...I have John and Hannah to generate content for this blog, cuz otherwise I got nothing. I mean, the semester is over, so there are no weirdos to sit next to in class for me to report on, and I probably won't be riding the bus back and forth as much since I am now down one tutee (she is going to take an English class at the community college).
Hannah dug out her old electronic pig who is supposed to walk and grunt, but even with fresh batteries, he is defective. That doesn't matter to Hannah, though. She has dragged him around for several days now. She put a necklace on him, and I found her sticking the Kellies (the littlest Barbies) under his necklace. Hannah suggested that when people die, that's how they get to heaven--strapped to a pig.
Between the Barbies and the pig and a doll bed, the couch was pretty cluttered, so John told Hannah to clear it off (he's so picky about there being places available to *sit*). When he saw that the doll bed was still there, he gave her another reminder. Then she pointed out that the pig was in the doll bed, asleep. And of course that led John to make a comment about a pig in a blanket.
Me: *snort*
H: Be careful what you say, or piggy will kick your butt, Dad.
Me: Ha! Piggy can't even walk; he's a paraplegic.
H: But *Miss* Piggy is his aunt, and he has a cell phone.
Can't argue with her logic.
We all read a little as part of our bedtime routines (well, sometimes I do sudoku), and in addition, Eliza cat gets some petting from John. But when he is ready to read, it's nuts to Eliza:
"This is a book, Eliza. You can't be a part of it because you're illiterate."
Maybe someday soon I will also be witty, but don't hold your breath waiting for it.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Sunday, February 10, 2008
For the ladies
A quickie from my notebook:
Before class, I stuffed myself full of fat, salt, sugar, and caffein, the 4* food groups for the menstruating woman.
*I have heard that there is a 5th group--orange--but this hasn't been independently confirmed.
Before class, I stuffed myself full of fat, salt, sugar, and caffein, the 4* food groups for the menstruating woman.
*I have heard that there is a 5th group--orange--but this hasn't been independently confirmed.
Hannah's school vacation
I took Hannah and her friend to an indoor water park last week while she was on vacation from school. Hannah is really a water-slide girl, but she took time out from her sliding frenzy to hop into the wave pool when they turned it on every half hour.
Hannah is *pale*. Despite being a natural brunette in a highly blonde society, compared to the pale peach of her German friend’s skin, Hannah is parchment colored. There are fungi growing in caves darker than her. John would probably attribute this to the fact that she refuses to leave the house unless there is the promise of ice cream or a video rental at the end of the walk, but it is winter, and everyone is pasty.
It was raining when we got there (it hailed twice before we even left the house that morning), but the sun came out briefly while we were there, deliciously scorching me through the plexiglas roof. It was the best 5 minutes of my day (spread out over two shinings).
Hannah and friend spotted a couple of girls from their elementary school class and went over to say hi. And were promptly snubbed. Hannah wasn’t particularly good friends with them back in the day anyhow, so she just shrugged it off with the 10-year-old equivalent of “eh—dicks”.
When Hannah has a school vacation, she goes back and forth between utter, tv-watching boredom and maniacal self-entertainment. She was out all last week (she goes back tomorrow), so when she hasn’t been watching videos or playing Sims on the computer/Nintendo, she has actually had a pretty full schedule:
practicing her stage-diving / dying dramatically from a self-inflicted plastic-sword wound onto a pile of pillows and blankets on the sofa-bed
whacking a tennis ball around the apartment without breaking anything
working on her skills as a one-man band
and training her stuffed animals to be back-up/stage crew
Hannah is *pale*. Despite being a natural brunette in a highly blonde society, compared to the pale peach of her German friend’s skin, Hannah is parchment colored. There are fungi growing in caves darker than her. John would probably attribute this to the fact that she refuses to leave the house unless there is the promise of ice cream or a video rental at the end of the walk, but it is winter, and everyone is pasty.
It was raining when we got there (it hailed twice before we even left the house that morning), but the sun came out briefly while we were there, deliciously scorching me through the plexiglas roof. It was the best 5 minutes of my day (spread out over two shinings).
Hannah and friend spotted a couple of girls from their elementary school class and went over to say hi. And were promptly snubbed. Hannah wasn’t particularly good friends with them back in the day anyhow, so she just shrugged it off with the 10-year-old equivalent of “eh—dicks”.
When Hannah has a school vacation, she goes back and forth between utter, tv-watching boredom and maniacal self-entertainment. She was out all last week (she goes back tomorrow), so when she hasn’t been watching videos or playing Sims on the computer/Nintendo, she has actually had a pretty full schedule:
practicing her stage-diving / dying dramatically from a self-inflicted plastic-sword wound onto a pile of pillows and blankets on the sofa-bed
whacking a tennis ball around the apartment without breaking anything
working on her skills as a one-man band
and training her stuffed animals to be back-up/stage crew
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Photo bonanza!
Slapping up some photos with commentary is much easier than coming up with real content, so here comes a whole pile of new photos.
Hannah desperately needed new shoes, so we hit the shoe store before going to the movies last week. She now wears the same size shoes as my mother (who admittedly has wee little fairy feet, but who is nonetheless an adult). Can you say „bling!“? (John still refuses to believe that this is a real word.)
Hannah goes through phases of digging stuff out of the backs of closets to play with, and the sports supplies have come out recently. Here, she donned a pair of rubber gloves so the black grip on the tennis racket wouldn’t continue to turn her hands black. (I don’t know what the deal is, but this photo has gotten 25 views at Flickr, without me adding any special tags.)
Here are my new glasses. You might expect them to be made of solid gold, considering how much they cost me, but no—they are plastic and metal.
Did you ever see that segment of the Muppets with the vend-o-face machine? Hannah is one of their best customers. (Oddly, she found all the parts to this get-up, minus the band-aids, in the kitchen utensil drawer.)
Here’s where Hannah stores her nose when she’s not using it. (Not something you want to see when you go into the kitchen!)
Hannah got into my make-up while I was off giving an exam last night. Sparkly! And pink!
Hannah wanted to make a cup-and-string phone, but it doesn’t work with plastic cups, so she re-purposed it to function as a pull-system of communication: 1 pull = turn out the lights, etc.
Hannah desperately needed new shoes, so we hit the shoe store before going to the movies last week. She now wears the same size shoes as my mother (who admittedly has wee little fairy feet, but who is nonetheless an adult). Can you say „bling!“? (John still refuses to believe that this is a real word.)
Hannah goes through phases of digging stuff out of the backs of closets to play with, and the sports supplies have come out recently. Here, she donned a pair of rubber gloves so the black grip on the tennis racket wouldn’t continue to turn her hands black. (I don’t know what the deal is, but this photo has gotten 25 views at Flickr, without me adding any special tags.)
Here are my new glasses. You might expect them to be made of solid gold, considering how much they cost me, but no—they are plastic and metal.
Did you ever see that segment of the Muppets with the vend-o-face machine? Hannah is one of their best customers. (Oddly, she found all the parts to this get-up, minus the band-aids, in the kitchen utensil drawer.)
Here’s where Hannah stores her nose when she’s not using it. (Not something you want to see when you go into the kitchen!)
Hannah got into my make-up while I was off giving an exam last night. Sparkly! And pink!
Hannah wanted to make a cup-and-string phone, but it doesn’t work with plastic cups, so she re-purposed it to function as a pull-system of communication: 1 pull = turn out the lights, etc.
I know I’m lame
I held the last session of my class last week, so I didn’t have to teach this morning. Plus, I feel a cold coming on, and it is too cold and wet to bother going to the Mardi Gras parade, so without further ado, here is something from my notebook, written last Friday:
When I finish this course today (on break!), I’ll have spent 15 hours (minus breaks) learning what to expect from my master’s thesis and exams. The class has been useful, if redundant; everything is covered twice—once for the literature people and once for the linguistics people. But I’ve learned something every session, so it hasn’t been a complete waste of time.
Most of the other students are pretty sharp (you’d hope they would be by this point) and ask pertinent questions, but there are a few that make me wonder how they get their pants on in the morning without help. (And somebody smells like corn! I hope it isn’t me, since I am generally well groomed and haven’t eaten corn in ages...)
During one of the breaks, I braved the coffee machine. I know—I swore it off a while back, but I only had 45 cents, which is just enough to buy a cup of crappy coffee out of the machine. But check it out: I put in 45 cents and got a cup of crappy coffee and 40 cents back. Wh--? Then when I went to put my cup in the recycling machine for the 10-cent refund, I found that the last person didn’t take their 10 cents out. So basically, someone *paid me* 15 cents to drink a cup of crappy instant coffee. I won against the machine!
When I finish this course today (on break!), I’ll have spent 15 hours (minus breaks) learning what to expect from my master’s thesis and exams. The class has been useful, if redundant; everything is covered twice—once for the literature people and once for the linguistics people. But I’ve learned something every session, so it hasn’t been a complete waste of time.
Most of the other students are pretty sharp (you’d hope they would be by this point) and ask pertinent questions, but there are a few that make me wonder how they get their pants on in the morning without help. (And somebody smells like corn! I hope it isn’t me, since I am generally well groomed and haven’t eaten corn in ages...)
During one of the breaks, I braved the coffee machine. I know—I swore it off a while back, but I only had 45 cents, which is just enough to buy a cup of crappy coffee out of the machine. But check it out: I put in 45 cents and got a cup of crappy coffee and 40 cents back. Wh--? Then when I went to put my cup in the recycling machine for the 10-cent refund, I found that the last person didn’t take their 10 cents out. So basically, someone *paid me* 15 cents to drink a cup of crappy instant coffee. I won against the machine!
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Eeeeeek!
Hannah has always been squeamish about certain things*: Don't talk about body parts! Change the channel when the lion eats the antelope!
*She reminds me of her uncle, Mr. Jooge, back in the days before he married into a family with a physical therapist in it.
Recently we saw a tv show that briefly covered the lungfish. This fish can breathe on land in the time it takes it to flop from one puddle to the next. It is totally slimy and floppy and gross, but still cool somehow. Hannah is (half-jokingly) convinced that our floor is infested with lungfish. Despite my repeated assurances that lungfish are unlikely to make it up to our fourth-floor apartment and through the tile floor, and that the only things on our floor are hair, crumbs, and dust, she won't put her feet down on the floor at least once a day, whenever she thinks about the lungfish.
Of course, this leads to Games You Can Play With Your Squeamish Child. Dropped something on the floor? Watch out for the lungfish!! heh heh heh
*She reminds me of her uncle, Mr. Jooge, back in the days before he married into a family with a physical therapist in it.
Recently we saw a tv show that briefly covered the lungfish. This fish can breathe on land in the time it takes it to flop from one puddle to the next. It is totally slimy and floppy and gross, but still cool somehow. Hannah is (half-jokingly) convinced that our floor is infested with lungfish. Despite my repeated assurances that lungfish are unlikely to make it up to our fourth-floor apartment and through the tile floor, and that the only things on our floor are hair, crumbs, and dust, she won't put her feet down on the floor at least once a day, whenever she thinks about the lungfish.
Of course, this leads to Games You Can Play With Your Squeamish Child. Dropped something on the floor? Watch out for the lungfish!! heh heh heh
Bowels R Us
Today I visited the ladies' room on the same floor as the classrooms in the English department. I usually don't even bother and climb at least one flight of stairs up to find suitably appointed facilities. I was cutting it close before the start of class--the one I was teaching--so I stuck to the first floor toilets. And boy was I pleasantly surprised. Ok, it did smell like pee, but there was toilet paper, soap, towels, and an unclogged toilet, so I was able to overlook that minor annoyance.
Later, I took Hannah to the movies because she got out of school early. We were the first ones in the theater (Hannah really had to go, so we bought our tickets *early*), so we got to enjoy the aroma of a lost diaper while we waited for the movie to start. Every time we dropped something on the floor and had to feel around for it in the gloom, the search was accompanied by a cry of despair: Oh, no! Loooooost diaperrrr!
With my luck, the bus will smell like vomit to complete the trifecta of gross for me today.
For John: During the trailers for the movie, Hannah said, "That Werbung stinked!"
Later, I took Hannah to the movies because she got out of school early. We were the first ones in the theater (Hannah really had to go, so we bought our tickets *early*), so we got to enjoy the aroma of a lost diaper while we waited for the movie to start. Every time we dropped something on the floor and had to feel around for it in the gloom, the search was accompanied by a cry of despair: Oh, no! Loooooost diaperrrr!
With my luck, the bus will smell like vomit to complete the trifecta of gross for me today.
For John: During the trailers for the movie, Hannah said, "That Werbung stinked!"
Monday, January 28, 2008
So silly, so true
Hannah wanted some of John's chocolate, and he told her she'd have to put away her laundry first. "Screw it," she replied. She couldn't resist the chocolate for long, though, and put away the clothes about 5 minutes later.
John has been very hard on Missy cat lately, claiming that my mom gave her to us because she (the cat, not my mom) was not very classy. That's right, a low-class cat. John says I'm allowed to tell my mom as revenge for her frequent commentary on the state of his butt.
He also seems to think that Eliza cat is classy, just because she has fluffy fur. This is the cat that won't jump up on the bed when I am in it, just sits there whining until I wish there *was* a monster under the bed to eat her.
It is sometimes difficult to convince Hannah not to do things. For instance, she wouldn't stop whacking me with the oven mitts the other day, even though I repeatedly told her that mitts are not meant for violence, they are tools of peace. Instigator.
Sitting on the bus today, I had front-row seats for some extra-special craziness. First, this young woman got on who was extremely loud and friendly; I marked her as drunk and foreign right away. She sat across the aisle from me, and her low-key talking to herself was pretty noticeable from my vantage. At first I thought she might have a wireless phone*, but then I realized that, no, she was just talking to herself. Talking morphed into a noise that was either crying or laughing, I couldn't tell. Then I realized she was singing along to an iPod *and* crying. She must really take her music seriously, I thought to myself. Then she started flipping out--she tried to climb out of the window, or at least stick her head through, but it was too narrow. She climbed up and stood on the seat and shouted out through the window how much she hated this town and the people in this town--but naturally only the mean, bad ones. The whole time she is crying and crooning bits of this song in French. I was very happy to get off the bus and away from her. She smiled at me as I got off.
* The last time we were in the States, I saw a lady who could have been the twin of my mom walking around with one of those bluetooth thingies attached to her head. I don't think I had ever seen one here in Germany, and I still haven't seen many since then, but you know something has reached market saturation when the middle-aged set is using it.
John has been very hard on Missy cat lately, claiming that my mom gave her to us because she (the cat, not my mom) was not very classy. That's right, a low-class cat. John says I'm allowed to tell my mom as revenge for her frequent commentary on the state of his butt.
He also seems to think that Eliza cat is classy, just because she has fluffy fur. This is the cat that won't jump up on the bed when I am in it, just sits there whining until I wish there *was* a monster under the bed to eat her.
It is sometimes difficult to convince Hannah not to do things. For instance, she wouldn't stop whacking me with the oven mitts the other day, even though I repeatedly told her that mitts are not meant for violence, they are tools of peace. Instigator.
Sitting on the bus today, I had front-row seats for some extra-special craziness. First, this young woman got on who was extremely loud and friendly; I marked her as drunk and foreign right away. She sat across the aisle from me, and her low-key talking to herself was pretty noticeable from my vantage. At first I thought she might have a wireless phone*, but then I realized that, no, she was just talking to herself. Talking morphed into a noise that was either crying or laughing, I couldn't tell. Then I realized she was singing along to an iPod *and* crying. She must really take her music seriously, I thought to myself. Then she started flipping out--she tried to climb out of the window, or at least stick her head through, but it was too narrow. She climbed up and stood on the seat and shouted out through the window how much she hated this town and the people in this town--but naturally only the mean, bad ones. The whole time she is crying and crooning bits of this song in French. I was very happy to get off the bus and away from her. She smiled at me as I got off.
* The last time we were in the States, I saw a lady who could have been the twin of my mom walking around with one of those bluetooth thingies attached to her head. I don't think I had ever seen one here in Germany, and I still haven't seen many since then, but you know something has reached market saturation when the middle-aged set is using it.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Nee is dull
Sometimes I think I was born a stick in the mud. John loves to go to different cultural events, especially musical performances, but he doesn't often rope me into going along. Last Saturday night was one of those rare occasions. The Swedish club sponsored a trio to sing and play piano, and Hannah and I went for moral support (and cashiering, it turned out).
The concert was held at the library. I have been using the library for 4 years and never knew that there was a recital hall upstairs. In the upstairs foyer, there was an exhibit of photographs; the theme of the exhibit was transience. I didn't really care for many of the photos. They felt self-consciously pretentious to me, and a bit too random to fit neatly into the theme. But there were some photos I found really touching, especially the ones with a young person and an older relative, the tenderness and love that was apparent in the younger person. There were two other photos I particularly liked, one of a pre-schooler holding her mouth like the child in the (obviously very old) photo she is holding, the other of an old woman holding a photo of herself as a young woman. To me, those spoke of transience, in the person they used to be and the life they were about to leave behind.
Walking around looking at the photos reminded me that I used to enjoy going to museums and plays when I was a student. There's hardly a building on the UT campus that doesn't have some sort of museum or historical display in it, so I had plenty of chances to indulge my interest back then. And the semester John took a drama appreciation class, he was required to attend X number of plays, so I went with him. We saw a lot of wonderful performances that I still remember: Tennessee William's _Camino Royale_, Moliere's _Learned Ladies_, a short play _View From the Rollercoaster_ by ?? (a lovely short play about a gay blind date).
John has dragged Hannah and me along to some musical performances that were just wonderful--an evening of Arab music--and some that were bo-ring, but *drag* always seems to be the operative word. My intransigence has probably rubbed off on Hannah, and that is really not fair to her (1) or to John, who is so eager to experience new things. I don't know why I am so reluctant to leave the house, but that is something I can change.
(1) There are many things that Hannah is not interested in due to overexposure in her childhood: "Not another castle!" "I don't want to go to college when I get big!" "A concert? Bo-ring!"
The concert was held at the library. I have been using the library for 4 years and never knew that there was a recital hall upstairs. In the upstairs foyer, there was an exhibit of photographs; the theme of the exhibit was transience. I didn't really care for many of the photos. They felt self-consciously pretentious to me, and a bit too random to fit neatly into the theme. But there were some photos I found really touching, especially the ones with a young person and an older relative, the tenderness and love that was apparent in the younger person. There were two other photos I particularly liked, one of a pre-schooler holding her mouth like the child in the (obviously very old) photo she is holding, the other of an old woman holding a photo of herself as a young woman. To me, those spoke of transience, in the person they used to be and the life they were about to leave behind.
Walking around looking at the photos reminded me that I used to enjoy going to museums and plays when I was a student. There's hardly a building on the UT campus that doesn't have some sort of museum or historical display in it, so I had plenty of chances to indulge my interest back then. And the semester John took a drama appreciation class, he was required to attend X number of plays, so I went with him. We saw a lot of wonderful performances that I still remember: Tennessee William's _Camino Royale_, Moliere's _Learned Ladies_, a short play _View From the Rollercoaster_ by ?? (a lovely short play about a gay blind date).
John has dragged Hannah and me along to some musical performances that were just wonderful--an evening of Arab music--and some that were bo-ring, but *drag* always seems to be the operative word. My intransigence has probably rubbed off on Hannah, and that is really not fair to her (1) or to John, who is so eager to experience new things. I don't know why I am so reluctant to leave the house, but that is something I can change.
(1) There are many things that Hannah is not interested in due to overexposure in her childhood: "Not another castle!" "I don't want to go to college when I get big!" "A concert? Bo-ring!"
Ow! My brain!
From the bus (at a stop) I spotted a man with a dog. The man had a plastic bag, and I assumed he was waiting for his dog to do his business. But no--once he got the bag over his hand, he called the dog over, squatted behind it, and apparently had it crap directly onto his bag-covered hand.* I have never seen such a conscientious dog-owner. I have to admit, though, that I felt part of my brain fall out when l saw his particular brand of conscientiousness.
* As I told John later, it was really cold out, so at least the "poop-scooping" served a double-purpose: waste removal and hand warmer.
* As I told John later, it was really cold out, so at least the "poop-scooping" served a double-purpose: waste removal and hand warmer.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Hope Springs Eternal
We have been having really up-and-down weather this winter. I swear that our first winter here, the temps hovered just above freezing for months and months. We got snow occasionally, and it stuck around for a pretty long time once it had fallen. Now, it rained buckets yesterday, but we had frost on all the cars this morning. Plus, small bushes are blooming. In January. So when I saw that the local old-fashioned hardware shop* had put wooden sleds out, I had to applaud them for not giving up on winter just yet.
* I love this shop, although I've never been in. It reminds me of the old True-Value hardware stores (I think) in my hometown, with the amazing variety of small appliances, tools, and household stuff. The prices seem to be a bit stiff, but I may treat myself to an old-fashioned cookie press and some baking supplies when my birthday rolls around. **
**Gah! 35 in one month! Ack!
John's back has crapped out on him again. He's been trapped in the recliner with some aspirin and a hot-water bottle since Sunday. Since then, we've been arguing about the advisability of sex in that state. I'll let you guess which position John has taken on the matter. (Hint--John is a man.) He thinks he'll be able to go back to work tomorrow, even if he is still a little crooked.
You can tell Hannah is getting older: her list of wants is changing. At xmas she still wanted some Ken dolls; now she wants to dye her hair red and learn how to ski. If she doesn't start studying properly and bring her grades up, she is going to want some new parents, because she will be in deep do-doo with the ones she has.
* I love this shop, although I've never been in. It reminds me of the old True-Value hardware stores (I think) in my hometown, with the amazing variety of small appliances, tools, and household stuff. The prices seem to be a bit stiff, but I may treat myself to an old-fashioned cookie press and some baking supplies when my birthday rolls around. **
**Gah! 35 in one month! Ack!
John's back has crapped out on him again. He's been trapped in the recliner with some aspirin and a hot-water bottle since Sunday. Since then, we've been arguing about the advisability of sex in that state. I'll let you guess which position John has taken on the matter. (Hint--John is a man.) He thinks he'll be able to go back to work tomorrow, even if he is still a little crooked.
You can tell Hannah is getting older: her list of wants is changing. At xmas she still wanted some Ken dolls; now she wants to dye her hair red and learn how to ski. If she doesn't start studying properly and bring her grades up, she is going to want some new parents, because she will be in deep do-doo with the ones she has.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Out and About With Nee
Recently spotted by yours truly in the main shopping street:
1 bunny on a leash
1 guy juggling flaming batons
1 guy singing Calypso
1 Shetland pony
1 llama
We saw the pony last week when we left my department on the way to dinner, and the llama a little later; they were part of a fundraiser to feed circus animals. I was hoping to come across an elephant or a monkey, but no such luck. We did see a little girl and her mom walking around with a couple of puppets, and then we saw them again after dinner, but I don't think they were with the circus people.
Then I saw the pony again this week and decided to make a small donation if the llama was out. It was, so I did, and I gave it a little pat. It is amazing how a smal pat on a llama can brighten your day.
There was also this little old lady at the bus terminal. She was dressed nice, but she stopped every few feet to turn back and loudly berate some people waiting for a bus, including another litle old lady. That was at 7 am. The next time I saw her, around noon, a knot of police were standing around her. It's always something at the bus stop.
1 bunny on a leash
1 guy juggling flaming batons
1 guy singing Calypso
1 Shetland pony
1 llama
We saw the pony last week when we left my department on the way to dinner, and the llama a little later; they were part of a fundraiser to feed circus animals. I was hoping to come across an elephant or a monkey, but no such luck. We did see a little girl and her mom walking around with a couple of puppets, and then we saw them again after dinner, but I don't think they were with the circus people.
Then I saw the pony again this week and decided to make a small donation if the llama was out. It was, so I did, and I gave it a little pat. It is amazing how a smal pat on a llama can brighten your day.
There was also this little old lady at the bus terminal. She was dressed nice, but she stopped every few feet to turn back and loudly berate some people waiting for a bus, including another litle old lady. That was at 7 am. The next time I saw her, around noon, a knot of police were standing around her. It's always something at the bus stop.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
10 Things
John Scalzi recently had an entry up, "10 (More) Things I've Done You Probably Haven't". I felt a bit timid about commenting with a list of my own, especially since lots of people seem to have hobnobbed with the great and nearly-great, but that's no reason not to do it here. Feel free to add your own list in the comments.
1. I have lived in a foreign country for over a quarter of my life. (Hannah has lived abroad for over half of her life now.)
2. I have stood on the roof of King's College Chapel at Cambridge University.
3. I got perfect scores on 2 out of 3 sections on the GRE, 4-1/2 years after graduating from college.
4. I have an acknowledgement for my copyediting work in Historiographia Linguistica.
5. I was once (at 26) the youngest presenter ever at a national conference for distance educators. (To be fair, my boss, quite a bit older than 26, was slated to give the presentation but had to leave due to a family crisis.)
6. By the end of next year, I will have a BA with a double major from an American university and an MA with a double major from a German university.
7. I worked a full 8-hour day on the day I went into labor with Hannah. She was a week overdue at the time.
8. I was the only person in my school year, in the whole city, to make all-region band in the 9th grade.
9. From the age of birth to 18, I lived in 5 places in 2 countries and 2 states. Since 18, I have lived in 11 places in Austin, 1 place in Sweden, and 1 place in Germany, for a grand total of 18 locations.
10. The only time I have ever been high was during dental surgery (when I became one with Gustav Mahler's First Symphony).
1. I have lived in a foreign country for over a quarter of my life. (Hannah has lived abroad for over half of her life now.)
2. I have stood on the roof of King's College Chapel at Cambridge University.
3. I got perfect scores on 2 out of 3 sections on the GRE, 4-1/2 years after graduating from college.
4. I have an acknowledgement for my copyediting work in Historiographia Linguistica.
5. I was once (at 26) the youngest presenter ever at a national conference for distance educators. (To be fair, my boss, quite a bit older than 26, was slated to give the presentation but had to leave due to a family crisis.)
6. By the end of next year, I will have a BA with a double major from an American university and an MA with a double major from a German university.
7. I worked a full 8-hour day on the day I went into labor with Hannah. She was a week overdue at the time.
8. I was the only person in my school year, in the whole city, to make all-region band in the 9th grade.
9. From the age of birth to 18, I lived in 5 places in 2 countries and 2 states. Since 18, I have lived in 11 places in Austin, 1 place in Sweden, and 1 place in Germany, for a grand total of 18 locations.
10. The only time I have ever been high was during dental surgery (when I became one with Gustav Mahler's First Symphony).
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
From My Bookmarks
This post is the archive for my "From My Bookmarks" links from the sidebar. As noted, it is a rotating list, and the items that are rotated out will end up here.
Julia
I, Asshole
Mandajuice
Bad News Hughes now The Domesticated Shithead
The Rage Diaries now Filthy Commerce (but still good!)
mimi smartypants
Indexed
Ayyyy! Gently Making Fun of the Famous
Julia
I, Asshole
Mandajuice
mimi smartypants
Indexed
Ayyyy! Gently Making Fun of the Famous
New to Me
This post is the archive for my "New to Me" links from the sidebar. I'll periodically move items from there to here when I add new items there.
How to learn Swedish in 1000 difficult lessons
LA en vie now defunct
List of the Day
Homesick Texan
Bad Astronomy Blog
Fake Plastic Fish
How to learn Swedish in 1000 difficult lessons
List of the Day
Homesick Texan
Bad Astronomy Blog
Fake Plastic Fish
Monday, January 14, 2008
Artist in Training
Hannah spent most of one day painting this lovely picture of a lady.
She went back and worked on touching it up the next day, too, and even painted a frame to put around it. Then she hung it up in her room.
Then she turned it to face the wall, because the eyes were staring at her while she was trying to go to sleep.
(That’s it next to the cabinet across the room from the bed.)
She went back and worked on touching it up the next day, too, and even painted a frame to put around it. Then she hung it up in her room.
Then she turned it to face the wall, because the eyes were staring at her while she was trying to go to sleep.
(That’s it next to the cabinet across the room from the bed.)
Pick-me-up
One of the things I like about Germany is the love of fresh flowers. I needed a little pick-me-up today, and for 1.99 (less than ANYTHING in Starbucks*) I got these to cheer up the dining room.
*A second Starbucks** opened up on the same street as the first one, but on the opposite end. *insert sound of gnashing teeth* I solemnly swear that the one time I went into the one Starbucks will be the only time I ever go into any Starbucks.
**I still laugh myself stupid at Starbucks being the headquarters for Dr. Evil's international evil organization in the Austin Power's movie.
*A second Starbucks** opened up on the same street as the first one, but on the opposite end. *insert sound of gnashing teeth* I solemnly swear that the one time I went into the one Starbucks will be the only time I ever go into any Starbucks.
**I still laugh myself stupid at Starbucks being the headquarters for Dr. Evil's international evil organization in the Austin Power's movie.
Make-Over in Miniature
Friday evening we went out to eat, and Hannah informed us that short hair is now “in”, and “I want to be in.” She refused to let me take her to a salon; she was worried that she would end up with an actual “style”, when all she wanted was a chop straight across the bottom.
Here, Hannah fresh from the shower:
The difference 8 or 9 inches makes:
The carnage:
And finally, the new “in” girl:
Here, Hannah fresh from the shower:
The difference 8 or 9 inches makes:
The carnage:
And finally, the new “in” girl:
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Sugar and Spice and Death and Gore
Have you ever noticed that sometimes you will come across several similar items while roaming around the internet? For me, it has been a string of things: first Star Wars (I couldn't swing a dead cat around here without it landing on something Star Wars), then the town of the job interview, and now candy Lord of the Rings.
Here we have the Lord of the Peeps: Fellowship of the Peep. Nothing says high fantasy like sugar bunnies.
Last xmas we got The Battle of Helms Deep in Karo-vision.
Now this xmas we've gotten The Battle of Pelennor Fields, in all its sugary fierceness.
And to finish out the group, an older site, Peep Research. Who knew Peeps were so academically inclined?
Here we have the Lord of the Peeps: Fellowship of the Peep. Nothing says high fantasy like sugar bunnies.
Last xmas we got The Battle of Helms Deep in Karo-vision.
Now this xmas we've gotten The Battle of Pelennor Fields, in all its sugary fierceness.
And to finish out the group, an older site, Peep Research. Who knew Peeps were so academically inclined?
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Self-Referential to the Max
Let us share a moment of silence for the demise of Le Mariage Royale, my favorite formalwear shop to fug on. Since Cindi Lauper and Björk can only buy so many evening gowns, it was a foregone conclusion that its days were numbered. But at least there’s a silver lining: the sewing shop next door has expanded into the empty space, so now you don’t have to anchor yourself to the front door before burrowing your way through to the button display in the back.
No one wants to hear this, but I must rant about it somewhere, so feel free to move on to the end now. Still here? Anyhoo, my favorite short-cut street has apparently become a favorite dog-walking street judging by all the piles of dog crap I had to dodge yesterday. Oh, and a drunk short-cut, going by the barf. I think it is time to start issuing dogs with diapers, like Hannah came up with all those years ago. I wonder how practical a head diaper would be, to be handed out at the door of the local bars when customers leave. Maybe with goggles attached?
I am not really big on the idea of New Year’s resolutions, because it seems that self-improvement should be an on-going thing. But when everyone else is talking about it, it is a good reminder that maybe the improvement is not improving at the rate I would like, and maybe I should reanalyze. So other people’s resolutions are ok, I guess. Poor John gets to hear me moan and groan about my deficiencies, so I won’t burden you all here, but I do have mini-goals I could share:
Take my iron every day.
Drink more water.
Spend more time each week walking, and not just in the course of my day. (I must point out, though, that my office is on the 4th floor of the English Department (78 stairs and 2 long hallways from the front door), and I go there 2-3 times per week. Our apartment is on the 3rd floor of our house (40 stairs), and our bedroom is upstairs in our apartment. So I have totally got stairs covered.)
And finally, I wanted to share this photo of the best dad in the world:
He actually didn’t volunteer to play Barbies—he had them thrust upon him by a very insistent Hannah.
No one wants to hear this, but I must rant about it somewhere, so feel free to move on to the end now. Still here? Anyhoo, my favorite short-cut street has apparently become a favorite dog-walking street judging by all the piles of dog crap I had to dodge yesterday. Oh, and a drunk short-cut, going by the barf. I think it is time to start issuing dogs with diapers, like Hannah came up with all those years ago. I wonder how practical a head diaper would be, to be handed out at the door of the local bars when customers leave. Maybe with goggles attached?
I am not really big on the idea of New Year’s resolutions, because it seems that self-improvement should be an on-going thing. But when everyone else is talking about it, it is a good reminder that maybe the improvement is not improving at the rate I would like, and maybe I should reanalyze. So other people’s resolutions are ok, I guess. Poor John gets to hear me moan and groan about my deficiencies, so I won’t burden you all here, but I do have mini-goals I could share:
Take my iron every day.
Drink more water.
Spend more time each week walking, and not just in the course of my day. (I must point out, though, that my office is on the 4th floor of the English Department (78 stairs and 2 long hallways from the front door), and I go there 2-3 times per week. Our apartment is on the 3rd floor of our house (40 stairs), and our bedroom is upstairs in our apartment. So I have totally got stairs covered.)
And finally, I wanted to share this photo of the best dad in the world:
He actually didn’t volunteer to play Barbies—he had them thrust upon him by a very insistent Hannah.
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