things I don't love about Topeka...
Fred Phelps
sales tax
local businesses? not so much...
lack of nightlife
intelligent design vs. evolution
local government
humidity
USD 501
lack of cultural events
location-inspired memories that sneak up on me when I'm there
Topeka High
my family
Erica, David, Regina, Jeremy and Hannah
Shunga Trail
seeing old friends
the train at Gage Park
El Cazador
going out to breakfast with Ricky
driving my mom's car, which is a lot nicer than mine
sleeping in my old bedroom
location-inspired memories that sneak up on me when I'm there
Things I don't love about Topeka...
Fred Phelps
sales tax
local businesses? not so much...
lack of nightlife
intelligent design vs. evolution
local government
humidity
USD 501
lack of cultural events
location-inspired memories that sneak up on me when I'm there
Do you dance, Mr. Darcy?
Margaret and I went to see Pride and Prejudice tonight at the Wilma. So beautiful. (Big, dreamy, contented sigh.)
Saturday, December 17, 2005
crazy hippies
I just got home from taking Luis to the airport. The trip was so typical Missoula. Here's some highlights:
1. We got there at 4:50 for his 6:00 flight. Northwest's ticket counter wasn't open yet.They didn't show up until after 5:00.
2. Out of the 300 or so people at the airport this particular morning, I knew three of them. I've only lived here for two years - this is a small town.
3. After we got Luis checked in, we went in search of food for him. The (yes, the - as in the only) restaurant isn't open that early, but they had a window selling coffee and muffins. As Luis bought his chocolate muffin, a man's voice made the following announcement over the intercom:
"Would all passengers please remember to take their drug paraphernalia out of their checked luggage before bringing it to security."
The woman selling coffee didn't seem surprised by the announcement, but rather she just made a mellowed-out face and quipped, "But dude, that was my favorite pipe..."
Crazy.
So now I return home to a Luis-less apartment, and after finishing my oatmeal, I'm going back to bed. I'm always sad to see him go, but at least I get to sleep kitty-cornered. Or kattywhompus, Luis likes to make fun of me for saying. (That means diagonal, to those of you non-midwesterners.)
*Yawn*...Goodnight.
1. We got there at 4:50 for his 6:00 flight. Northwest's ticket counter wasn't open yet.They didn't show up until after 5:00.
2. Out of the 300 or so people at the airport this particular morning, I knew three of them. I've only lived here for two years - this is a small town.
3. After we got Luis checked in, we went in search of food for him. The (yes, the - as in the only) restaurant isn't open that early, but they had a window selling coffee and muffins. As Luis bought his chocolate muffin, a man's voice made the following announcement over the intercom:
"Would all passengers please remember to take their drug paraphernalia out of their checked luggage before bringing it to security."
The woman selling coffee didn't seem surprised by the announcement, but rather she just made a mellowed-out face and quipped, "But dude, that was my favorite pipe..."
Crazy.
So now I return home to a Luis-less apartment, and after finishing my oatmeal, I'm going back to bed. I'm always sad to see him go, but at least I get to sleep kitty-cornered. Or kattywhompus, Luis likes to make fun of me for saying. (That means diagonal, to those of you non-midwesterners.)
*Yawn*...Goodnight.
Monday, December 12, 2005
Strange things, and a conscience.
My anatomy final was this morning at 8:00. Along with a surge of relief, it brought with it a strange chain of events...
When my alarm goes off at 6:15, I'm jolted away from a dream about brains. In my dream I was holding an intact human brain, and the cerebellum started falling away in sections, dangling from the brainstem by its arbor vitae (which I don't think is anatomically possible, but there you have it). Awake and confused, I get out of bed and putter to the kitchen for a clementine and a glass of water, and a spot of review before heading off to the test.
I get to Urey just before the test starts, my stomach in knots. Dr. Westphal is known for giving ridiculously hard exams. I get my copy and look through the first few questions. They're different from those on earlier tests. I'm dumbstuck - these questions are so much better than we've had in the past! It's really almost like someone else wrote the exam. A flood of relief comes and I get to work.
After finishing the test I head over to the health sciences building to pick up my graded lab practical exam. I check the sheet hanging on the bulletin, and I'm floored to see a 94 next to my id number. I'm usually a little giddy and disbelieving when my grade is higher than I anticipated, but this time I'm sure they messed up my score. I go in and pick up my exam, and sure enough, I got an 84. I recount the points several times, and double check the posted scores. Definitely a typo. The only hard evidence of this is clutched in my now sweating hands. This extra ten points could all but ensure me a 'B' for the semester. This class has been unfairly graded all semester, and it's caused me endless hours of fretting and misery. And now, someone has inadvertently handed me a better grade. So what next?
I walk into the room, head shaking in mild disbelief. I hand my test to Dave and tell him my score is wrong on the spreadsheet. He asks what is posted, and I tell him. He looks at me like I'm sprouting antlers, and says that my honesty kills him.
Yeah, it kills me too.
If, at 1:30 this morning when I was feverishly cramming for this final, you had asked me what I would do in this exact senario, I would have responded (without missing a beat) "keep my mouth shut".
It's nice to find out you're a better person than you think you are.
When my alarm goes off at 6:15, I'm jolted away from a dream about brains. In my dream I was holding an intact human brain, and the cerebellum started falling away in sections, dangling from the brainstem by its arbor vitae (which I don't think is anatomically possible, but there you have it). Awake and confused, I get out of bed and putter to the kitchen for a clementine and a glass of water, and a spot of review before heading off to the test.
I get to Urey just before the test starts, my stomach in knots. Dr. Westphal is known for giving ridiculously hard exams. I get my copy and look through the first few questions. They're different from those on earlier tests. I'm dumbstuck - these questions are so much better than we've had in the past! It's really almost like someone else wrote the exam. A flood of relief comes and I get to work.
After finishing the test I head over to the health sciences building to pick up my graded lab practical exam. I check the sheet hanging on the bulletin, and I'm floored to see a 94 next to my id number. I'm usually a little giddy and disbelieving when my grade is higher than I anticipated, but this time I'm sure they messed up my score. I go in and pick up my exam, and sure enough, I got an 84. I recount the points several times, and double check the posted scores. Definitely a typo. The only hard evidence of this is clutched in my now sweating hands. This extra ten points could all but ensure me a 'B' for the semester. This class has been unfairly graded all semester, and it's caused me endless hours of fretting and misery. And now, someone has inadvertently handed me a better grade. So what next?
I walk into the room, head shaking in mild disbelief. I hand my test to Dave and tell him my score is wrong on the spreadsheet. He asks what is posted, and I tell him. He looks at me like I'm sprouting antlers, and says that my honesty kills him.
Yeah, it kills me too.
If, at 1:30 this morning when I was feverishly cramming for this final, you had asked me what I would do in this exact senario, I would have responded (without missing a beat) "keep my mouth shut".
It's nice to find out you're a better person than you think you are.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Musings
It's unfortunate when one has tired of winter by early December, particularly when one lives in the Northwest, where the prospect of snow continuing into May is not unheard of.
I'm a dynamite whistler - Patience by Guns N' Roses came on the radio while I was driving home, which is an excellent song for showcasing my mad whistling skills. (even if I'm alone in the car...)
I don't like to kill bugs (particularly ones that crunch). I'm more from the "trap-them-with-a-cup-and-a-magazine-and-free-them-outdoors" school. I used to just roll up the magazine and take care of them the old fashioned way, but that was before I encountered the stink bug. This is the most revolting creature I've ever seen. Not only are they creepy looking, but they smell to high heaven when messed with. We have vaulted ceilings in our living room, and this fall I spotted one of these guys up near the rafters. We didn't know what they were at the time, and Luis and I made the mistake of using the vacuum attachment to suck it down from the wall. The apartment smelled for hours. Ew.
(The bug story started because I just had to kill a spider. He was too high on the wall to trap in a glass.)
There is nothing slipperier than snow that has been trodden down to slush, which has frozen into a panel of ice, upon which a light dusting of powdery snow has fallen. Walking across campus, I like to count the number of people who lose their footing and slide around on the way to class. My solution? I walk in the snow. My feet may get cold, but I remain vertical.
I'm a dynamite whistler - Patience by Guns N' Roses came on the radio while I was driving home, which is an excellent song for showcasing my mad whistling skills. (even if I'm alone in the car...)
I don't like to kill bugs (particularly ones that crunch). I'm more from the "trap-them-with-a-cup-and-a-magazine-and-free-them-outdoors" school. I used to just roll up the magazine and take care of them the old fashioned way, but that was before I encountered the stink bug. This is the most revolting creature I've ever seen. Not only are they creepy looking, but they smell to high heaven when messed with. We have vaulted ceilings in our living room, and this fall I spotted one of these guys up near the rafters. We didn't know what they were at the time, and Luis and I made the mistake of using the vacuum attachment to suck it down from the wall. The apartment smelled for hours. Ew.
(The bug story started because I just had to kill a spider. He was too high on the wall to trap in a glass.)
There is nothing slipperier than snow that has been trodden down to slush, which has frozen into a panel of ice, upon which a light dusting of powdery snow has fallen. Walking across campus, I like to count the number of people who lose their footing and slide around on the way to class. My solution? I walk in the snow. My feet may get cold, but I remain vertical.
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